Allen Ginsberg on Dharma Poetics continues from here
AG: A second aspect of appreciation, beside mortality, which Shakespeare’s sonnet leads into is appreciation of the sacred world, which is part of that path and recognition of joy. Because of the precision of the poet in recognizing the world, because the precision of his awareness of death and transitoriness, there is, therefore, a sharp clear sight of the things of this world being symbols of themselves, speaking for themselves, so an appreciation of the details of the phenomenal world. And for that go back to (Robert) Herrick again, the preface to his book in which he states his intentions. To appreciate everything. It’s also quite a well-known little work – “The Argument of His Book,” as it is said. The argument or the the subject matter.
“I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,/ Of April, May, of June, and July flowers./ I sing of Maypoles, hock carts, wassails, wakes,/ Of bridegrooms, brides and of their bridal cakes./ I write of youth, of love, and have access/ By these to sing of cleanly wantonness./ I sing of dews, of rains, and, piece by piece,/Of balm, of oil, of spice, and ambergris./I sing of times trans-shifting, and I write/ How roses first came red and lilies white./ I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing/ The court of Mab and of the fairy king./I write of hell; I sing (and ever shall)/Of heaven, and hope to have it after all.”
And then I’ve already quoted Kerouac’s paragraph that we have as the motto or the quote from him in the center of our flying newspaper for the (upcoming 1982) Kerouac Festival in which he said, “We’re all going to die and because of that, my mother dead, my father dead, I have nothing left but my own hands their attention and care. My heart broke open in the general despair. I made a supplication in this dream.” [Editorial note – The actual quote, from Kerouac’s Visions of Cody reads: “I’m writing this book because we’re all going to die – In the loneliness of my life, my father dead, my brother dead, my mother faraway , my sister and wife far away, nothing here but my own tragic hands that once were guarded by a world, a sweet attention, that now are left to guide and disappear their own way into the common dark of all our death, sleeping in me raw bed, alone and stupid: with just one pride and consolation: my heart broke in the general despair and opened up inwards to the Lord, I made a supplication in this dream”] -which is really pretty and a very heartfelt, very clear statement in maya–samsara of a kind of bodhisattvic supplication or reaching outward.
to be continued