HOWL
for
Carl Solomon
I
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,
starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for
an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection
to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high
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And even then, I forgive myself for the root causes of these fears: unprocessed, previously unforgiven actions/SELF-JUDGEMENTS that I made of myself in the past (both recent and otherwise) where I did not follow my soul and instead swallowed my inspired words, my inspired actions, and my inspired dreams. And since the past course is no guarantee of the future, these moments do not direct me.
(and i'll ask for forgiveness and forgive myself in my next post, haha)
Back to the poem:
I am quite glad the footnote to howl is transcendent of all the suffering experienced by Ginsberg and his contemporaries' scattered search for forgiveness and personal connection to all of the universe, to all of our relations.
He still never directly says by name that Moloch is holy, which in order to put all of reality on the same playing field, I feel I must do. Also, he omits that madness is holy, too ("madman", yes, but I believe madness itself is wayy holy, too, heh) - though he does pretty much covers all these bases in spirit, heh, i mean, he names quite a lot as holy, haha.
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