Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gary Goodrow, Allen Ginsberg, Charlie Plymell, Philip Whalen in front of City Lights, August 1963. Allen was back in San Francisco for the first time since returning from India a month earlier.
Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gary Goodrow, Allen Ginsberg, Charlie Plymell, Philip Whalen in front of City Lights, August 1963. Allen was back in San Francisco for the first time since returning from India a month earlier.
Born 24 March 1919, he is an ass-kicking 93 years old today.
Invent a new language anyone can understand.
Climb the Statue of Liberty.
Reach for the unattainable.
Kiss the mirror and write what you see and hear.
Dance with wolves and count the stars, including the unseen.
Be naïve, innocent, non-cynical, as if you had just landed on earth (as indeed…
Lawrence Ferlinghetti recording a conversation with Allen Ginsberg at the Albert Memorial while Shakespeare listens in. By John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins
(Source: youwalkintotheroom)
Lawrence Ferlinghetti (right) and Michael McClure, one of the Six Gallery Reading poets (on the floor), 1957.
Picture by Nat Farbman
“Dove sta amore
Where lies love
Dove sta amore
Here lies love
The ring dove love
In lyrical delight
Hear love’s hillsong
Love’s true willsong
Love’s low plainsong
Too sweet painsong
In passages of night
Dove sta amore
Here lies love
The ring dove love
Dove sta amore
Here lies love.”Lawrence Ferlinghetti, “Dove Sta Amore”
THIS BOOK.
Thisbookthisbookthisbook.
Ferlinghetti first published this in 1950 after transcribing it from a radio broadcast he did, and has been adding to it ever since. This is the 2007 version, with his handwriting on the cover.
If you have ever even considered liking poetry, get your hands on this book right now.
Ferlinghetti reading poetry to jazz at The Cellar.
San Francisco, possibly 1957. In 1957 Ferlinghetti and Kenneth Rexroth gave a joint poetry reading at The Cellar that was recorded and is now available on iTunes: http://is.gd/AOFRg6.
Por Mark LaFlaur, via Flickr.
(Source: tolove-a-wildthing)
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.
— Recipe For Happiness Khaborovsk Or Anyplace, Lawrence Ferlinghetti (via nomadicrevery)(Source: bloodcurdlingsameness)