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Apr 21, 2014

Admonitions To A Special Person

Watch out for power, 
for its avalanche can bury you, 
snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain.

Watch out for hate, 
it can open its mouth and you’ll fling yourself out
to eat off your leg, an instant leper.

Watch out for friends, 
because when you betray them, 
as you will, 
they will bury their heads in the toilet
and flush themselves away.

Watch out for intellect, 
because it knows so much it knows nothing
and leaves you hanging upside down, 
mouthing knowledge as your heart
falls out of your mouth.

Watch out for games, the actor’s part, 
the speech planned, known, given, 
for they will give you away
and you will stand like a naked little boy, 
pissing on your own child-bed.

Watch out for love
(unless it is true, 
and every part of you says yes including the toes) , 
it will wrap you up like a mummy, 
and your scream won’t be heard
and none of your running will end.

Love? Be it man. Be it woman.
It must be a wave you want to glide in on, 
give your body to it, give your laugh to it, 
give, when the gravelly sand takes you, 
your tears to the land. To love another is something
like prayer and can’t be planned, you just fall
into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.

Special person, 
if I were you I’d pay no attention
to admonitions from me, 
made somewhat out of your words
and somewhat out of mine.
A collaboration.
I do not believe a word I have said, 
except some, except I think of you like a young tree
with pasted-on leaves and know you’ll root
and the real green thing will come.

Let go. Let go.
Oh special person, 
possible leaves, 
this typewriter likes you on the way to them, 
but wants to break crystal glasses
in celebration, 
for you, 
when the dark crust is thrown off
and you float all around
like a happened balloon. 

      -Anne Sexton
Apr 20, 2014 / 1 note
Apr 20, 2014 / 55 notes
Poetry is a naked woman, a naked man, and the distance between them.
Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Poetry as Insurgent Art (via fromyou-ananthology)
Apr 19, 2014 / 128 notes
But yet, but yet, woe, woe unto those who think that the Beat Generation means crime, delinquency, immorality, amorality … woe unto those who attack it on the grounds that they simply don’t understand history and the yearning of human souls … woe in fact unto those who make evil movies about the Beat Generation where innocent housewives are raped by beatniks! … woe unto those who spit on the Beat Generation, the wind’ll blow it back.
Jack Kerouac (via fuckyeahbeatgeneration)
Apr 18, 2014 / 28 notes
Apr 17, 2014 / 4,324 notes
so-personal:

everything personal♡
Apr 17, 2014 / 223,342 notes

so-personal:

everything personal♡

Apr 17, 2014 / 212,190 notes

r0wdyruff:

help me, i am trapped

in a haiku factory

save me, before they

(via coolator)

I am crazy as hell, but I know it. And knowing it is a kind of sanity that makes the sickness worse.
Apr 17, 2014 / 11,272 notes
illanikz:

'Downtown Special' at Gussie's Chicken and Waffles in San Francisco
Apr 17, 2014 / 3 notes

illanikz:

'Downtown Special' at Gussie's Chicken and Waffles in San Francisco

fuckyeahbeatgeneration:

Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Apr 17, 2014 / 77 notes

fuckyeahbeatgeneration:

Lawrence Ferlinghetti

sestination:

In lieu of actually writing my poem yesterday, I tried to craft an elaborate writing ritual to maybe make the creativity flow…or make me feel productive. Well, I guess it worked.
Apr 17, 2014 / 85 notes

sestination:

In lieu of actually writing my poem yesterday, I tried to craft an elaborate writing ritual to maybe make the creativity flow…or make me feel productive. Well, I guess it worked.

notvianbutstill:

 Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac and Gregory Corso
Apr 17, 2014 / 363 notes

notvianbutstill:

 Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac and Gregory Corso

Find what you love and let it kill you.
Charles Bukowski (via poemsandwords)
Apr 17, 2014 / 221 notes
Apr 17, 2014 / 9,045 notes