kerouac - welcome

on the road

the road is life

...

The bus roared on . I was going home in October

Everybody goes home in October

...

Some's bastards, some's ain't - That's the score

...

You can't teach the old maestro a new tune

...

The road must eventually lead to the whole world

...

He knew the road would get more interesting, especially ahead, always ahead

...

Nothing behind me

everything ahead of me

as is ever so on the road

...

Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk

a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries .

...

Oh, smell the people !

yelled Dean with his face out the window, sniffing.

Ah, God ! Life !

...

Emotionlessly she kissed me
in the vineyard and walked off down the row. We turned at a dozen paces, for love is a duel, and looked up at each other for the last time.

...
Bitterness, recriminations, advice, morality, sadness

- everything was behind him, and ahead of him was the ragged and ecstatic joy of pure being .
amarezza, recriminazioni, consigli, moralità, tristezza - si era lasciato tutto alle spalle e davanti a lui c'era la gioia aspra ed estatica del puro essere .

...
Stavo meravigliosamente bene e il mondo intero mi si apriva davantiperchè non avevo sogni
I was having a wonderful time and the whole world opened up before me because I had no dreams
...
We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell
I guess-across the night
eravamo sul tetto d’america e tutto ciò che potevamo fare era urlare, immagino, attraverso la notte
...
I just won't sleep - I decided . There were so many other interesting things to do
...
All he needed was a wheel in his hand and four on the road
tutto quello di cui aveva bisogno era un volante fra le mani e quattro ruote su una strada
...

Sure baby, mañana . It was always mañana
For the next few weeks that was all I heard - mañana a lovely word
and one that probably means heaven
...
There was no end to the American sadness and the American madness
Someday we'll all start laughing and roll on the ground
when we realize how funny it's been
...

SAL ...

DOBBIAMO ANDARE E NON FERMARCI
FINCHE' NON SIAMO ARRIVATI
DOVE ANDIAMO AMICO ?
NON LO SO MA DOBBIAMO ANDARE
sal, we gotta go and never stop

going 'till we get there

> sal paradise : pseudonimo di jk <

parte III - cap 10

...
Un dolore mi trafisse il cuore
come succedeva ogni volta che vedevo
una ragazza che mi piaceva
andarsene in direzione opposta alla mia
in questo mondo troppo grande ...
sulla strada

I BELIEVED
in a good home, in sane and sound living, in good food, good times, work, faith and hope . I have always believed in these things . It was with some amazement that I realized I was one of the few people in the world who really believed in these things without going around making a dull middle class philosophy out of it . I was suddenly left with nothing in my hands but a handful of crazy stars .
...
The mad road
lonely leading around the bend into the openings of space towards the horizon Wasatch snows promised us in the vision of the West, spine heights at the world's end, coast of blue Pacific starry night - nobone halfbanana moons sloping in the tangled night sky, the torments of great formations in mist, the huddled invisible insect in the car racing onwards, illuminate. - The raw cut, the drag, the butte, the star, the draw, the sunflower in the grass - orangebutted west lands of Arcadia, forlorn sands of the isolate earth, dewy exposures to infinity in black space, home of the rattlesnake and the gopher the level of the world, low and flat : the charging restless mute unvoiced road keening in a seizure of tarpaulin power into the route .
...
No matter what you do it's bound to be a waste of time in the end so you might as well go mad .

...

For the first time in my life

the weather was not something

that touched me that caressed me

froze or sweated me but became me

...

And for just a moment I had reached the point of ecstasy
that I always wanted to reach, which was the complete step across chronological time into t imeless shadows, and wonderment in the bleakness of the mortal realm, and the sensation of death kicking at my heels to move on, with a phantom dogging its own heels, and myself hurrying to a plank where all the angels dove off and flew into the holy void of uncreated emptiness, the potent and inconceivable radiancies shining in bright Mind Essence, innumerable lotuslands falling open in the magic mothswarm of heaven .
I could hear an indescribable seething roar which wasn't in my ear but everywhere and had nothing to do with sounds .
I realized that I had died and been reborn numberless times but just didn't remember especially because the transitions from life to death and back to life are so ghostly easy, a magical action for naught, like falling asleep and waking up again a million times, the utter casualness and deep ignorance of it .
I realized it was only because of the stability of the intrinsic Mind that these ripples of birth and death took place, like the action of the wind on a sheet of pure, serene, mirror-like water .
I felt sweet, swinging bliss, like a big shot of heroin in the mainline vein; like a gulp of wine late in the afternoon and it makes you shudder; my feet tingled .
I thought I was going to die the very next moment .
But I didn't die ...
...
BUT WHY THINK
about that when all the golden lands ahead of you and all kinds of unforeseen events wait lurking to surprise you and make you glad you're alive to see ?
...
Boys and girls in America
have such a sad time together; sophistication demands that they submit to sex immediately without proper preliminary talk. Not courting talk - real straight talk about souls, for life is holy and every moment is precious .
...
SO IN AMERICA
when the sun goes down and I sit on the old broken-down Pier watching the long, long skies over New Jersey and sense all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the west coast, and all of that road going, all the people dreaming in the immensity of it, and in Iowa I know by now the children must be crying in the land where they let the children cry, and tonight the stars'll be out, and don't you know that God is Pooh Bear ? the evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens all rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think od Dean Moriarty, I even think of old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty .
...
What do you want out of life ?
- I asked, and I used to ask that all the time of girls .
I don't know, - she said   - .    Just wait on tables and try to get alon . - She yawned - .    I put my hand over her mouth and told her not to yawn .    I tried to tell her how excited I was about life and the things we could do together - saying that and planning to leave Denver in two days .   She turned away wearily .    We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad .
...
HE WAS SIMPLY A YOUTH
tremendously excited with life, and though he was a con-man, he was only conniving because he wanted so much to live and to get involved with people who would otherwise pay no attention to him .
...
It was drizzling and mysterious at the beginning of our journey
I could see that it was all going to be one big saga of the mist .   ' Whooee ! '   yelled Dean . ' Here we go ! ' And he hunched over the wheel and gunned her; he was back in his element, everybody could see that, we were all delighted, we all realized we were leaving confusion and nonsense behind and performing our one and noble function of the time, move. And we moved !   We flashed past the mysterious white signs in the night somewhere in New Jersey that say SOUTH (with an arrow) and WEST (with an arrow) and took the south one .
...
It was a hot, sunny afternoon
Reno, Battle Mountain, Elko, all the towns along the Nevada road shot by one after another, and at dusk we were in the Salt Lake flats with the lights of Salt Lake City infinitesimally glimmering almost a hundred miles across the mirage of the flats, twice showing, above and below the curve of the earth, one clear, one dim. I told Dean that the thing that bound us all together in this world was invisible, and to prove it pointed to long lines of telephone poles that curved off out of sight over the bend of a hundred miles of salt .
...
Dean took out other pictures
I realized these were all the snapshots which our children would look at someday with wonder, thinking their parents had lived smooth, well-ordered, stabilized-within-the-photo lives and got up in the morning to walk proudly on the sidewalks of life, never dreaming the raggedy madness and riot of our actual lives, or actual night, the hell of it, the senseless nightmare road. All of it inside endless and beginningless emptiness .
...
I woke up as the sun was reddening
and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was–I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn’t scared, I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost .
I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future, and maybe that’s why it happened right there and then, that strange red afternoon .
...
We give and take and penetrate into incredibly complicated sweetnesses by zigzagging anywhere .
...

