#Ferlinghetti

[subtextures]

Read this again today. Mostly playfully Beat with large dashes of romanticism. Ending with a fairly bitter condemnation of modern poetry as prose in the typography of poetry, which is interesting considering the poetry anthology wars of the mid-twentieth century which pitted academic poetry against the Beats as the raw vs. the cooked.

[quotesenquatsch]

“I am awaiting perpetually and forever a renaissance of wonder” ― Lawrence Ferlinghetti

[maggiethecatchatterley]

Satayana vuol dire,

santo veicolo

Sapete –

Una Croce

Una Via

Una Caverna dentro

giù

verso

la luna

Essenze splendenti

d’universi di stelle

disseminate tra la polvere

e sporcizia –

che ardono

nella dinamo

dei nostri pensieri

nella fornace

della luna

Nel Giugno

dei Calabroni

nel tuo letto

di crine

Jack Kerouac

16a strofa (da Mexico City Blues)❤️

[daimonclub]

Christmas poems

Christmas poems for a merry atmosphere Christmas poems for a magic holiday atmosphere, to enlighten and warm up your festive time by English-culture.com blog and Carl William Brown. Merry Christmas! Let Every Day Be Christmas Christmas is forever, not for just one day, for loving, sharing, giving, are not to put away like bells and lights and tinsel, in some box upon a shelf. The good you do for others is good you do yourself. Peace on Earth, good will to men, kind thoughts and words of cheer, are things we should use often and not just once a year. Remember too the Christ-child, grew up to be a man; to hide him in a cradle, is not our dear Lord's plan. So keep the Christmas spirit, share it with others far and near, from week to week and month to month, throughout the entire year! Norman Wesley Brooks

Where are the children who haven’t got their Christmas tree with silver snow, fairy lights and chocolate fruits? Hurry up, hurry up, gathering, We go in Chritmas trees land, I know where it is. Gianni Rodari

Whose heart doth hold the Christmas glow Hath little need of Mistletoe; Who bears a smiling grace of mien Need waste no time on wreaths of green; Whose lips have words of comfort spread Needs not the holly - berries red - His very presence scatters wide The spirit of the Christmastide. John Kendrick Bangs

Christ climbed down from His bare Tree this year and ran away to where there were no rootless Christmas trees hung with candycanes and breakable stars Christ climbed down from His bare Tree this year and ran away to where there were no gilded Christmas trees and no tinsel Christmas trees and no tinfoil Christmas trees and no pink plastic Christmas trees and no gold Christmas trees and no black Christmas trees and no powderblue Christmas trees hung with electric candles and encircled by tin electric trains and clever cornball relatives Lawrence Ferlinghetti

It was the calm and silent night! Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might And now was queen of land and sea. No sound was heard of clashing wars, Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain; Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars, Held undisturbed their ancient reign, In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago. Alfred Domett

It is the Christmas time: And up and down 'twixt heaven and earth, In glorious grief and solemn mirth, The shining angels climb. Dinah Maria Mulock

I love the Christmas-tide, and yet, I notice this, each year I live; I always like the gifts I get, But how I love the gifts I give! Carolyn Wells

'Tis blessed to bestow, and yet, Could we bestow the gifts we get, And keep the ones we give away, How happy were our Christmas day! Carolyn Wells

The earth has grown old with its burden of care, But at Christmas it is always young; The heart of the jewel burns lustrous and fair, And its soul, full of music, breaks forth on the air When the song of the angels is sung. It is coming, Old Earth, it is coming tonight! On the snowflakes which cover thy sod The feet of the Christ-child fall gentle and white, And the voice of the Christ-child tells out with delight That mankind are the children of God. Phillips Brooks

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end. The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Let Christmas not become a thing Merely of merchant's trafficking, Of tinsel, bell and holly wreath And surface pleasure, but beneath The childish glamour, let us find Nourishment for soul and mind. Let us follow kinder ways Through our teeming human maze, And help the age of peace to come From a Dreamer's martyrdom. Madeline Morse

Christmas Holidays Along the Woodford road there comes a noise Of wheels, and Mr. Rounding's neat post-chaise Struggles along, drawn by a pair of bays, With Reverend Mr. Crow and six small boys, Who ever and anon declare their joys With trumping horns and juvenile huzzas, At going home to spend their Christmas days, And changing learning's pains for pleasure's toys. Six weeks elapse, and down the Woodford way A heavy coach drags six more heavy souls, But no glad urchins shout, no trumpets bray, The carriage makes a halt, the gate-bell tolls, And little boys walk in as dull and mum As six new scholars to the Deaf and Dumb! Thomas Hood

A White Christmas 'Twas the night before christmas. With a blanket of white. That covered the earth all through the night. The trees sparkled like diamonds. With a glitter so bright. That each little twinkle made its own christmas light. A hope and a prayer a white christmas would be. Awaiting the dawn so all could see. The beauty and joy a white christmas does bring. To the holiday season as carolers sing. For twas the night before Christmas. God answered your prayer. With a blanket of white. Placed with God's loving care." Carla Jean Laglia Esely

