Read Allen Ginsberg's poem, "Howl."
Write a rant, (your own version of "Howl"). Be as rhetorical as you like, get up on your soapbox and scream. Use repetition and striking imagery.
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After Howl
Our days of terror are over now
you and I,
our apocalypse has ended,
the signs of war have faded
from our faces
now shining with holy oil
mingling with tears of gladness,
tumbling from tender sore eyes
Our days of torture ended
And we went rejoicing into that water,
you and I,
our hair hung in our faces,
washed with hyssop and made clean
we were kissed by simplicity
again and again
we tasted grace on our lips
These were the days of our mystical resurrection
when we knelt in holy places
smelling of beeswax, earth and incense
the chinking of the censer like bells breaking
the bonds of our psychic death
our minds restored from madness
we walked softly in those days
gathering sweetness,
thumbing woolen prayer ropes
tied in intricate knots by black-robed women
bathed in beauty and light
again and again
we heard holy words
chanted by musky, bearded angels,
sacred words and ancient melodies flooding
our hearts
the way made smooth
by suffering
again and again
the traces of war and apocalypse
once etched deeply into
our souls, are gone now
our minds ravished
by the heavenly mystery
only images
of our mystical Resurrection
remain