on the road - the original scroll <<<

A w w w ! <<<

We should be wondering tonight, ' Is there a world ? ' But I could go and talk on 5, 10, 20 minutes about is there a world, because there is really no world cause sometimes I’m walkin’ on the ground and I see right through the ground. And there is no world. And you’ll find out. is there a beat generation ? - forum at hunter college - new york - 8 november 1958
Tangier 1957 . War, he thought . Our nation has plunged it's mighty sinews into war . . My generation, he whispered is making the sacrifice . It is suffering . Only through suffering does one learn love and fulfillment . I believe I am correct in saying so . My generation, my world is not lost . my generation my world 1943 - fb/beatpoemsontheroad
To hell with all the doubters & bastards that lurk inside my soul the unknown kerouac - rare, unpublished & Nnewly translated writings - books.google
Then we sailed down into the Irish Sea, laid anchor off Belfast, waited there for some British convoy boats and crossed the Irish Sea that afternoon and night straight for Liverpool. 1943 . The year the Beatles were born there, ha ha ha . ... I realized either I was crazy or the world was crazy, and I picked on the world. And of course I was right . vanity of duluoz : an adventurous education 1935-46 - fb/jk
My eyes were glued on life and they were full of tears i miei occhi erano incollati sulla vita. Ed erano pieni di lacrime ... A poet is a blind optimist The world is against him for many reasons . But the poet persists . He believes that he is on the right track, no matter what any of his fellow men say . In his eternal search for truth, the poet is alone. He tries to be timeless in a society built on time . ... The page is long, blank, and full of truth When I am through with it, it shall probably be long, full, and empty with words atop an underwood : early stories and other writings - fb/jk
The beauty of things must be that they end ... I'll go to the south of Sicily in the winter and paint memories of Arles - I'll buy a piano and Mozart me that - I'll write long sad tales about people in the legend of my life - This part is my part of the movie, let's hear yours tristessa
Così io separo le mie frasi come se fossero respiri diversi della mente paris review - interview 1968 ... that's how i therefore separate my sentences, as breath separations of the mind
grandi bevute & feste con piano - natale venuto e andato	big drinkling & piano parties - christmas come and gone
A scene should be selected by the writer for haunted-ness-of-mind interest . If you're not haunted by something, as by a dream, a vision, or a memory, which are involuntary, you're not interested or even involved . book of sketches 1952-57	being crazy is the least of my worries essere pazzo è la minore delle mie preoccupazioni
Ce n'è ancora, di strada big sur The sight of the canyon down there as we renegotiated the mountain road made me bite my lip with marvel and sadness ... An awful realization that I have been fooling myself all my life thinking there was a next thing to do to keep the show going and actually I'm just a sick clown and so is everybody else . ... It’ll take you eternities to get rid of me,’ she adds sadly, which makes me jealous, I want her to say I’ll never get rid of her – I wanta be chased till eternity till I catch her . ... take it easy, everything’s okay, don’t take things too serious, it’s bad enough as it is without you going the deep end over imaginary conceptions . ... I feel guilty for being a member of the human race big sur 1962	- Se non mi do una mossa subito sono spacciato - mi dico, spacciato come negli ultimi tre anni di disperazione ubriaca una disperazione fisica e spirituale e metafisica che non si può imparare a scuola per quanti libri si leggano sull'esistenzialismo o sul pessimismo big sur - pag 8 - books/google ... Something good will come out of all things yet - And it will be golden and eternal just like that - There's no need to say another word . ... You dont have to torture your consciousness with endless thinking . ... Se non scrivo quello che vedo effettivamente accadere su questo globo infelice racchiuso nei contorni del mio teschio penserò che il povero Dio mi abbia mandato sulla terra per niente . ... il mare non parlava per frasi ma per versi big sur
Si può sempre andare oltre oltre – non si finisce mai jk
It's okay, girl, we'll make it till the sun goes down forever And until then what you got to lose but the losing ? We're fallen angels who didn't believe that nothing means nothing ... None of this means anything for krissakes speak up & be true or shut up & go to bed ... And if you dont like the tone of my poems You can go jump in the lake book of blues
poveri cuori umani che battono dappertutto ... Ho un sacco di soldi e i soldi sono solo soldi . ... I started to cry . And I looked up and saw the bleak pines by the bleak mills of Roanoke Rapids with one final despair, like the despair of a man who has nothing left to do but leave the earth forever . ... And Raphael’s grimace meaks - sic - me a leak-tear right quick, I see it, I suffer, we all suffer, people die in your arms, it’s too much to bear yet you’ve got to go on as though nothing was happening, right ? right, readers ? ... Everything is going to the beat - It's the beat generation, it be-at, it's the beat to keep, it's the beat of the heart, it's being beat and down in the world and like oldtime lowdown and like in ancient civilizations the slave boatmen rowing galleys to a beat and servants spinning pottery to a beat ... ... Giornate di tanto tempo fa quando avrei potuto semplicemente salire al piano di sopra e baciare mia madre o mio padre e dire ' Mi piacete perché un giorno sarò un vecchio vagabondo nella desolazione e sarò solo e triste ' . ... Every night I still ask the Lord ' Why ? ' and haven’t heard a decent answer yet . ... My life is a vast and insane legend reaching everywhere without beginning or ending . ... I had a Chet Baker record on and we hoofed at each other in the room, tremendous, the perfect grace of his dancing, casual, like Joe Louis casually hoofing . ... Black black black black bling bling bling bling black black black black bling bling bling bling black black black black bling bling bling jk - desolation angels ... Tieni duro Jack, passa attraverso tutte le cose, e tutte le cose sono un solo sogno, una sola immagine, un solo baleno, un solo occhio triste, un solo lucido mostro di cristallo, una sola parola - Tieniti forte, amico, ritrova il tuo amore per la vita e scendi giù da questa montagna e semplicemente sii - sii - sii le infinite fertilità dell'unica mente infinita, non formulare commenti, lagnanze, critiche, lodi, ammissioni massime, meteore di pensiero, semplicemente scorri, scorri, sii tutto, sii ciò che è, e solo quello che sempre è . angeli della desolazione - 1965 - libro I parte I - desolazione nella solitudine - trad. m.corona
