I don't think there is any truth. There are only points of view. by Allen Ginsberg

I don't think there is any truth. There are only points of view.

Allen Ginsberg

Image Embed Code

Categorized in : Thinking Views Point Of View

An unnoticed corner of the world suddenly becomes noticed, and when you notice something clearly and see it vividly, it becomes sacred. (On Robert Frank's photography)

sacred photography world

You can't photograph everything. by Allen Ginsberg

You can't photograph everything.

photograph

What is obscenity? And to whom? by Allen Ginsberg

What is obscenity? And to whom?

obscenity

Who’ll come lie down in the dark with me Belly to belly and knee to knee Who’ll look into my hooded eye Who’ll lie down under my darkened thigh?

eye dark lying

…we’re all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we’re all blessed by our own seed & golden hairy naked accomplishment (Sunflower Sutra)

accomplishment blessed beautiful

Tell your secrets. [In reply to the question "How does one become... by Allen Ginsberg

Tell your secrets. [In reply to the question "How does one become a prophet?"]

prophet secret doe

This is the same notion - Catholic exorcism, psychotherapy, shamanistic practices - getting to the moment when whatever it was gained access. And also to the name of the spirit. Just to know that it's the Ugly Spirit. That's a great step. Because the spirit doesn't want its name to be known.

catholic practice names

Presumably, if you see spirit at the moment it gained access, the... by Allen Ginsberg

Presumably, if you see spirit at the moment it gained access, then it'll be dropped.

access moments spirit

I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber,poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys. I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?

angel lonely boys

The first person who really showed me the ugly spirit was Brion Gysin. "The ugly spirit shot Joan because . . ." and I never found out why. This Brion wrote out on a piece of paper in a sort of trance state.

ugly pieces paper

who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic... by Allen Ginsberg

who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism

cigarette holes arms

To get on screen with the Talking Asshole, quite a feat. And it's certainly going to be a cult film that people will be seeing.

film talking people

The desire to have power dissolves. The desire to dominate people for love dissolves. On the other hand, it's a relief to realize you can let go.

letting-go hands people

I like the image of The Old Man and the Sea, of striving and succeeding but finding that the success was ghost success. In other words, in the long run, after a certain age, the motives for success, pride or oppressing people or getting power.

pride running men

The Rolling Stones were an inkling towards an appreciation of the unity of music, dance and words. Any of the black R&B people who had a stage show that involved dancing, music and words did the same thing, except that I thought Jagger's words were good, his music was good and his dancing was good. I spoke to him about Blake and tried to get him to sing [William] Blake's The Grey Monk, to use his words as lyrics. He didn't do it. In the end, I did it myself.

dancing appreciation people

I am learning by the week, but my poesy is still not my own. New rhyme, new me me me in words. I am not all this carven rhetoric.

rhyme new-me week

America, how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood? by Allen Ginsberg

America, how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?

stupid silly writing

I saw the best minds of my generation who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade.

alarms mind watches

Breathe when you breathe. Walk where you walk. Talk when you talk. Cry when you cry. Die when you die. Let go when you let go.

breathe cry letting-go

Taxi September along Jessore Road Oxcart skeletons drag charcoal load past watery fields thru rain flood ruts Dung cakes on treetrunks, plastic-roof huts Wet processions Families walk Stunted boys big heads don't talk Look bony skulls & silent round eyes Starving black angels in human disguise.

angel eye rain