come take a fantastical journey, through the green door
part fact & part fiction — part sanctified contradiction
photo: Debbie Meagain
There was a back door
on the back ally
green and ragged
worn as the souls inside
locked
but they left the key
those invited
knew where it was
those that didn’t
weren’t invited
take your trade
to the front
please
this door opened on the inner sanctum
of City Lights — San Francisco
a place of hard truth
a place of tough love
a place of sweet miracles
a place of fascinating minds
the ever-pulsing artery
feeding the beating heart
of the beat generation
come with me
and you will see
a most surreal
reality
but know
enter that door
and you’re changed
forevermore…
Oh
I was there
you and Jack
suckling life’s sweet underbelly
in the quaking
nocturnal
neon zoo
me
in my plastic-handled-Roy-Rogers-two-gun glory
running fast as I could
to catch the bad guys
racing
to outdistance the abandonment
the alienation
that already knew me
by my first name
altogether too damned familiar
Oh
yes
I was there
separated only by time
the chronological happenstance
of conception
you
Jack
and Neal
groin deep
in human wallow
swilling full
the brain-drug
flesh festival
spewing forth
to fill in latter years
my fertile ears
with the siren song
of sacred dissatisfaction
your fingers burned
from dancing with the fire-whores
of truth
angst
and indignation
me
swollen
with the sting of banishment
taunted
the outcast bastard
unaccepted by my peers
frightened child
fleeing to a world within
yet vibrating
with virgin vision
naive imagination
foolhardy faith
that somewhere
someday
somehow
something
must be better
Oh
hell yes
I was there
screaming over that hallowed hill
of pubescent predilection
fast
and hard
as holy hell
cresting
and crashing in
just as night fell
on bohemia
the streets
now new ablaze
in a black-light
strobe-light
tie-dyed light-show
I was on the road
I was on the bus
I was on my way
howling mad
and mind-expanded
I came
in a rolling demon’s fire
lighting the night
dancing
with every devil
I could find
ranting
and raving
and blazing
a combusting
carnal fireball
roaring
hormoned-hungry
for all of life’s deliciousness
ferocious appetite
lusting
and longing to consume
every forbidden morsel
and crumb
to gorge the smorgasborgadelic mindfeast
succulently set
by Neal
Jack
you
Tim
Ken
and guitar Bobby
but you were
so cool
so coooooll
man
I was there
…almost…
thundering in your shadows
warmed by the afterglow
of your light
though just beyond
though just
too late
each light
burned so brightly
then each burned out
all flames are gone
I will remember – Allen
all you crazy
blessed bastards
I will remember
you marvelous
magic
maniacs
madder men than you
the world will not soon see
but now
night has fallen
on bohemia
you’ve departed
now
there’s only
me
and your specters
in my conjured memories
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: Sunday Muse
Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers
I think you mean “you’re” changed forever.
In my 20’s I devoured Kerouac’s books, Ginsberg, Ferlinghetti (owner of City Lights), and Corso’s poetry. I don’t love it all like I used to, except for Corso, but it’s an indelible part of my youth.
Fucking spell check! Just passing the buck :). I should have proofread better 😉 The one beat poet I still read, and he is one of my favorites — Gary Snyder. I heard about, then read “Howl” in ‘65, my freshman year in college. I loved Dylan, and in an interview he was talking about Ginsberg, that got me reading the “beats”. Prior to that, my high school english teacher got me into Kerouac. I hated literature in high school until Brother Theodoric clued me into “On The Road”. Pretty hip for a Franciscan Brother… After “Howl”, I started assimilating ‘beat’i affectation in the lyrics I wrote for my rock band. It was that Junior year of HS that I finally renounced my Catholicism. Best decision I ever made — both my fall from religion, and my discovery of Dylan and the ‘beats’. Also discovered Cohen’s “Flowers for Hitler” and Burroughs’ “Naked Lunch” my Junior year in HS — and I learned about “reefer” from some older musicians. After’63 this former DooWop singer saw the world through a very different lens. Still loved the Beatles, but I also discovered Miles’ “Kind of Blue”, and wrapped jazz into my bundled life.