Sono cambiato io e non il vuoto e ho fatto tutto questo e sono andato e venuto e mi sono lamentato e ferito e ho gioito e urlato angeli di desolazione	Scoppieranno guerre per gli occhi delle donne ... We live to long - so long I will ... so shut up, live, travel, adventure, bless and don't be sorry angeli di desolazione
Ero una volta giovane e aggiornato e lucido e sapevo parlare di tutto con nervosa intelligenza e con chiarezza e senza far tanti retorici preamboli come faccio ora; in altre parole questa è la storia di uno sfiduciato che non è più padrone di sé e insieme la storia di un egomaniaco, per costituzione e non per facezia - questo tanto per cominciare dal principio con ordine ed enucleare la verità, perché è proprio questo che voglio fare. - Cominciò una calda notte d'estate, sì, con lei seduta su un parafango quando Julien Alexander che sarebbe... Ma cominciamo dalla storia dei sotterranei di San Francisco . i sotterranei 1992
I have lots of things to teach you now, in case we ever meet, concerning the message that was transmitted to me under a pine tree in North Carolina on a cold winter moonlit night . It said that Nothing Ever Happened, so don't worry . It's all like a dream. Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don't know it because of our thinking-minds . But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever . Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all. It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity . It is perfect . We were never really born, we will never really die . It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It's a dream already ended. There's nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about . I know this from staring at mountains months on end . They never show any expression, they are like empty space. Do you think the emptiness of space will ever crumble away? Mountains will crumble, but the emptiness of space, which is the one universal essence of mind, the vast awakenerhood, empty and awake, will never crumble away because it was never born. ... Geniuses can be scintillating and geniuses can be somber, but it's that inescapable sorrowful depth that shines through - originality . the portable
I’m not the smiling type ... Always considered writing my duty on earth ... Thinking of the stars night after night I begin to realize ' The stars are words ' and all the innumerable worlds in the Milky Way are words, and so is this world too . And I realize that no matter where I am, whether in a little room full of thought or in this endless universe of stars and mountains, it’s all in my mind . There’s no need for solitude . So love life for what it is, and form no preconceptions whatever in your mind . ... After all this kind of fanfare, and even more, I came to a point where I needed solitude and to just stop the machine of 'thinking' and 'enjoying' what they call 'living,' I just wanted to lie in the grass and look at the clouds ... ... Everything is perfect on the street again, the world is permeated with roses of happiness all the time, but none of us know it . The happiness consists in realizing that it is all a great strange dream . ... Paris is a woman but London is an independent man puffing his pipe in a pub . ... No man should go through life without once experiencing healthy, even bored solitude in the wilderness, finding himself depending solely on himself and thereby learning his true and hidden strength . Learning for instance, to eat when he’s hungry and sleep when he’s sleepy . lonesome traveler
se Gesù sedesse alla mia scrivania questa notte, guardando fuori dalla finestra, tutta quella gente che ride felice per l’inizio delle vacanze estive, forse sorriderebbe e ringrazierebbe suo Padre. Non lo so. La gente deve 'vivere', eppure so che soltanto Gesù conosce la risposta definitiva . . come mai non hai mai scritto di Gesù? chiede Ted Berrigan in un’intervista di un anno prima della sua morte. Io non avrei scritto nulla di Gesù? Non venirtene a casa mia a fare il pazzo bugiardo … e … tutto ciò su cui scrivo è Gesù . la civiltà cattolica - il dio di jk - pag 126 - 20.1.2007
Happy . Just in my swim shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark, singing, swigging wine, spitting, jumping, running - that's the way to live . All alone and free in the soft sands of the beach by the sigh of the sea out there, with the Ma-Wink fallopian virgin warm stars reflecting on the outer channel fluid belly waters . And if your cans are redhot and you can't hold them in your hands, just use good old railroad gloves, that's all . . the dharma bums .	You can't live in this world but there's nowhere else to go ... Ignorance is the absence of enlightenment ... One man practicing kindness in the wilderness is worth all the temples this world pulls ... One day I will find the right words and they will be simple . the dharma bums .
It was all completely serious all completely hallucinated all completely happy .... The silence was an intense roar the dharma bums	Meglio dormire libero in un letto scomodo che dormire prigioniero in un letto comodo Better to sleep in an uncomfortable bed free than sleep in a comfortable bed unfree i vagabondi del dharma - dharma bums
