25th Chorus
Dont worry about death
Once you’re there
Because it is trackless
Having no track to follow
You will rest where you are
In inside of the essence
But the moment I say essence
I draw that word back
And that remark - essence’s
Unspoken, you cant say a word,
essence is the word for the finger
that shows us bright blankness
When we look intoo the God face
We see radiant irradiation
From middleless center
Of Objectlessfire roe-ing
In a fieldstar all its own
Is my own, is your own.
Is not Owned by Self-Owner
but found by Self-Loser -
Old Ancient Teaching
* * *
227th Chorus
Merde and misery,
I’m completely in pain
Waiting without mercy
For the worst to happen.
I'm completely at a loss,
There is no hope
Though I know the arbitrary conception
of suffering is racking
my metaphysical
handicapped ribs,
and I dont even exist less sing,
and I been paid
for work I done
when I was young
and work was fun
and I dont know name from mercy,
aint got no blues
no shoes no eyes
no shoetongues, lungs,
no happines, no art,
nothing to do, nothin to part,
no hairs to split
sidewalks to spit,
words to make flit
in the fun-of make-it,
horror & makeshift poetry
covering the fact I'm afraid
to work at a steady job
jungles of hair on my wrists
magnified 1000 times
in Hells of Eternity
Jack Kerouac, Mexico City Blues, publisher: Grove Press
UNHOLY MISSIONS
I want to be buried in an anonymous crater inside the moon.
I want to build miniature golf courses on all the stars.
I want to prove that Atlantis was a summer resort for cave men.
I want to prove that Los Angeles is a practical joke played on us by superior beings on a humorous planet.
I want to expose Heaven as an exclusive sanitarium filled with rich psychopaths who think they can fly.
I want to show that the Bible was serialized in a Roman children's magazine.
I want to prove that the sun was born when God fell asleep with a lit cigarette, tired after a hard night of judging.
I want to prove once and for all that I am not crazy.
* * *
WEST COAST SOUNDS - 1956
San Fran, hipster land,
Jazz sounds, wig sounds,
Earthquake sounds, others,
Allen on Chestnut Street,
Giving poetry to squares,
Corso on knees, pleading,
God eyes.
Rexroth, Ferlinghetti,
Swinging, in cellars,
Kerouac at Locke's,
Writing Neil
On high typewriter,
Neil, booting a choo-choo,
On zigzag tracks.
Now, many cats
Falling in,
New York cats,
Monterey scene cooler,
San Franers, falling down.
Canneries closing.
Sardines splitting
For Mexico.
Me too.
Bob Kaufman, Solitudes Crowded With Loneliness, publisher: New Directions
POEM
I demand that the human race
ceases multiplying its kind
and bow out
I advice it
And as punishnment & reward
for making this plea I know
I'll be reborn
the last human
Everybody else dead and I'm
an old woman roaming the earth
groaning in caves
sleeping on mats
And sometimes I'll cackle, sometimes
pray, sometimes cry, eat & cook
at my little stove
in the corner
"Always knew it anyway,"
I'll say
And one morning won't get up from my mat
1962
* * *
HOW TO MEDIATE
--lights out--
fall, hands a-clasped, into instaneous
ecstasy like a shoty of heroin or morphine,
the gland inside of my brain discharging
the good glad fluid (Holy Fluid) as
I hap-down and hold all my body parts
down to a deadspot trance - Healing
all my sickness - erasing all - not
even the shred of a "I-hope-you" or a
Loony Ballon left in it, but the mind
blank, serene, thoughtlss. When a thought
comes a-springing from afar withits held-
forth figure of image, you spoof it out,
you spuff it off, you fake it, and
it fades, and thought never comes - and
with joy you realize for the first time
"Thinking's just like not thinking -
So I don't have to think
any
more"
1967
Jack Kerouac, Scattered Poems, publisher: City Lights Books
'Mr. Tambourine' [Live, 1964] - Bob Dylan
'I have always considered movies evil; the day that cinema was invented was a black day of mankind. Centuries before photography there were talismans, which actually anticipated photographs, since the dyes they used on the cheap vellum produced patterns when they faded in light. A talisman was a sticky flypaper trying to trap a spirit - cunningly you printed on it a “photograph” of the demon you wanted to capture in it. Photography is a blatant attempt to steal the soul. The astral; body is always just latent in a person, and certain cunning and gifted photographers can take an image of the astral body. The whole thing is having an image of someone to control them. If you’re out of your mind with love, it becomes understandable. Any crime is justifiable in the name of Love. In fact, it shouldn’t have to be a “crime”: Anything is justifiable in the name of Love.'
Kenneth Anger
*
'The science and art of causing change to occur in conformity with the Will. Magick is the Science of understanding oneself an one’s conditions. Is the Art of applying that understanding in action.'
Aleister Crowley
*
'Up to now, poetry has followed a wrong course: rising to the heavens or crawling along the ground, it has ignored the principles of its existence and, not without reason, has constantly been rebuffed by decent people. It has not been modest... the finest quality that ought to exist in an imperfect being.'
Lautreamont, Les Chants de Maldoror
*
'The cinema is essentially the revealer of a whole occult life with which it puts us into direct contact.'
Antonin Artaud
*
'Man is ignorant of his nature, of his own being and power. Even his idea of his limitations is based on experience of the past; and every step in progress extends his empire. There is therefore no reason to assign theoretical limits to what he may be or what he may do.'
Aleister Crowley, Magick in Theory and Practice
*
'The greatest of sorcerers would be the one who could cast a spell on himself to the degree of taking his own phantomasgora for autonomous apparitions.'
Jorge Luis Borges, The Circular Ruins
*
'I am my son, my father, my mother and myself.'
Antonin Artaud
from Into the Pleasure Dome, the Films of Kenneth Anger, edited by Jane Pilling & Mike O’Pray, publisher: British Film Institute