A lot to think on here Rob. The open door and all the possibilities good, bad and ugly. What a world you have brought to life and opened up for us to see. Wishing you a wonderful weekend my friend!
Same to you Carrie.
Love Kind of Blue. Was too young for the Beats. Like some of their stuff. Ferlinghetti rocked …er, beated.
You rocked it here.
Thank you!
The door opened and thecwords flooded out.
Happy Sunday Rob aka Larry????
Much love…
Thank you Gillena! 🙂 Yeah, I got on a roll, chasing down that wonderful mysterious Green door visual prompt. BTW — Lawrence Tieke is the true name I was born with, given to me by my birth mother, Evelyn Tieke, and signed onto my “official” original birth certificate at the time of my birth. Lawrence Tieke would have remained my name for life, had I not been adopted. After nearly 75 years I just learned that from my oldest child, my daughter, just this past summer of 2021. A second substitute birth certificate was issued when I was finally adopted, with a substitute second name of Robert (rob) Kistner. So my true birgh name is Lawrence Tieke, it is on a ‘sealed’ official record that way in Hamilton County,Ohio, birth records. Isn’t that wild. I have officially been two different people — and never knew it for nearly 75 years! My mind was blown!
Wow! That is all fantastic and wonderful. And I liked your personal history comment about Kerouac and the Franciscan Brother at your HS.
Thank you JR! Good ole Brother Theodoric! He also taught senior Advanced Logic and Theology. Their were only 23 of us advanced students out of the graduating 1965 senior class of nearly 400 at Roger Bacon HS. We 23 were our own home room, and took all glasses together, separate from the gen-pop. We were getting college credits for our senior work. It was all ‘haughty taughty’ bullshit. Br. Theodoric was a very real dude, and damned smart and nice. He taught theology from more of a historical perspective, emphasizing what could be proved, and what could not. He did not push the dogma. He told us in the advanced class, that he chose to believe on purely on faith — and we wold have to make our own personal choice sometime in the future. I not long thereafter could not, and did choose to believe the Catholic dogma. Fascinating guy Theodoric
Those of us who were there and are still here to tell the tale are the lucky ones. A time like no other, a place like no other, that happens so seldom in this world. I was truly happy there, for the first and last time in my life. You bring it all back with this poem, and it crashes and roars with a life, a joy in just being, in discovery and in creation, in knowing you were not the only one, that deserves a retelling in these dying, lightless times. Well done.
It is like a roaring a tsunami that breaks just on the edge of my fading life — I love the era. I will never forget it Joy!
Wow, you sure caught the mood! First the hints of Green Door (from The Pyjama Game: do you remember that?) and then all that lovely Ginsbergian, Kerouacian pour of words. I could Howl!
And darling Ferlinghetti died only this year!
Unlike `Shay I still love them all. Though she might be right that Corso’s relevance lasts longest.
(Heard Snyder once when he visited Australia for a poetry festival, in the eighties. Disappointingly lack-lustre. But good on the page. And nice bloke.)
My copy of Howl dates from that era, one of my greatest treasures.
Ahhh! Thank you so much for this trip!
Thank you Rosemary… the green door shone in vert reflection.Yeh Lawrence died this year on my birthday, and l found out this year my real name is Lawrence — synchronicity in that. Corso was Allen’s special weakness. Loved Gary’s mind, which you only found in his words — and he loved nature, my special addiction. My copy of howl in long gone, in the beautiful hands of Susan Perry, an incredible torch singer that worked for me in my Bright Light Big City JaZBand. Love the vibe of that era!
I like hearing that backstory, re your name.
You found some fine writers to follow.
Always resonated with their freedom, truth, and lack of pretense.
A lot to learn and a wild ride…
Thanks Kerfe — like no other…!
An amazing poem, an even more amazing life story, Rob. I think many surprises have been discovered by genealogists. but yours is most unusual. Thanks for sharing.
You are welcome Bev. Very strange to have had two “legal” names.
The poetry, your backstory …. all of it quite fascinating, Rob.
Been a long strange, sometimes difficult, but mostly wonderful trip Helen… 🙂
Stunning portrayal of the Life and Times! Your writing in this is
mesmerizing, and A bonus of Blues!
So very pleased and humbled that you liked this Sara!