A Screaming Poem

I scream sometimes when I'm on the shore, by the sea,
     thinking of a woman that I loved and lost,
I scream sometimes in crowded places, in parking lots,
     in supermarkets, at bars and restaurants,
I scream sometimes because I feel like screaming and I cannot
     bear the pain of being alone,
I scream because I'm angry and I go on screaming,
     thinking that it will solve something,
     that someone will come and talk to me—
     Talk to me!  Talk to me, darling!
I scream sometimes because I don't know any better,
     because I don't want to be huddled in the corner
          tearful and cold,
I scream in elevators and I scream in the shower and
I scream at my mother and father for bringing me
      into this world,
I scream with a shrill filled with laughter and tears,
I scream on the mountain cliffs and I scream at the people
     passing by silent and indifferent,
O how I scream!  And how lonely I am!
I'm the loneliest man in the world!
I scream LOVE out of my innards,
I pierce the silence of night and day,
I stab the routine with playful passion,
I scream violets, roses, daffodils, begonias,
I stick out my fiery tongue and ignite
      your little heart, darling,
I scream in the womb and kick at my mother's abdomen,
I scream LIFE and I scream BIRTH
     and I scream PASSION,
I scream GOD, I scream BEAUTY,
     and I scream for you, darling,
I scream all the way through the universe,
     through the infinite and mysterious darkness,
I scream and I scream and I scream
     until I die of screaming and then I scream
     again endlessly, pointlessly and beautifully,
     like the chirping of the birds or the shining
     of the sun or the falling of the rain,
I scream at the clouds, I scream at depression,
     and I scream at the old men and psychiatrists
          who prefer a quiet life,
I scream and I howl, like Ginsberg,
     in all my sanity and insanity,
     my neuroses and my psychoses,
     my lack of money and transportation,
I scream in the insane asylum,
     and all the deaf people hear me
     because inside they are screaming too—
All screaming for FREEDOM in unison,
I bark like a dog and roar like a lion,
I scream along with Nietzsche, Marx and Lenin,
I scream the prophecies of the Ages,
I scream alcohol and broken homes,
I scream alienation and despair,
I scream YES to it all, above poverty and degradation—
     a scarlet flame sailing across the world
          of misery and greed—
Scream, my friends!  Scream your lungs out!
Scream till you fall and then get up and scream again!
And so I scream for centuries and millennia—
A brokenhearted poet who once loved a woman—

I scream and I scream and I scream...
 

                                                            June 1, 1988
                                                        --Alexander Shaumyan