A real h a i k u 's gotta be as simple as porridge and yet make you see the real thing, like the greatest haiku of them all probably is the one that goes 'The sparrow hops along the veranda, with wet feet . By Shiki . You see the wet footprints like a vision in your mind and yet in those few words you also see all the rain that's been falling that day and almost smell the wet pine needles . the dharma bums
The world was upsidedown hanging in an ocean of endless space and here were all these people sitting in theatres watching movies . ... The human bones are but vain lines dawdling - the whole universe a blank mold of stars . ... Don’t be a sucker all your life, dummy up, ya dope . ... i wish the whole world was dead serious about food instead of silly rockets and machines and explosives using everybody's food money to blow their heads off anyway . the dharma bums
Then I suddenly had the most tremendous feeling of the pitifulness of human beings, whatever they were, their faces, pained mouths, personalities, attempts to be gay, little petulances, feelings of loss, their dull and empty witticisms so soon forgotten : Ah, for what ? I knew that the sound of silence was everywhere and therefore everything everywhere was silence . Suppose we suddenly wake up and see that what we thought to be this and that, ain't this and that at all? I staggered up the hill, greeted by birds, and looked at all the huddled sleeping figures on the floor. Who were all these strange ghosts rooted to the silly little adventure of earth with me ? And who was I ? . the dharma bums .
When you feel depressed and you wanta go here, wanta go there, remember Mind Essence; the world, like dreams, will never come true . Operate on Intuition, Rest and Be Happy . It's all in your head what happens so you might as well think happiness . ... advice to lovers - don’t hang around with a woman and pretend to be indifferent - but assure every moment that you’re madly in love with her, then cut out - then she’ll KNOW you’re indifferent . ... My witness is the empty sky . My reward is the perfect blue sky at dawn in the desert in a bird-resounding riverbottom grove . some of the dharma
BE IN LOVE WITH YOUR LIFE EVERY MINUTE OF IT	vedo cio che le porte - aperte o chiuse - mi consentono di vedere
Gli uomini mortali non possono odiarsi possono solo essere colpevoli di amare se stessi diari	sembra che io abbia una costituzione che non regge l'alcol e ancor di meno l'idiozia e l'incoerenza diari
LA FELICITA CONSISTE NEL REALIZZARE CHE E TUTTO UN GRANDE STRANO SOGNO happiness consists in realizing it is all a great strange dream . the only truth is music ... COME PUO QUALSIASI COSA FINIRE ?	Lowell continues to haunt me so it’s a whole intact Shakespearean universe in itself book of dreams I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life and not only life, but that great consciousness of life . journal entry
I am mentally exhausted and spiritually discouraged by this shit of being of having to do what everybody wants me to do instead of just my old private life of poesies and nove lies of yore. JK to AG - letters - dharma lion: a biography of allen ginsberg di michael schumacher
I am French Canadian born in New England When I am angry I often curse in French When I dream I often dream in French When I cry I always cry in French the unknown kerouac: rare unpublished & Nnewly translated writings - fb/jk
on the road the road is life ... The bus roared on . I was going home in October Everybody goes home in October ... Some's bastards, some's ain't - That's the score ... You can't teach the old maestro a new tune ... The road must eventually lead to the whole world ... He knew the road would get more interesting, especially ahead, always ahead ... Nothing behind me everything ahead of me as is ever so on the road ... Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries . ... Oh, smell the people ! yelled Dean with his face out the window, sniffing. Ah, God ! Life ! ... Emotionlessly she kissed me in the vineyard and walked off down the row. We turned at a dozen paces, for love is a duel, and looked up at each other for the last time. ... Bitterness, recriminations, advice, morality, sadness - everything was behind him, and ahead of him was the ragged and ecstatic joy of pure being . amarezza, recriminazioni, consigli, moralità, tristezza - si era lasciato tutto alle spalle e davanti a lui c'era la gioia aspra ed estatica del puro essere . ... Stavo meravigliosamente bene e il mondo intero mi si apriva davantiperchè non avevo sogni I was having a wonderful time and the whole world opened up before me because I had no dreams ... We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell I guess-across the night eravamo sul tetto d’america e tutto ciò che potevamo fare era urlare, immagino, attraverso la notte ... I just won't sleep - I decided . There were so many other interesting things to do ... All he needed was a wheel in his hand and four on the road tutto quello di cui aveva bisogno era un volante fra le mani e quattro ruote su una strada ... Sure baby, mañana . It was always mañana For the next few weeks that was all I heard - mañana a lovely word and one that probably means heaven ... There was no end to the American sadness and the American madness Someday we'll all start laughing and roll on the ground when we realize how funny it's been ... SAL ... DOBBIAMO ANDARE E NON FERMARCI FINCHE' NON SIAMO ARRIVATI DOVE ANDIAMO AMICO ? NON LO SO MA DOBBIAMO ANDARE sal, we gotta go and never stop going 'till we get there > sal paradise : pseudonimo di jk < parte III - cap 10 ... Un dolore mi trafisse il cuore come succedeva ogni volta che vedevo una ragazza che mi piaceva andarsene in direzione opposta alla mia in questo mondo troppo grande ... sulla strada . I BELIEVED in a good home, in sane and sound living, in good food, good times, work, faith and hope . I have always believed in these things . It was with some amazement that I realized I was one of the few people in the world who really believed in these things without going around making a dull middle class philosophy out of it . I was suddenly left with nothing in my hands but a handful of crazy stars . ... The mad road lonely leading around the bend into the openings of space towards the horizon Wasatch snows promised us in the vision of the West, spine heights at the world's