Years of Reminiscence by Luke Ritta

My lucid memories shoot through my mind like a freight train at full speed.

Drinking red wine in Sicily, talking about writers in a London pub
Scratching my arm, watching the sun sink in New Mexico,
Hanging around backpackers in a hostel, sleeping, walking,
Watching foreign films, reading, eating creamy risotto,
Standing at a bus stop, looking at my watch,
Kissing exotic women, looking at people,
Road trips, boat trips, cold beer, brandy,
Talking about politics, watching T.V.
Stroking a skinny street cat in India,
Looking out of a plane window,
Washing my hair, eating duck,
Amazing nights, drinking tea,
The smell of garlic frying and
Waiting for life to
Begin.

My lucid memories shoot through my mind like a freight train at full speed.

From the Empire State Building to the Golden Gate Bridge
(An odyssey into the soul of modern America) by Luke Ritta

O America!
From Walt Whitman to Allen Ginsberg.
O America!
From The Empire State Building to The Golden Gate Bridge

A Joshua tree stands erect at dusk. A pumpkin pie is left on a widow ledge to cool off.
A husband returns home after a day at work to be welcomed by his loving family.
Moby Dick and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is read in moonlight.
The American dream.

A man dies in a park of a drug overdoes. An old women from Atlanta Georgia
has her right leg cut off as she can’t afford the operation to save it.
a lonely sad hobo sits under a cold overpass thinking about his life
Last Exit to Brooklyn and the Grapes of Wrath is read at dawn.
The American nightmare.

*

I land on the tarmac of the country who
owns the world. Wow! Is all I can
say. Wow! This is the nation
that has shaped modern
society.

New York! The rain drops fall onto my
Shoulders like bombs
Falling on
Dresden.

The city that never sleeps! I am asleep after six cans of
Beer. Why! Why! I hear you ask. The
Answer to this and to a lot more
Questions is
Six cans.

Bones, skin, pain! Legs, feet, toes, pain! I walk and walk
around the capital of this once great super power. O the pain!
I look at Lincoln; he looks at me, we both
Stroke are beards and I wish I had a
pair of new shoes.

The dog rolls on and on, and on. The rolling dog
Of my dreams.

The greyhound is my home, lover, friend, partner, cinema screen and my ride.
52 seats, 52 humans, 104 beating hearts from 50 amazing states.

A morning red sun shines over still rivers like a painting from Monet.
Stunning trees, old and new stand in black silhouette
against the sun like a photo from Ansel Adams.

New Hampshire! New England! Maine! And a bowl of steaming clam chowder.
Pain in the neck after sleeping for one hour and twenty two seconds.
Legs are stiff like roman soldiers and I now wish
I could get off the rolling dog and have a
cup of Joe.

O America!
From Walt Whitman to Allen Ginsberg.
O America!
From The Empire State Building to The Golden Gate Bridge

10 hours have passed by in a haze of loneliness. I am
as lonely as a man on death row.
I am in the deep south.

I wait for a ride, a horse, a car, a plane…..No!
A bus. As I wait I see a golden, skinny stray cat walk past
me and my heart hurts like a silver bullet has just pierced it..
I say_______? There is no word that describes what
I am feeling. William Faulkner Stands
Next to me and sighs.

Society! please do me a favour and use a condom!
People! People! People everywhere. From the
Sperm of a Greek philosopher to the
youth of the 21st century.
God help us!

I look around at the youth. It has finally happened. We
have come full circle. I cant believe it! We have
Gone back to the time of the cavemen.

Groups of boys and girls stand around and talk, act
and stand like the first ever man did. They would
Rather shoot someone at dusk, instead of reading
a book underneath a peach tree at dawn.
Please use a condom.

O America!
From Walt Whitman to Allen Ginsberg.
O America!
From The Empire State Building to The Golden Gate Bridge

Succulent chicken or a rubbery old bird?

Freshly stone baked bread or salty sponge?

Strong, mature full flavoured cheese or processed chemical slices?

24 months old cured meat or animals innards mixed with salt and water?

Europe or America? Europe or America?

Taos in the morning, eating a spicy bowl of black bean soup. Taos in
the afternoon talking about philosophy to the locals. Taos
At night, eating a Yak burger under a cover of stars
with Dennis Hopper and Jack Nicholson
Over stunning Taos in the desolate sky,
Imprinted on the Clouds is the Face of
D.H. Lawrence.

Oklahoma, Wyoming, Idaho. The rolling dog at night. The black rivers twinkle
From the lights of the factories. I get bored looking at a field of barley so I sit back
and start to read my book ‘Travels with charley’ I then see Benjamin Franklin
Playing baseball with George Washington, Franklin whacks the ball,
The ball flies through the night like so many convicts on the run,
and then it is caught in the hands of Barack Obama.
I then wake up from this dream, I put on my MP3
and for the rest of the night I listen to
Jim Morrison and Johnny Cash.
Amen.

Bubbly, fizzy and as dark as the sand at Omaha beach in 1944.
Root beer! It might smell of the dentist, but I
Love it. Seattle, Denver, Portland, Arizona,
beef jerky at sunrise, eggs and bacon
next to the grand canyon, red wine
next to Bukowskis grave, tears
Over Jack kerouacs
Death bed.

American Television!
O the bombardments of commodities in this land. The T.V. talks
To you, loves you and defiantly lies to your face. You
Get told you are going to die, get divorced, get cancer
Get robbed. So what do you do? You
Buy! Buy! Buy! It talks down to
You like you’re a child, what
to do? Buy! Buy!
Buy!

With out Howard Hughes and Henry Ford what
would modern life be like?

The Midwest.
The roads should be peaceful and relaxing, not in the US. You get bombarded by road signs, eat this, drink that, buy this, get that. So you buy some fast food and once finished you straight away fart. Your then back on the
road get attacked by an army led
Napoleon Bonaparte.

O America!
From Walt Whitman to Allen Ginsberg.
O America!
From The Empire State Building to The Golden Gate Bridge

California and the almighty red woods. One million and one
Trees stand in the light breeze from big Sur in the
moon light of yesteryear.

An eagle flys over head, a red squirrel runs up the huge trunk, a black bear sniffs
the pungent grounds at the red woods feet.
Bye, Bye you ancient trees, hello the
Lights, noise, madness of
Las Vegas.

The North!
Now to Montana and ghostly grey shadows sweep across the vast plains.
A hut then a old shed will pop up like a mushroom, in the
distance the mountaintops shimmer red from the
morning sun. Snow begins to melt like
life slipping away from an
injured soldier.

The East!
Huge factory’s blend into the even bigger cities, dark dense clouds
hang overhead like the next world war. Cold winds shoot
through your hair, people love each other and hate each
other even more. Great lobsters and the birth of
America in 1773.

The South!
Old trees with grey beards stand next to battered homes, music decorates the air like and insect sticks. Chicken fillets fried, corn fields paint the land, peaches and oranges
feed the people with money. An old white church on Sunday,
a blues bar on Friday, grits, steak, slaw, warm
biscuits on a Saturday.

The West!
Stuck up people, chilled out residents, red wine rolls down the hills, life is great
Life is hell. The world of movies, the world of drugs, the world of
money. A town dedicated to garlic, a town dedicated to
Sun worshiping, a town dedicated to the
beat generation.

O America!
From Walt Whitman to Allen Ginsberg.
O America!
From The Empire State Building to The Golden Gate Bridge

Bop, bop, tap, tap, bop, tap. Music is life in New Orleans. Jazz and gumbo,
Soul and a crayfish Po boy. Louisiana as the moon comes out to play,
witch doctors, voodoo at midnight, bourbon is drunk by everyone,
The tourist go to tourist spots, the real New Orleans don’t
want them, they don’t want anyone, they have the best
city in the world to themselves.
Where would I be without
the blues!!!!!!!!!