Christmas poetical decorated atmosphere

Christmas At The Orphanage But if they'd give us toys and twice the stuff most parents splurge on the average kid, orphans, I submit, need more than enough; in fact, stacks wrapped with our names nearly hid the tree: these sparkling allotments yearly guaranteed a lack of - what? - family? - I knew exactly what it was I missed as we were lined up number rank and file: to share my pals' tearing open their piles meant sealing the self, the child that wanted to scream at all You stole those gifts from me; whose birthday is worth such words? The wish-lists they'd made us write out in May lay granted against starred branches. I said I'm sorry. Bill Knott

Christmas Past Oh happy days, the snow fell over-night, we have a white Christmas in our sight. Only a few more days and nights, Christmas will shine bright of white. Remember those beautiful Christmas Eves, when we gathered round our colorful trees. Remember when we caroled down the street, sang Christmas songs oh so sweet. Memories are precious let’s not forget, don’t do anything you might regret. Christmas is the time of year to share, to treasure family far and near. This Christmas with the lights shining bright, reflecting God’s blanket of white. Sing sweet songs in memory, past Christmas’s history. Melvina Germain

Read also our other posts on Christmas  ; Christmas quotes ; Best Christmas songs ; 60 great Christmas quotes ; Christmas tree origin and quotes ;  Traditional Christmas Carols ; Christmas markets in England ; Christmas markets in America ; Christmas jokes ; Christmas cracker jokes ; Christmas food ; Christmas thoughts ; Christmas story ; Christmas in Italy ; Christmas holidays ; Christmas songs ; Christmas poems ; An Essasy on Christmas by Chesterton ;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c6hNzsa-Tno Read the full article

[oldshowbiz]

Cops vs. Poets

[apoemaday]

Recipe for Happiness

by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

One grand boulevard with trees with one grand cafe in sun with strong black coffee in very small cups.

One not necessarily very beautiful man or woman who loves you.

One fine day.

[archivedotorgfan]

from the 'search and destroy: punk photography,' 1976–79. funded by allen ginsberg and lawrence ferlinghetti, 'search and destroy,' catalyzed the early punk rock movement. it is a historic exhibition of photography documenting the international punk underground.

[davidhudson]

Lawrence Ferlinghetti, March 24, 1919 – February 22, 2021.

[metamorphesque]

The state of the world calls out for poetry to save it.

Poetry as Insurgent Art [I am signaling you through the flames], Lawrence Ferlinghetti

[factorygroupie]

City Lights Bookstore

[moviesiveseenandwanttoremember]

Martin Scorsese’s “The Last Waltz” April 26, 1978.

[intotheclash]

Il mondo è un gran bel posto in cui nascere se non v'importa che la felicità non sia sempre così divertente se non v'importa un po' d’inferno qua e là proprio quando tutto va bene perché anche in paradiso non è che si canti tutto il tempo Il mondo è un gran bel posto in cui nascere se non v'importa che qualcuno muoia continuamente o magari solo di fame per un po’ di tempo il che non è poi tanto male se non si tratta di voi Oh il mondo è un gran bel posto in cui nascere se non v'importa molto di qualche cervello perso su ai posti di comando o di una bomba o due di tanto in tanto sui vostri visi alzati o di simili contrattempi cui va soggetta la nostra società di Gran Marca con i suoi uomini distinti e con quelli estinti e i suoi preti e altri poliziotti e le sue svariate segregazioni e indagini parlamentari e altre costipazioni che la nostra sciocca carne eredita Sì il mondo è il posto più bello del mondo per un sacco di cose come fare buffonate e fare l'amore essere tristi e cantare canzoni sottovoce e avere ispirazioni e andare in giro guardando ogni cosa odorando fiori e dare pizzicotti alle statue e persino pensare e baciare la gente e fare bambini e portare i pantaloni e agitare cappelli e ballare e andare a nuotare nei fiumi e fare picnic nel pieno dell'estate e insomma “godendosi la vita” Sì (Lawrence Ferlinghetti)

[garadinervi]

Diane di Prima, (1968, 1971), Revolutionary Letter #15, in Revolutionary Letters, The Pocket Poets Series #27, City Lights Books, San Francisco, CA, 1974, p. 26

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

'Salvation' by Hamid Nakkah, Iran.

* * * *

“Don't slip on the banana peel of nihilism, even while listening to the roar of Nothingness."

―Lawrence Ferlinghetti (March 24, 1919 – February 22, 2021)

[oldshowbiz]

Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s Desk.

[kiki-de-la-petite-flaque]

Parigi, gennaio 1982.

George Whitman, Allen Ginsberg e Lawrence Ferlinghetti davanti l'ingresso della libreria Shakespeare and Company.