end, coast of blue Pacific starry night - nobone halfbanana moons sloping in the tangled night sky, the torments of great formations in mist, the huddled invisible insect in the car racing onwards, illuminate. - The raw cut, the drag, the butte, the star, the draw, the sunflower in the grass - orangebutted west lands of Arcadia, forlorn sands of the isolate earth, dewy exposures to infinity in black space, home of the rattlesnake and the gopher the level of the world, low and flat : the charging restless mute unvoiced road keening in a seizure of tarpaulin power into the route . ... No matter what you do it's bound to be a waste of time in the end so you might as well go mad . ... For the first time in my life the weather was not something that touched me that caressed me froze or sweated me but became me ... And for just a moment I had reached the point of ecstasy that I always wanted to reach, which was the complete step across chronological time into t imeless shadows, and wonderment in the bleakness of the mortal realm, and the sensation of death kicking at my heels to move on, with a phantom dogging its own heels, and myself hurrying to a plank where all the angels dove off and flew into the holy void of uncreated emptiness, the potent and inconceivable radiancies shining in bright Mind Essence, innumerable lotuslands falling open in the magic mothswarm of heaven . I could hear an indescribable seething roar which wasn't in my ear but everywhere and had nothing to do with sounds . I realized that I had died and been reborn numberless times but just didn't remember especially because the transitions from life to death and back to life are so ghostly easy, a magical action for naught, like falling asleep and waking up again a million times, the utter casualness and deep ignorance of it . I realized it was only because of the stability of the intrinsic Mind that these ripples of birth and death took place, like the action of the wind on a sheet of pure, serene, mirror-like water . I felt sweet, swinging bliss, like a big shot of heroin in the mainline vein; like a gulp of wine late in the afternoon and it makes you shudder; my feet tingled . I thought I was going to die the very next moment . But I didn't die ... ... BUT WHY THINK about that when all the golden lands ahead of you and all kinds of unforeseen events wait lurking to surprise you and make you glad you're alive to see ? ... Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together; sophistication demands that they submit to sex immediately without proper preliminary talk. Not courting talk - real straight talk about souls, for life is holy and every moment is precious . ... SO IN AMERICA when the sun goes down and I sit on the old broken-down Pier watching the long, long skies over New Jersey and sense all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the west coast, and all of that road going, all the people dreaming in the immensity of it, and in Iowa I know by now the children must be crying in the land where they let the children cry, and tonight the stars'll be out, and don't you know that God is Pooh Bear ? the evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens all rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think od Dean Moriarty, I even think of old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty . ... What do you want out of life ? - I asked, and I used to ask that all the time of girls . I don't know, - she said - . Just wait on tables and try to get alon . - She yawned - . I put my hand over her mouth and told her not to yawn . I tried to tell her how excited I was about life and the things we could do together - saying that and planning to leave Denver in two days . She turned away wearily . We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad . ... HE WAS SIMPLY A YOUTH tremendously excited with life, and though he was a con-man, he was only conniving because he wanted so much to live and to get involved with people who would otherwise pay no attention to him . ... It was drizzling and mysterious at the beginning of our journey I could see that it was all going to be one big saga of the mist . ' Whooee ! ' yelled Dean . ' Here we go ! ' And he hunched over the wheel and gunned her; he was back in his element, everybody could see that, we were all delighted, we all realized we were leaving confusion and nonsense behind and performing our one and noble function of the time, move. And we moved ! We flashed past the mysterious white signs in the night somewhere in New Jersey that say SOUTH (with an arrow) and WEST (with an arrow) and took the south one . ... It was a hot, sunny afternoon Reno, Battle Mountain, Elko, all the towns along the Nevada road shot by one after another, and at dusk we were in the Salt Lake flats with the lights of Salt Lake City infinitesimally glimmering almost a hundred miles across the mirage of the flats, twice showing, above and below the curve of the earth, one clear, one dim. I told Dean that the thing that bound us all together in this world was invisible, and to prove it pointed to long lines of telephone poles that curved off out of sight over the bend of a hundred miles of salt . ... Dean took out other pictures I realized these were all the snapshots which our children would look at someday with wonder, thinking their parents had lived smooth, well-ordered, stabilized-within-the-photo lives and got up in the morning to walk proudly on the sidewalks of life, never dreaming the raggedy madness and riot of our actual lives, or actual night, the hell of it, the senseless nightmare road. All of it inside endless and beginningless emptiness . ... I woke up as the sun was reddening and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was–I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn’t scared, I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost . I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future, and maybe that’s why it happened right there and then, that strange red afternoon . ... We give and take and penetrate into incredibly complicated sweetnesses by zigzagging anywhere . ... on the road - the original scroll <<< A w w w ! <<<

