Gregory Corso
Gregory Corso
Gregory Nunzio Corsowas an American poet, youngest of the inner circle of Beat Generation writers...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth26 March 1930
CountryUnited States of America
american-poet knocked mountain moves named quite swear took
They, that unnamed "they," they've knocked me down but I got up. I always get up-and I swear when I went down quite often I took the fall; nothing moves a mountain but itself. They, I've long ago named them me.
dream book beer
It is a great feeling to know that from a window I can go to books to cans of beer to past loves. And from these gather enough dream to sneak out a back door.
power waiting streets
Standing on a street corner waiting for no one is power.
two choices two-things
If you have a choice of two things and can't decide, take both.
dream men life-is
I learned life were no dream I learned truth deceived Man is not God Life is a century Death an instant
war father home
My father took me back home, back to Greenwich Village, and he thought by taking me out of the orphanage he'd be out of the World War too. But no way - they got him anyway. He went in the Navy and then I lived on the streets.
cat light perspective
But when the conquered spirit breaks free And indicates a new light Who'll take care of the cats?
wise white-hair age
I feel I want to be wise with white hair in a tall library in a deep chair by a fireplace.
rivers sea flow
Spirit is Life. It flows thru the death of me endlessly like a river unafraid of becoming the sea.
running jobs wife
a fat Reichian wife screeching over potatoes Get a job! And five nose running brats in love with Batman
grades sixth-grade highest
You see, I went to the sixth grade and that was the highest I ever went.
window stealing restaurants
Anyway, I lived on the streets and did pretty good until I got caught stealing, what was it? I kicked in a restaurant window, went in and took all the food that I wanted, and while coming out I was grabbed.
bombs dictator poet
Ah, if I were dictator I'd have poets throwing bombs!
fighting italian lucky
The lucky thing was that I was Italian; when the other Italians saw me fight back, they came to my defence.