I examine the class of the new world and all I see is a cell
Phone in everyone’s hand. At a café, bar, airport, If a man-
woman is left by them self they straight away gaze into
their phone. They are a perfect target for a thief! I would
rather look at a falling dead autumn leaf.

Austin Texas, Huston Texas, Dallas Texas, steaming bowls of
Chilli in Texas, amazing beef jerky in Texas,
Texas in Texas.

Is Santa Cruz paradise or hell?
Perfect bums and firm breast bounce on the sand, suntan bodies kiss and swim in the
Salty sea. Expensive haircuts, six packs, eating lunch with daddy, going to
a party, drinking cocktails, going to sleep that night
without feeling anything in the heart. The smell of
plastic is stained over your soul.
Or
Fake tans, bad haircuts, dinner that cost more then one months rent
for a poor family. Brain dead air heads who live a pointless
73 years. The lavender colour sun sinks on
Paradise or hell?

O America!
From Walt Whitman to Allen Ginsberg.
O America!
From The Empire State Building to The Golden Gate Bridge

Time passes slowly as Mr Dylan sings. And he couldn’t be more
correct as I relax on the rolling dog.

Endless hours and seconds pass by me like an old war veteran walking
Down 5th avenue. Tennessee, Mississippi, Kentucky, whiskey,
and cold beer.

I look at the passenger I share the bus with and I wonder has any of them
read Ulysses or War and Peace? Dose it matter if they haven’t?
dose it matter that I have? Dose anything matter anymore?
My nihilistic thoughts are coming out of the
wood works. I need to get off this bus
and get a spicy tamale
Down in sunny
New Mexico.

Mix together in a giant pestle and mortar the following ingredients.
The brightest yellows, darkest browns,
heart breaking oranges, the whitest
of white, The redness of wine and the
calmness of green.

Scoop out and spread across the hills, mountains, and endless fields. Now
Stand back, take in a deep breath and admire the
Enchanted kingdom of
New Mexico.

John Ernest Steinbeck dominates the Californian landscape with his
pale blue eyes, protruding ears and elegant panicle moustache. His words tumble
down the lush hillsides, his thoughts glide over the trees. A bunch of his
characters inhabit, homes, bars, farms. Fruit and vegetables ripen with his
soul. From the redwoods to the pines in big Sur, the veins in
the leaves flow with the blood of the great author. The
pavements and side walks of Salinas and Monterey
are decorated with his image. Long live
J.E.S.

Walking up Columbus Avenue with the smell of books decomposing in the air, walking down Castro street with the smell of sweet aftershave
in the air, walking down Lombard street with the smell
of car fumes in the air, walking down pier 39 with
the smell of tourist in the air. Walking in
San Francisco with the smell of
America in the air.

Farewell to the negatives of the US with its ugly towns, the lack of history,
Farewell to the laws, cant walk across the road there, cant drink in
Public cant do this cant do that. Farewell to the people,
The caveman of the many youth,
the ignoramus of the South.
Farewell O farewell.

Farewell the positives of the US with its kind hearted strangers, stunning
Scenery, huge meals, great pizza slices, farewell to the women and
To the great writers and the birth of modern music. Farewell to
the land of opportunities , farewell to the 50 states.
Farewell O farewell.

O America!
From Walt Whitman to Allen Ginsberg.
O America!
From The Empire State Building to The Golden Gate Bridge
*
A homeless man plays guitar on a park bench; a wealthy housewife gets her toe
nails painted red, a Hasidic Jew scratch his beard, a Chinese man smokes
behind his restaurants, a white hick goes to church, a black child plays
baseball in the streets of Detroit, a fat politician lies his way through
Life, a drug addict holds up a liqueur store, a Mexican immigrant
gets out of a truck in downtown L.A., a young women
with red hair holds a party for her cool yuppie
friends in Manhattan, an old man with
grey hair plays the blues at sunset,
a 25-year-old poet still writes,
The stars and stripes dance in
the wind of desolation.
Goad bless
America!