Tonight while walking on the waterfront in the angelic streets I suddenly wanted to tell you how wonderful I think you are. Please don't dislike me. What is the mystery of the world ? Nobody knows they're angels . God's angels are ravishing and fooling me . I saw a whore and an old man in a lunchcart, and God – their faces ! I wondered what God was up to . In the subway I almost jumped up to yell, " What was that for ? What's going on up there ? What do you mean by that ? " Jesus, Allen, life ain't worth the candle, we all know it, and almost everything is wrong, but there's nothing we can do about it, and living is heaven. Well, here we are in heaven . This is what heaven is like. jack kerouac to allen ginsberg < - january 13, 1950 - fb/allenginsberg 2019
Devo essere felice o morire perché la mia condizione terrena è piena di una tristezza insostenibile e io do la colpa a Dio anziché a me stesso un mondo battuto dal vento - books/google	Tutti gli altri sono assolutamente soddisfatti della vita così com'è . Io no Voglio la pura comprensione e poi la vita così com'è . Deciderò io stesso cosa fare della mia vita anche se brucerò nel provarci
L'erba profuma di caldo e si sfalda nell'aria più fredda, l'oscurità si manifesta su tutta l'immensa giostra del mondo e il bestiame resta lì, ad aspettare la triste notte di nebbia spazzata dal vento, le sirene della baia sottostante e le stelle isolate che brillano fra gli squarci di nebbia a mezzanotte . ... Non ho mai chiesto di essere creato e di nascere così inadatto a una simile realtà. Io chiedo solo, ora che sono vivo e consapevole, l'estasi di cui la mia anima ha bisogno. ... mercoledi 12 novembe : Oh, venti poderosi, che schiantate i rami novembrini! Il placido sole splendente, non toccato dalle furie della terra, abbandona il mondo all'oscurità, al selvaggio oblio e alla notte, mentre gli uomini tremano nei loro cappotti e si affrettano a tornare a casa. Poi le luci di casa scintillano in quelle profondità desolate. Eppure ci sono le stelle! Alte e luccicanti in un firmamento spirituale. Noi cammineremo fra mulinelli di vento, guardando intensamente attraverso le nostre sembianze terrestri, alla ricerca di un improvviso sorriso di intelligenza umana al di là di queste insondabili bellezze. Ora il ruggito della furia di mezzanotte e lo scricchiolio dei cardini e delle finestre, ora l'inverno, ora la comprensione della terra e della nsotra presenza su di essa: questo dramma di enigmi e di doppi fondi, di sofferenze e di tristi gioie, queste cose umane nell'elementare vastità di un mondo battuto dal vento. stanotte 55 parole. domani giorno libero, altrimenti, con un po' piu' di parole, aggiungerei il nuovo traguardp di 15.000 parole alla settimana. un mondo battuto dal vento
... non c'era posto dove non si annoiasse e non c'era posto dove andare se non dappertutto - non c'era altro da fare che vagare sotto le stelle - le stelle del west di solito there was nowhere to go but everywhere so just keep on rolling under the stars	... Cercate la vostra anima andate a fiutare il vento andate via lontano ! ... è un amico fallo sognare
LOVE IS ALL HO CREATO QUEL CIELO ? SÌ, PERCHÉ FOSSE STATO COSA DIVERSA DA UN CONCETTO DELLA MIA MENTE NON AVREI DETTO 'CIELO' – ECCO PERCHÉ IO SONO LA ETERNITÀ DORATA . NON SIAMO IN DUE QUI, LETTORE E SCRITTORE, MA UNO, L’ETERNITÀ DORATA, UNO-CHE-È-QUELLA, QUELLO-CHE-È-TUTTO . la scrittura dell’eternità dorata - 1960 DID I CREATE THAT SKY ? YES, FOR, IF IT WAS ANYTHING OTHER THAN A CONCEPTION IN MY MIND I WOULDNT HAVE SAID 'SKY' - THAT IS WHY I AM THE GOLDEN ETERNITY. THERE ARE NOT TWO OF US HERE, READER AND WRITER, BUT ONE, ONE GOLDEN ETERNITY, ONE-WHICH-IT-IS, THAT-WHICH- EVERYTHING-IS . ... the point is we're waiting, not how comfortable we are while waiting. Paleolithic man waited by caves for the realization of why he was there, and hunted; modern men wait in beautified homes and try to forget death and birth. We're waiting for the realization that this is the golden eternity . ... This is the first teaching from the golden eternity . ... Rest and be kind ... Even in dreams be kind, because anyway there is no time, no space, no mind ... Kindness and sympathy, understanding and encouragement, these give: they are better than just presents and gifts : no reason in the world why not . Anyhow, be nice . Remember the golden eternity is yourself . ... The second teaching from the golden eternity is that there never was a first teaching from the golden eternity. So be sure . ... While looking for the light, you may suddenly be devoured by the darkness and find the true light . the scripture of the golden eternity - 1960
life is drenched in spirit - it rains spirit - we would suffer were it not so the word and the way
And what does the rain say at night in a small town, what does the rain have to say ? Who walks beneath dripping melancholy branches listening to the rain ? Who is there in the rain’s million-needled blurring splash, listening to the grave music of the rain at night, September rain, September rain, so dark and soft ? Who is there listening to steady level roaring rain all around, brooding and listening and waiting, in the rain-washed, rain-twinkled dark of night ? ... My philosophy is that you can't explain the world . It's too big and it's too crazy and sometimes it's funny and most of the time it's ... strange . the town and the city
JK once said of the many foreign editions of his novels : When I'm old, you know what I'm going to do ? I'm going to study languages reading these nytimes.com
So therefore I dedicate myself to my art - my sleep - my dreams - my labors - my suffrances - my loneliness - my unique madness - my endless absorption and hunger because I cannot dedicate myself to any fellow being - jk
Non usare il telefono La gente non è mai pronta a rispondere Usa la poesia	Don't use the phone People are never ready to answer it Use poetry Take pen and paper and scribble words so utterly moving that whosoever reads them believes that the world is shaking and that, somewhere, mountains are crumbling . fb/jk
I wonder why our life must quiver between beauty and guilt consummation and sadness desire and regret, immortality and tattered moments unknowable truth and beautiful meaningful lies ... All the souls to explore ! - It's not so necessary to love, really as it is to settle something deep with all of those who really matter Love and hate are the same things, differently sifted through personal ... pride, or what have you ... personal pride or even just personal-ness ... I wonder if happiness is possible It is a state of mind but I'd hate to be a bore all my life if only because of those I love around me Happiness can change into unhappiness just for the sake of change ... Allow me my soul somehow - yet love me ... Don't tell them too much about your soul - They're waiting for just that the journals of jk 1947-1954 - fb/jk
I'm throwing away something that I can't even find in the incredible clutter of my being
I would have preferred the happy man to the unhappy poems he's left us ... And I go home having lost her love . And write this book . ... The details are the life of it, I insist, say everything on your mind, don’t hold back don’t analyze or anything as you go along, say it out . ... Ah, you always go for the ones who don't really want you . the subterraneans
Offer them what they secretly want and they of course immediately become panic-stricken
I want to work in revelations, not just spin silly tales for money I want to fish as deep down as possible into my own subconscious in the belief that once that far down, everyone will understand because they are the same that far down ... forse la vita è questo … un battito di ciglia e stelle ammiccanti maybe that's what life is ... a wink of the eye and winking stars selected letters 1940-1956 ... I don't know, I don't care and it doesn't make any difference ... Feeling is the essence of intellect because without feeling nothing can be KNOWN, Goddammit ! ... So write how you FEEL beat zen, square zen, and zen - selected letters 1957-1969 ... Between incomprehensible and incoherent sits the madhouse I am not in the madhouse ... I'm afraid that you'll never understand me fully and because of that sometimes you'll be frightened, disgusted, annoyed or pleased ... We are sealed in our own little melancholy atmospheres, like planets and revolving around the sun, our common but distant desire jk and allen ginsberg - the letters


