There are some posts on the Allen Ginsberg Project so fitting they deserve annual
re-publication, this is one of them.
Happy Valentines Day everyone!
Celebrating love today (‘the weight of the world’) on the Allen Ginsberg Project
SONG
The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction
the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.
the weight we carry
is love.
Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human–
looks out of the heart
burning with purity–
for the burden of life
is love,
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human–
looks out of the heart
burning with purity–
for the burden of life
is love,
but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.
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:
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
–must give
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.
The warm bodies
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye–
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye–
yes, yes,
that’s what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.
– – and from William S Burroughs:
that’s what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.
– – and from William S Burroughs:
My sister died recently. Her main social connections were at her workplace, FoodMaxx, in Fairfield, California. With my help providing photos and a biography, the manager and his wife held a "Leah Day" at the store. Leah was almost 65 years old. She worked at the store for years, but they didn't really know anything about her, but they liked her a lot. They were astonished when I told them she was a Navy veteran, a genius with an IQ of 175, and they didn't even know she had a brother and sister or anything! I told the manager of FoodMaxx that Leah, as a teenager, was a hippie, and she had all the Beat Generation books, from City Lights Bookstore. We both memorized a lot of poetry, including Allen Ginsberg. I told the manager he's GOT to have "A Supermarket in California" as part of the FoodMaxx "Leah Day". They sent me photos! They did a bulletin board about Leah, in Green Bay Packers colours, and they had displays of food that are in the poem. A displays of avocados and tomatos; bananas — what price? .69; brilliant stacks of cans; and Who killed the porkchops? WE DID — photo of the butchers. It was great! Leah and I are from Appleton, Wisconsin. We remember the Joe McCarthy exorcism, though we were not in attendance. We remember Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention pissing on McCarthy's grave and getting arrested. We went to Zappa's concert at the Cinderella Ballroom, which was a block away from our house. We heard on the radio that the concert had to be moved, because the professor in charge of the original venue, the Lawrence College Chapel, closed it because he was beside himself with grief over the Kent State massacre (he'd taught there prior to Lawrence). I've been sending the Ginsberg "Supermarket in California" links to friends and relatives, including your links about the McCarthy exorcism. I've never seen it before! Your video is great!