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The hero surviving his own murder, his own suicide, his own addiction, surviving his own disappearance from the scene

Allen Ginsberg

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Allen Ginsberg
Age: 70 †
Born: 1926
Born: June 3
Died: 1997
Died: April 5
Autobiographer
Diarist
Musician
Photographer
Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
Teacher
Writer
Paterson
New Jersey
Irwin Allen Ginsberg
Ayālena Gīnasabārga
Alen Ginzberg
Hero
Scene
Disappearance
Surviving
Addiction
Suicide
Murder

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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?
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one must verge on the unknown, write toward the truth hitherto unrecognizable of one’s own sincerity, including the avoidable beauty of doom, shame, and embarrassment, that very area of personal self-recognition,(detailed individual is universal remember) which formal conventions, internalized, keep us from discovering in ourselves and others
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I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked.
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Subject is known by what she sees.
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All these books are published in Heaven.
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Sanity - a trick of agreement
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From it's inception Beat poetry was hailed as something NEW and like all good spontaneous jazz, newness is acceptable and expected - by hip people who listen. But the newness of jazz has in it the echoes of J. S. Bach.
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I don't do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision.
Allen Ginsberg
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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.
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I believe that we are put here in human form to decipher the hieroglyphs of love and suffering. And, there is no degree of love or intensity of feeling that does not bring with it the possibility of a crippling hurt. But, it is a duty to take that risk and love without reserve or defense.
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What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whit- man, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon. In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
Allen Ginsberg
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Poetry is the one place where people can speak their original human mind. It is the outlet for people to say in public what is known in private.
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Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village. downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I've been up all night, talking, talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues shout blind on the phonograph
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When it snows in your nose, you catch cold in your brain.
Allen Ginsberg
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The typewriter is holy the poem is holy the voice is holy the hearers are holy the ecstacy is holy!
Allen Ginsberg
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we're all golden sunflowers inside.
Allen Ginsberg
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Which way will the sunflower turn surrounded by millions of suns?
Allen Ginsberg
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Tell your secrets. [In reply to the question How does one become a prophet?]
Allen Ginsberg
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Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.
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I'm an old man now, and a lonesome man in Kansas / but not afraid / to speak my lonesomeness in a car, / because not only my lonesomeness / it's Ours, all over America, / O tender fellows --/ & spoken lonesomeness is Prophecy / in the moon 100 years ago or in / the middle of Kansas now.
Allen Ginsberg