Oh beat
Oh boot
Oh beat, Oh beat
Oh beat, Oh boot
Oh bea-boo-ta
I am fluffy and beat with smoke
in my seat, Bermuda
I am scruffy goatee
with flaming pee-pee
Bermuda..
A Poe eat,
a buttered up loaf of meat
Ah yeah, eedeelee-o
The guy that invented granola -- though
hip and high-strung from fisting in Fallon, NV.
Is not madda at Beat, than he is of the day
he invented granola. Because that was the day
every saddled weasel in the county came along
and turned the simple pure truth of granola
into a magical bullshit breakfast for kids
called 'Happy Flakes' and 'Spiffy Pops'.
Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg sat at
the knee of Burroughs the mentor and said
"Nothing Beats sittin' around listening to this
old fag talk about images and fucking and
drugs". Because they knew inevitably
William would hit the apple, not the wife.
And that everyone would be glorious,
and utterly wasted on a generation that
amounted to absolute squat.
And as the nostalgia wears off, and I get sick
of talking about landmarks, and my mommy, and
the negros, and politics and how the Catholics are so
far up my ass I'm spitting up rosaries. I will listen
long and tilted into the tight dark pink night(y)
to the sound of the hobo breaking wind and I will go,
"That was beat poetry"
As I crack open an old Milwaukee, and wait
to get old, so that I might indeed kick the dog
off the porch, and whistle some demented shit
to the scarecrows, and the plump bunnies
As my friends surround me clad in Nike and
sponsored by Nebutal, and their Ex-wives
REAL POETS, The BEATIEST, I will think
to myself Oh Jack, Oh Jack, why did you go
on the road, sending me on the road, and my
friends on the road -- to find that all roads end
right back Jack, right smack dab back Jack
at the sound of it all beating itself to death
I want nothing more, but in the end to
be lynched by a filthy mob of illiterate
baboons and sodomized with beets
and poetry, until my ass flares like
Uranus, and then, and only then
will I concede that it was all a
filthy lie to keep your minds
in check by the man and his
mennies with the hair parted
on the right side in news caster
blue, selling you tomorrow.
Author notes
Every Single Beat Poet Is Dead, and until Nike makes a shoe you are not beat poets. Until Hilfiger makes the shirt you are not beat poets.
Because Beat is merely Talented Freeverse, and anyone can do it.
There is no club, there is no clique, there is no style, so get over it
Sincerely,
horus8
Written July 16th, 2004
In a list
A contest entry
- Beat your Brains out by shastadaisey123.
300 points, ended August 2, 2004, 16 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 26 of 26
-
loved it and your comments cleared things up i love the way you are so smooth when you spit it all out. nice doggy. how come you have replaced photos of you with a dog its no substitute though i bet you wish you were a dog and could lick yourself all over or perhaps you can becasue i remember you saying one time that you grew up in a circus and are ambidextrous and multi jointed plus you are a child of satan and able to rotate your head 180 degrees in any direction. its great how you never mention bus in any of your poems because you are so posh you have probably never heard of them. they are like cars only bigger and they take you from one place to another...but you have to pay and they have numbers on them they stop at every lamppost and they never go where you want them to go. there lets hope there was something in that last little lot that was remotely interesting.its hard to concentrate with the dog eyes on me
-
this is fucking great.
-
I am so glad you entered this it is one of my favorites and your authors comments require applause...very neat...good luck in the contest...
freda
-
Heh heh. Great poem
-
I love this ! Geez... i've missed reading you. So creative and refreshing, so up-beat and free-flowing... makes me want to hear you perform this.
Impressive write, entertaining as hell :-)
~ Wendy -
RIVETING! Encore.
-
You mean if I clap on the wrong beat
like the white folks do, then I don't really feel the beat
at all and I just beat
a corned beat
sandwich and turn up the beat
so I can dance around naked out in the beat
and not get hard nipples, wouldn't that be just so beat?
(Hits head against computer dramatically, snaps one time, and falls over.) -
beauty.
I love you.
And I concede, it was all a filthy lie. Sigh. -
(sits here in my Nike shoes, Hilfiger shirt and Levis jeans that are ten yrs out of style..and realizes it was all a big fat lie)
I read it
I loved it
I live it
Rock on
an.d
-
what a way to go! the end would certainly be the end, on its end. excellent write and altho i have no spontaneously witty things to say about it because ive had no sleep in two days, this write was incredible and i was grinning and spinning all the way through. now
-
yo...straight up mad genioUs yo. fucking nimrods.
thing is...you forgot the cheese!!! and the trousers! what about the straight up trouser cheese???!!! -
lessfillingtastesbetterthenafrogfart
Fell short at the end considering it is your write... The whole so far up I'm spittin' it up shit has been an ongoing thing 'round here, too...hearitfeelitfuckit!
"turned the...truth into..." bravo, nice. all of it stinks sticks starts and stings... I love your raw vision/translation and the heart you so indignately yet unwilling no unreadily no unknowinonono idon'tknow... so... naturally exude...? fuck, see what happens?!? Right back to the ugh! 
a wonder in written word... an outhouse for the best smelling shit this world has to squeeze out... naptime
-
Well, damnit, you succeeded. Well done. I salute you. Barbie. Xx
-
Yes
-
Are you trying to make me laugh uncontrollably? Barbie. Xx
-
This is not a parody. I've written many parodies, but this is not a parody, and nothing gets to me Barbie. I do this all day, everyday, no handed, AND NUDE!!! Or Nudlier than most anyway.
Edited on Jul 16, 3:50 p.m. because ''. -
COOL PIECE KEEP IT UP
-
Dog beat's contest got to you? Sounds like Eminem in places, perhaps that's what you intended seeing as you are striking the Eminem generation with a large stick of punishingly good poetry. Damnit, if it wasn't for the first four stanzas (I know they are parodies but they still suck), I would have to salute you again. Good day to you. Barbie. Xx
-
Yahooooo yippeee and whip me,beat me and call me Barbara.. get it on kiddo
Let the good times roll.. signing off, Bridget the Midget workin' it out.. 
-
good work thanx for sharing with us now thank you for all your great work on ap i am enjoying reading them!
-
whoa i'm not sure i got all that but it was pretty fuckin strange... hilarity ensued. kudos!
-
lol i liked this !
-
hell of a job.
holy crap...you are a fucking genious! this piece was hilarious and so true! lol your comments were beyond hilarious too! lol...you've inspired me to go try 'talented freeversing' myself. and it was great how you ended your comment with 'sincerely' escellent job! -
Yes shasta, we all can, they can't corner the market, because IT"S A CIRCLE!!!!!!
-
Word up niggas?! lol
-
I am wiping tears from my eyes...from this piece or from your wonderful comments ..i am not sure which...but you just gave me reason to believe again that I can indeedy right some beat poetry....damn...that is good..... talented free verse..thank you ..now all I have to do is find the talent...freda
Adding your comment:
1 - 26 of 26
5 old applause
