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Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Your flesh will be a husk, but yr. soul a star



Go Naked To The White
“Evil dies, but good
   Lives forever –
     The evil in you will die,
& your flesh with it, but
the good in yr heart &
   soul will live forever –
     Evil can’t live, good
can’t die –

     Your angriness, impatience,
hassels, even that & your
shit, all – will die, cannot,
wills not to live; but the
  flashes of sweet light will
never die, the love, the
kindness of hope, the
  true work, joy of belief –

                              As for reforming others,
                              let them reform themselves,
                              if they can’t they were
                              meant to die; they
                             are barely alive now if they
                             can’t reform themselves to-
                             morrow; better a cleaner of cesspools than a re-
                             former. Let every man
                             make himself pure as
                             I have done – that’s
                             the “reform” –
                                  Work on your own soul –
                             experiment to see if one
                             man can be saved, as
                             the whole lot en masse
                                can apparently not –
                                 on yr own soul first,
then the angels of 
your soul, yr mother, your
wife (a new, good wife),
your children. If a son
or a daughter is bad,
throw it in the sea-
  Your few good friends.
  Cultivate yourself like a 
  flower; pull out weeds 
  like Cassady, Ginsberg, 
  Burroughs; accept the
  nourishment of White, 
  Holmes; - water yrself
  carefully- & keep your
  flesh fit so as not to
  burden the soul with
  temporal strains & remove
  that much energy
                                  for its prime considera-
                                  tion & meditation –
                                    God, & Good – Direct

contact between you &
  God means no church,
  no society, no reform,
  & almost no relationships,
  & almost no hope in
  relationships – but
  kindness of hope inherent
   in what that is good,
    shall live, & what is
      bad, dies – Your
      flesh will be a husk,
        but yr. soul a star –
             The greatest & only
   final form of “good”
        is human –

                                  Because intellectual
                                  & intellectually willed
                                  good & so conceptual
                                  good is only a word –
                                   “Almost” no hope in
                                  relationships, means,
                                  no foolish hope, but
                                  true hope –
                                       Everyone to his own
                                  true work – There
                                  is no good in work
                                  which does no good.
                                    Railroads, factories,
                                      solve & give nobody
                                      nothing, serve the
                                      flesh only, at great
                                       time & sacrifice, are
                                         evil –
The true work is on
belief; true belief
  in immortal good;
  the continual human
  struggle against
  linguistic religious
  abstraction; recognition
  of the soul beneath
  everything, & humor, –
Lights in the foggy
night are not necessarily
bleak & friendless, but
  just lights (in fact to
  light yr. way), & fog
  from the necessary sea –
     Stupid, fatuous men
are not necessarily
    all stupid & fatuous,

  nor all on the horizon,
nor completely devoid of
good, or hope – The evil
in them will die, the
good will live – Bleak
& friendless universe is
  only one of several
  illusions, the greatest &
  only immortal one of
  which is good –
    Enough, the words to
  this “idea,” or belief,
    are limited, the combi-
  nations to describe it
    almost exhausted al-
    ready – Manifestations
    of this in humanity, there-
      fore in your writing work,
           are endless however –
This is the return of
       the Will

Just the sight of the “snow”
under the locomotive, brings back
sweet light of the boy soul in
Lowell, the human earnest desire
to revisit Lowell this New Year’s
& soak up the sad hints of
the past in a grateful soul,
  from just … “snow” – So
    immortal love also hides
    in things – talisman details
     for the temple soul –
      but soul, soul, soul, the
       “details” is the life of
            this thing –
GO NAKED TO THE WHITE.”



Kerouac, Jack.  OCT 31 1952, Book of sketches. Penguin Books, 1952-1953, New York. PageS 228 - 233. 

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Spinal Attachments


I moved here with a giant mattress and no self-identity. I ran into a ghost-Queen from my past who owned an intricately beautiful four-post bed. The same bed I had chased her tiny children around in California, was now sitting in her garage looking for a new life. So we called upon her two young college boys and watched as they sweated and grunted the heavy swirling pieces to the third floor of my new life/apartment. 

Once they left, I wiped down all the pieces and assembled it myself. I'd never owned such a grand piece of furniture before. I felt quite accomplished sitting there in my single-dwelling space.


And now the bed has become me. It is the 34th vertebrate dripping down my spine. It is a womb where I come to float, breathe, and fix my heart (after my three year-old shreds it). It is the place I sit and wait for my Someone to come hold me in. It is where I lay flat on my back, stretch out my tight swollen fingers, and try to stare into their future. It is where I come to ask God my many restless questions. It is the space I gravitate to when I doodle a drawing or thumb through a book. It is a place where my Someone pulls me in tight, kisses my forehead, and reassures me that shreaded-up Mom-hearts always heal with time. It is a place of equanimity and sometimes laughter. It is a secret sanctuary protecting against bad guys.

It is a calming glow-tent of all my love and happiness.