by Diane di Prima

keep it!
was François Villon a Beat ?
the Minnesingers ?
what’s a troubadour ?

what about them guys
we call the
“Wandering Scholars” who
left the monastery
for the road ?

it’s not a “Generation”
dig —
           it’s a state of mind

a way of living
gone on
             for centuries
a way of writing too

“Beat” poetry’s older
than the grove of academe
older than
                       Apollo
or Pythagoras

it’s one of the ways that
Dionysios plays
tongues of ecstasy

“Romantic” is another
how many more
don’t know

but I know for sure
it’s not a “Generation”
not once
one time / one country

throw in your lot
w/ the gals & guys on the streets
write like you talk
talk like you sing
sing like you dance
                     or love

it’s a risk
           an adventure
& it plays the edge

live close to the edge
& love it
           free to fail
nothing to lose
tongue of ecstasy
no where to go

nowhere to fall but
into the arms
of the Father /Mother
the yabyum
                     Dionysios!

by Diane di Prima

EARTH: The Snake Charmer
Persimmons remain where the boughs are bare.
And the ornamental plum blooms early
before the rains. Blooms & is stripped bare.
That is the nature of Earth, she takes us in
or thrusts us into the wind
before we’re ready

WATER: The Moat around the Castle
Two golden fishes bring abundance.
Like a clear mirror, the ocean never tires.
It keeps eternal whisperings around
the edges of our minds. Or comes at us
like a train emerging again from the mantelpiece.
Where time stands still, Water
will scoop us up.

AIR: Temple of Heaven
You can’t fence in the sky, or the Brady Bunch:
even inside is outside to them. A cave
is the open prairie & the wind
will lift the cloaks of angels before their wings
can catch an updraft.

FIRE: Prelude to Troy
What is demonic is sacred.
What we most fear blesses us.
Gold quickens in the crucible, it runs with life.
Metal annealed is twice as strong. Let Fire
burn dross from body & mind, and from inside out.
Thus the world is renewed.

by Diane di Prima

I thought I was teaching
Thought I knew some thing
Till she came to my door, one baby
in a stroller, one toddler     held onto
her hand
               Where she wanted to know
shd she go?  Chernobyl had just
                                            happened
the wind had changed     the FALLOUT
was moving across the Pacific
& this young mother
                                her tiny
wad of cash     her broke – down
car                   prepared to drive
to take her kids
                                  to safety
ready to
OUTRUN THE WIND

by Diane di Prima

they’re us
     & we’re starving for
     water
                for land

for air
     a place to sleep

or they’re our grandkids . . .