Frasi di Allen Ginsberg

“La poesia non è un'espressione. È il tempo di notte, dormire nel letto, pensiero di quello che realmente pensi, rendere il mondo privato pubblico, ed è questo che il poeta fa.”

“Solo lo scienziato è vero poeta: ci dà la luna, ci promette le stelle, ci farà un nuovo universo se sarà il caso.”

“Ho visto le menti migliori della mia generazione distrutte dalla pazzia, affamate nude isteriche, trascinarsi per strade di negri all'alba in cerca di droga rabbiosa, | hipsters dal capo d'angelo ardenti per l'antico contatto celeste con la dinamo stellata nel macchinario della notte, | che in miseria e stracci e occhi infossati stavano su partiti a fumare nel buio soprannaturale di soffitte a acqua fredda fluttuando sulle cime delle città contemplando jazz.”

“Che sfinge di cemento e alluminio ha spaccato loro il cranio e ne ha mangiato cervelli e immaginazione? Maloch! Solitudine! Suicidio! Bruttura! Pattumiere e inottenibile dollari! Bambini che urlano sotto le scale! Ragazzi che singhiozzan negli eserciti! Vecchi che piangono nei parchi! […] (da Urlo & Kaddish”

“Jack Kerouac, nuovo Buddha della prosa americana.”

“[Ultime parole prima di cadere in coma] Sono stanco, e devo andare a dormire.”

“Ribellati contro i governi, contro Dio.”

“[Rivolto a Walt Whitman] Passeggeremo tutta notte per strade solitarie? Gli alberi aggiungono ombra all'ombra, luci spente nelle case, ci sentiremo soli. | Cammineremo sognando la perduta America dell'amore lungo automobili azzurre nei viali, verso casa nel nostro cottage silenzioso? | Ah, caro padre, grigio di barba, vecchio solitario maestro di coraggio, che America avesti quando Caronte smise di spingere il suo ferry e tu scendesti su una riva fumosa a guardare la barca scomparire sulle acque nere del Lete?”

“Follow your inner moonlight, don’t hide the madness.”

“I know too much and not enough”

“We're all golden sunflowers inside.”

“Not even the human
imagination satisfies
the endless emptiness of the soul.”

“Our heads are round so thought can change direction”

“Whoever controls the media, the
images, controls the culture.”

“The weight of the world is love.
Under the burden of solitude,
under the burden of dissatisfaction
the weight, the weight we carry is love.”

“Poetry is the one place where people can speak their original human mind. It is the outlet for people to say in public what is known in private.”

“I really believe, or want to believe, really I am nuts, otherwise I'll never be sane.”

“Concentrate on what you want to say to yourself and your friends. Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness. You say what you want to say when you don't care who's listening.”

“Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.”

“Democracy! Bah! When I hear that I reach for my feather boa!”

“If I had a soul I sold it
for pretty words
If I had a body I used
it up spurting my essence

Allen Ginsberg warns you
dont follow my path
to extinction”

“I don't do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision.”

“Which way will the sunflower turn surrounded by millions of suns?”

“Another lover hits the universe. The circle is broken. But with death comes rebirth. And like all lovers and sad people, I am a poet.”

“I smoke marijuana every chance I get.”

“Everything is holy! everybody's holy! everywhere is holy! everyday is in eternity! Everyman's an angel!”

“We are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter”

“It isn't enough for your heart to break because everybody's heart is broken now.”

“Poets are damned… but see with the eyes of angels.”

“America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.”

“I never dreamed the sea so deep,
The earth so dark; so long my sleep,
I have become another child.
I wake to see the world go wild.”

“Everybody's serious but me.”

“I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.”

“My books piled up before me for my use waiting in space where I placed them, they haven't disappeared, time's left its remnants and qualities for me to use -- my words piled up, my texts, my manuscripts, my loves.”

“A naked lunch is natural to us
We eat reality sandwiches.
But allegories are so much lettuce.
Don't hide the madness.”

“What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!--and you, Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?”

“what sphinx of cement and aluminium bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination”