Reminiscences Of A Starless American Night  In The Cold Neon Highways Scattering Truth Consciousness: Allen Ginsberg’s Howl and The Absolute Conformity of the Self 

 

“We used to believe 

In the good ole days 

We still receive 

In little ways 

The things of kindness 

& unsporting brow 

Forget & allow

Did you know freedom exists 

Ina school book …

– Jim Morrison 

“I’m with you in Rockland

in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night”. – Howl by Allen Ginsberg, San Francisco 1955-56

If I am awake in those pavements

Received the light granted to me

If I am awake in those moments

By a sudden shiver that disentangled my brain from feelings

Reason didn’t persuade me to walk on waters

Nor did it profess to ensconce the sun on the spiral staircase

Then it looked utterly simple

This world, its maiden plump shadow and earthly odour

This body came out of a sensation

Invigorating the carcass with uranium sands

My nerves dangled with stars in profusion

Encircled a whole creation

A marble of plasticity that must explain the separation of superposition logic

Mixing sweat with lava and the charred bones of animal earth

A labour of the soul interpenetrating the elemental worlds

A play of inconscience with the superconscience

Anima Mundi entered the heart of the Heliospheres

An arrow spanning eons was shot from the quivering lips

It sprung words from the fountain of liquid time

Liquid because it obeyed gravity and didn’t think otherwise

And utterly innocent memories lapsed in the guise

Too wise to forget the vaporised dew on the face of things

That will clutter as raindrops on the shaligram shila

Nature’s precedents amplify the colors of a reminiscing spring

Like an old gramophone in the heart

It beat the desired vibration of subatomic chondrites

Louanimghor louvanimghor louhastreta soham

Poetry’s miniature in the formless attributes

Ever seeking words to manifest its new sign

Through the dilemma of stillness amidst the last action of the gods

The Supermind has descended on earth

And as they prepare the ceremony of the dead and the unborn living

From vrihat samhita sutras

The seven seers awake the child from their sleep

A time when the winds whipped the sea screaming:

Howl! Howl! Howl!

– J

 

PS: http://psychedelicsutra.blogspot.in