On top of that if  you know me,  I pronounce you an ignu

Ignu knows nothing of the world
A great ignoramus in factories though he may own, or inspire them or even be production manager
Ignu has knowledge of the angel, indeed ignu is an angel in comical form [..]
Ignu may be queer though like not kind ignu blows archangels for the strange thrill
A gnostic, women love him Christ overflowed with trembling semen for many a dead aunt
He’s a great cocksman, most beautiful girls are worshipped by ignu
Hollywood dolls or lone Marys of Idaho, long-legged publicity women and secret housewives
have known ignu in another lifetime and remember their lover
Husbands also are secretely tender to ignu, their buddy
oldtime friendship can do anything cuckhold bugger, drunk trembling and happy

Ignu lives only once and eternally and knows it
he sleeps in everybody’s bed, everyone’s lonesome for ignu, ignu knew solitude early
So ignu’s a primitive of cock and mind
Equally the ignu has written liverish tomes personal metaphysics abstract
images that scratch the moon, “lightningflash- flintspark”, naked lunch, fried shoes, adios king

The shadow of the angel is waving in the opposite direction
dawn of intelligence turns the telephones into strange animals
he attacks the rose garden with his mystical shears ..snip..snip..snip..

Ignu has painted Park Avenue with his own long melancholy
and ignu giggles in a hard chair over tea in Paris, bald in his decaying room a black hotel[…]
Ignu goofs night under bridges and laughs at battleships
Ignu is a battleship without guns in the North Sea lost, O the flowerness of the moment
He knows geography, he was there before he’ll get out and die already
reborn a bearded humming Jew of Arabian mournful jokes
listening to music musing happy at the fall of a leaf, the moonlight of immortality in his hair [..]
harckening to the silence of a well at midnight under a red star [..]

Ignu is a natural, you can see it when he pays the cabfare abstracted
pulling off his money from an impossible saintly roll
or counting his disappearing pennies to give to the strange bus driver whom he admires

Ignu has sought you out he’s the seeker of God
And God breaks down the world for him every ten years
He sees lightning flash in empty daylight when the sky is blue [..]
He wants to die give up go mad break through into Eternity
Live on and teach an aged saint or break down to an eyebrow clown

 All ignus knows each other in a moment’s talk and measure each other up at once
At lifetime friends romantic winks and giggles across continents
Sad moment paying the cab goodbye and speeding away uptown

It's the soul that makes the style the tender firecracker of his thought
the amity of letters from strange cities to old friends
and the new radiance of morning on a foreign bed

A comedy of personal being his grubby divinity


Thoughts of mine written by Allen Ginsberg 
and sung by Thanasis Papakonstantinou
To the "ignus" of my life ...

0 μίλησαν και είπαν:

Δημοσίευση σχολίου