POEM OF THE DAY "Unnamed 1" by Jack Kerouac

My fascination with Jack Kerouac comes I think from a fascination with the human spirit, the human character, and a profound interest in the rebels among us -- what makes them tick?  As I continue the eNOTHING project - sharing the words, songs, poems that have meaning to me, in as broad a context as possible, I have noticed a pattern.

I am attracted to the rebellious.  I am attracted to things which challenge the "norm" -- especially if the "norm" is incongruous with fairness or justice, or if "norm" means business as usual or stay between the lines.


Outside the world of poetry, some of the artists/personalities that have drawn me in are:

• John Lennon
• Charles Bukowski
• Allen Ginsberg
• Lou Reed
• Jewel
• Pahlaniuk
• Yoko
• Curt Cobain
• Andre Breton and the Surrealists 
• Local coffee shops (not Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts)

Well, why bore you - the list just goes on and on.  Kerouac is the perfect example - our #Howladay series and #Jackaday series were good, too.  What makes these people tick?  Can I use it to make me tick too?


Here's a poem from Kerouac's City Lights (Fernlinghetti) Pocket Poets book (I recommend it!) "Scattered Poems", hope you like it!:

Unnamed Poem 1

By Jack Kerouac

I
  clearly 
              saw
                      the skeleton underneath
all
     this
            show
                      of personality
what 
         is
             left
                   of a man and all his pride
but bones?
and all his lost snacks o' nights...
   and the bathtubs of liquor
      thru his gullet
                    ...bones ------ He mopes
                          in the grave,
                          facial features
                          changed by worms
                                *
                                  *
                                    *
                                      *
      from him 
                   is heard
                               no more
                                *
                                  *
                                    *
                                      *
Life is sick
Dogs cough
Bees sail
Birds hack
Trees saw
Woods cry
Men die
Ticks try
Books lie
Ants fly
Goodbye


1960

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