While he is best known for his novels, Kerouac is also noted for his poetry written during the Beat movement. Kerouac stated that he wanted "to be considered as a jazz poet blowing a long blues in an afternoon jazz session on Sunday." Many of Kerouac's poems follow the style of his free-flowing, uninhibited prose, also incorporating elements of jazz and Buddhism. "Mexico City Blues" a poem published by Kerouac in 1959 is made up of over 200 choruses following the rhythms of jazz music. In much of his poetry, to achieve a jazz-like rhythm, Kerouac made use of the long dash in place of a period. Several excellent examples of this can be seen throughout "Mexico City Blues" . Everything Is Ignorant of its own emptiness Anger Doesn't like to be reminded of fits . Other well-known poems by Kerouac, such as "Bowery Blues" incorporate jazz rhythm with Buddhist themes of Sangsara, the cycle of life and subsequent death, and Samadhi, the concentration of composing the mind. Also, following the jazz/blues tradition Kerouac's poetry features repetition and overall themes of the troubles or sense of loss experienced in life. . The story of man Makes me sick Inside, outside I don't know why Something so conditional And all talk Should hurt me so . I am hurt I am scared I want to live I want to die I don't know Where to turn In the Void And when To cut Out For no Church told me No Guru holds me No advice Just stone Of New York And on the cafeteria We hear The saxophone O dead Ruby Died of Shot In Thirty Two, Sounding like old times And de bombed Empty decapitated Murder by the clock . And I see Shadows Dancing into Doom In love, holding TIght the lovely asses Of the little girls In love with sex Showing themselves In white undergarments At elevated windows Hoping for the Worst . I can't take it Anymore If I can't hold My little behind To me in my room Then it's goodbye Sangsara For me Besides Girls aren't as good As they look And Samadhi Is better Than you think When it starts in Hitting your head In with Buzz Of glittergold Heaven's Angels Wailing Saying We've been waiting for you Since Morning, Jack Why were you so long Dallying in the sooty room ? This transcendental Brilliance Is the better part ( of Nothingness I sing ) Okay . Quit . Mad . Stop . 29.3.1955 n.y. pomes all sizes : pocket poets - nr 48 - jk https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Kerouac All our best men are laughed at in this nightmare land pomes all sizes . Questo mondo non ha tracce, segni o evidenza di esistenza, né rumori, come l’accidente del vento o le voci o gli animali raglianti eppure ascolta attento l’eterno ssst del silenzio che va avanti durante tutto questo ed è andato avanti da prima e durerà ancora e ancora blues
Voglio essere considerato un poeta jazz che suona un lungo blues in una jam session d'una domenica pomeriggio Colgo 242 strofe - i miei pensieri cambiano e a volte rotolano tra strofa e strofa o dalla metà dell’una a quella della successiva . . I want to be considered a jazz poet blowing a long blues in an afternoon jam session on Sunday . I take 242 choruses - my ideas vary and sometimes roll from chorus to chorus or from halfway through a chorus to halfway into the next nota in mexico city blues - 242 choruses - 1959 . - I want to be considered a jazz poet blowing a long blues in an afternoon jam session on Sunday. I take 242 choruses; my ideas vary and sometimes roll from chorus to chorus or from halfway through a chorus to halfway into the next . - jk Kerouac calls himself a jazz poet There is no doubt about his great sensitivity to language. His sentences frequently move into tempestuous sweeps and whorls and sometimes they have something of the rich music of Gerard Manley Hopkins of Dylan Thomas . allen ginsberg the new york herald tribune - mexico city blues .	A Natale mi portarono una cassetta giocattolo dentro e fuori dalla quale mia sorella Caroline giocava con eserciti di biglietti con tristi figurine di gente in meste cittadine alla Viennese corni, orchestrine in piazza e nella luce bruna della cucina mi chiedevo ' Che significa ? - mistero dei piccoli Sono tutti spaventosi come me ? Sono tutti spaventati come me ? Devono tutti dormire al buio di notte ? ... ' da : i blues di jack kerouac . Non devi preoccuparti della morte . Tutto ciò che fai è come il tuo eroe Il Dolcissimo angelico uomo tenore Che gemeva dolce bop Un pomeriggio in sezione fiati Quando non dirigeva la band E ogni nota nostalgica Ogni nota un Grido di Perdita del nostro Amore e Dominio - esatti, eternati - . MA L’ANIMA PERDURA NELLA STESSA LUCE ACCECANTE . MANGIARE È LO STESSO CHE NON MANGIARE MA LO STOMACO PERDURA IL PENSIERO CONTINUA . DEVI SMETTERE DI PENSARE SMETTERE DI RESPIRARE . COME FAI A VIAGGIARE DA CONFUSO A CONFUSO ? PERDONA TUTTI PER I TUOI PECCATI E MI RACCOMANDO DI’ LORO CHE LI AMI E AMALI mexico city blues - fb/mondadori
