Results - Poetry Duel 13

Duel 13 was yet another tie and again, a complete tie. Both poems got the same number of votes and both had a 3.50 rating.
On the left was famous "beat" poem Allen Ginsberg and his "The Terms in Which I Think of Reality". Ginsberg rose to fame in the 1950s as the pre-eminent "beat" poet and was an icon through the turbulent '60s and '70s. 
On the left was Justin Bienvenue's "Brutal Mentality" from his self-published Like a Box of Chocolate. Justin's poetry definitely takes a different tack than a lot of the other "unknown" poets featured here but I like it and it has a certain dark optimism.

The Terms in Which I Think of Reality

Reality is a question 
of realizing how real 
the world is already. 
Time is Eternity, 
ultimate and immovable; 
everyone's an angel. 
It's Heaven's mystery 
of changing perfection : 
absolute Eternity 
changes! Cars are always 
going down the street, 
lamps go off and on. 
It's a great flat plain; 
we can see everything 
on top of a table. 
Clams open on the table, 
lambs are eaten by worms 
on the plain. The motion 
of change is beautiful, 
as well as form called 
in and out of being. 
Next : to distinguish process 
in its particularity with 
an eye to the initiation 
of gratifying new changes 
desired in the real world. 
Here we're overwhelmed 
with such unpleasant detail 
we dream again of Heaven. 
For the world is a mountain 
of shit : if it's going to 
be moved at all, it's got 
to be taken by handfuls. 
Man lives like the unhappy 
whore on River Street who 
in her Eternity gets only 
a couple of bucks and a lot 
of snide remarks in return 
for seeking physical love 
the best way she knows how, 
never really heard of a glad 
job or joyous marriage or 
a difference in the heart : 
or thinks it isn't for her, 
which is her worst misery.

+++++++++++++++
Brutal Mentality

To be considerate of others
Is for the way of the wise

There’s more fighters than lovers
Leaving us with blackened eyes

They give without taking
Ask without permission

Their actions they are faking
Yet there’s no lining of suspicion

If only the brain burned
Upon thinking too much

Maybe then they’d be concerned
Of others feelings and such

But they don’t and it’s a joke
Only thinking of themselves

The mind is but a broken yolk
Your like dust on a shelf

Collected and forgotten
Looked upon from time to time

It’s as if your aura is rotten
It’s as if you’ve committed a crime

But they are in the wrong
Needing a check back into reality

​Perhaps their intentions all along
Pushing us with brutal mentality

There’s a party going on
And everyone’s having a good time
And if you haven’t done so already
Lick the walls they taste like strawberries

But the room is really concrete white
There’s actually rats crawling out of holes
Only one person is in the room
Licking the walls will lead to lead poisoning