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who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism
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Allen Ginsberg |
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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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Allen Ginsberg |
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Happiness exists I feel it. I cried for my soul, I cried for the world's soul. The world has a beautiful soul.
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Allen Ginsberg |
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What came is gone forever every time
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Allen Ginsberg |
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What is obscenity? And to whom?
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Sometime I'll lay down my wrath, As I lay my body down Between the ache of breath and breath, Golden slumber in the bone.
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Allen Ginsberg |
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I had a moment of clarity, saw the feeling in the heart of things, walked out to the garden crying.
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Allen Ginsberg |
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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?
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Absolutes are Coercion. Change is absolute.
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change
coercion
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Allen Ginsberg |
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who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for an Eternity outside of Time, and alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade, who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought they were growing old and cried, who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse and the tanked-up clatte..
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Allen Ginsberg |
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War is good business Invest your son
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Allen Ginsberg |
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No more to say, and nothing to weep for
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Empire State's orange shoulders lifted above the Hell
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Allen Ginsberg |
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I broadcast thru Time
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Naked in solitary prison cell he looks down at a hard-on.
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Allen Ginsberg |
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The world is holy! The soul is holy! The skin is holy! The nose is holy! The tongue and cock and hand and asshole holy! Everything is holy! everybody's holy! everywhere is holy! everyday is in eternity! Everyman's an angel!
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poetry
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Allen Ginsberg |
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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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Allen Ginsberg |
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Moloch who entered my soul early. Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body. Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy. Moloch whom I abandon. Wake up in Moloch.. Light streaming out of the sky. Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! Invisible suburbs! Skeleton treasuries! Blind capitals! Demonic industries! Spectral nations! Invincible madhouses! Granite cocks! Monstrous bombs! They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven....
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urban-life
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Allen Ginsberg |
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who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded and loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,
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travel
death
sadness
beauty-alone
impatience
insight
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Allen Ginsberg |
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You were right, I suppose, in keeping your distance. I was too intent on self-fulfillment, and rather crude about it, with all my harlequinade and conscious manipulation of your pity.
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love
unrequited-love
beat-generation
jack-kerouac
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Allen Ginsberg |
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America this is quite serious
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america
beat
ginsberg
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allen ginsberg |
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I'm with you in Rockland where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter
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writing
beatnik
howl
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Allen Ginsberg |
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The madman bum and angel beat in time with the absolute heart of the poem butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years
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Allen Ginsberg |
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I would rather go mad, gone down the dark road to Mexico, heroin dripping in my veins, eyes and ears full of marijuana, eating the god Peyote on the floor of a mudhut on the border or laying in a hotel room over the body of some suffering man or woman; rather jar my body down the road, crying by a diner in the Western sun; rather crawl on my naked belly over the tincans of Cincinnati; rather drag a rotten railroad tie to a Golgotha in..
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madness
poetry
life
drugs
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Allen Ginsberg |
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if all else fails you can read
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Allen Ginsberg |
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I have just discovered that I have no feelings, just thoughts, borrowed thoughts taken from someone I admire because he seems to have feelings.
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thoughts
feelings
jack-kerouac
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Allen Ginsberg |
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who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa
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Allen Ginsberg |
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What Patriot wrote that shit?
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Allen Ginsberg |
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that blue flame burnning? Industry!
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the-flats
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Shit, Violence, bullets in the brain Unavailing. We're in too deep to pull out. Waiting for an orgasm, Mr. Baldwin? Yes, waiting for an orgasm that's all.
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Holy time in eternity holy eternity in time holy the clocks in space holy the fourth dimension holy the fifth International holy the Angel in Moloch! Holy the sea holy the desert holy the railroad holy the locomotive holy the visions holy the hallucinations holy the miracles holy the eyeball holy the abyss! Holy forgiveness! mercy! charity! faith! Holy! Ours! bodies! suffering! magnanimity! Holy the supernatural extra brilliant intelligent ..
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Mind is shapely, Art is shapely.
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Earth pollution identical with Mind pollution, consciousness Pollution identical with filthy sky
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Allen Ginsberg |
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who sought heaven under a mountain of stone, sat thinking till he realized the land of blessedness exists in the imagination -
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Allen Ginsberg |
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The grime was no man's grime but death and human locomotives, all that dress of dust, that veil of darkened railroad skin, that smog of cheek, that eyelid of black mis'ry, that sooty hand or phallus or protuberance of artificial worse-than-dirt--industrial--modern--all that civilization spotting your crazy golden crown-- and those blear thoughts of death and dusty loveless eyes and ends and withered roots below, in the home-pile of sand and..
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Allen Ginsberg |
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No rest without love, no sleep without dreams of love-- be mad or chill obsessed with angels or machines, the final wish is love --cannot be bitter, cannot deny, cannot withhold if denied: the weight is too heavy
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Scream in despair over Meat and Metal Microphone
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Allen Ginsberg |
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I eat a catfish sandwich
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ginsberg
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Allen Ginsberg |
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I do not wish to escape to myself, I wish to escape from myself. I wish to obliterate my consciousness and my knowledge of independent existence, my guilts, my secretiveness.
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escape
introspection
beat-generation
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Allen Ginsberg |
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An Eastern Ballad" I speak of love that comes to mind: The moon is faithful, although blind; She moves in thought she cannot speak. Perfect care has made her bleak. I never dreamed the sea so deep, The earth so dark; so long my sleep,
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Slaves of Plastic! Leather-shoe chino-pants prisoners! Haircut junkies! Dacron-shiffers!
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Clock hands move noonward
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Allen Ginsberg |
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Inside skull vast as outside skull
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cosmopolitan-greetings
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Allen Ginsberg |
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who were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality. . .
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poetry
truth
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Allen Ginsberg |