Tra l’altro, a proposito della mia idiosincrasia nei confronti dei punti c’è la prosa molto sperimentale di October in the Railroad Earth - scritto con l’intento di riprodurre per tutto il libro il rumore di un treno a vapore che trasporta un centinaio di automobili e un vagone del personale parlante in coda. Era quello il mio modo di scrivere all’epoca e può esserlo ancora se - quando scrivo spedito - il pensiero è confessionale e puro ed entusiasta della vita che si porta dentro. E mi creda Ho passato tutta la mia gioventù a scrivere lentamente fra revisioni - infinite rielaborazioni e cancellature - al punto che riuscivo a scrivere al massimo una frase al giorno ed era una frase priva di sentimento . Dannazione se c’è una cosa che amo dell’arte è proprio il sentimento - non l’astuzia e la dissimulazione dei sentimenti. arte della narrazione - the paris review
stencil murale di Flavio Campagna Kampah in Arte F CK "F CK J CK" ostello bortolino - viadana - mn fb/viadangeles - kampah.com - 2014
Jack Kerouac Beat Painting MA*GA - Gallarate varese - attività pittorica e grafica di jK in mostra dipinti, disegni e fotografie
Come meditare - luci spente - autunno, mani strette, in istantanea estasi come una pera di eroina o morfina. la ghiandola nel mio cervello secernente il buon fluido felice - Fluido Santo - allorché mi ah-bbasso e tengo ogni parte del corpo giù in trance da puntomorto – Sanando ogni mio male – tutto cancellando – neppure resta il brandello di uno 'spero-che-tu' o una Bolla di Pazzia ma la mente libera, serena, spensierata. 'Quando arriva un pensiero spuntando da lontano con la sua esibita figura d’immagine, lo freghi lo sfreghi via, lo smonti e si fa smunto, e il pensiero non viene – e con gioia comprendi per la prima volta «Pensare è proprio come non pensare – Perciò non devo pensare mai più'
Here I was at the end of America ... no more land ... and nowhere to go but back
New York Public Library collezione di manoscritti, fotografie e oggetti appartenuti a famosi scrittori - If you are looking at, say, Jack Kerouac's lighter or his boots, you're seeing the man, in a sense NYPL's director of exhibitions Declan Kiely artribune.com - openculture.com https://vimeo.com/283507872
I can’t type like I used to I’m afraid I can’t write like I used to neither … da lettera all'amico john sterling . L'ULTIMA MACCHINA DA SCRIVERE ALL'ASTA news.justcollecting.com/jack-kerouac - 2020 - fb/allenginsberg his last typewriter - correspondance with allen ginsberg with a photo annotated by jack - a signed pencil drawing of his nephew 'lil paul' - family photos - articles and clothing fb/jk - 2020
Qual è la tua strada amico ? la strada del santo - la strada del pazzo la strada dell'arcobaleno la strada dell'imbecille qualsiasi strada È una strada in tutte le direzioni per tutti gli uomini in tutti i modi CHE DIREZIONE CHE UOMO CHE MODO ? on the road - IV - cap 1 What's your road, man ? - holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road . It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow . Where body how ? we nodded in the rain . neal cassady as dean moriarty in on the road - original scroll It was with a great deal of silly relief that these people let us off the car at the corner of 27th and Federal . Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go . But no matter, the road is life . fu con evidente e stupido sollievo che i turisti ci fecero scendere dalla macchina all’angolo tra la 27a e la Federal. le nostre valigie logore erano di nuovo ammucchiate sul marciapiede; dovevamo ancora andare lontano. ma che importava, la strada è la vita . on the road
maggio 1968_2018 - 50 anni beat generation
Jack Kerouac passed away 51 years ago today . On that first night Allen wrote in his Journal : At dusk I went out to the pasture & saw thru Kerouac’s eyes the sun set on October universe, the first sun set on the first dusk after his death . fb/ag - 21.10.2020 al tramonto sono andato al pascolo & ho visto attraverso gli occhi di Kerouac il sole tramontare sull’universo di ottobre, il primo calar del sole al primo tramonto dopo la sua morte .
... but the beat characters after 1950 vanished into jails and madhouses or were shamed into silent conformity the generation itself was shortlived and small in number JK - fb/beatpoemsontheroad