Honester than that...

This just popped in my head, for some reason.

I love this. So comforting. Like a blanket. Of hugs.

I'm with you in Rockland

where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls collapse O skinny legions run outside O starry-spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory forget your underwear we're free

I'm with you in Rockland

in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night

Allen ginsburg


Agnar Løvdaas said...

In Norway we also like the poetrys. You'll be finding this to be good I am thinking.
Arne Garborg is a mighty poem maker.
Do not fear the giant eagles they will watch over you and keep you safe.
"Til deg, du heid"

by Arne Garborg

To you, you Heath

To you, you Heath and pale Moor
with Menyanthes
Where the Heron flies and Plovers rise
I give my verse.

To you, you withering Heather on Hills
Where Dreams float,
I give my Song of Dimd and Draug
and dull Lives.


I know you, you Trollhome gray,
you shadowy Night!
I ran scared; but yet again
must I see you again.

I know you, you thundering sea
with evil song;
You gave me terror and deep fear
so many a time.

I know the strife, hard and slow
against Witchcrafts grasp.
God help us with our broken bones
and the fall of Men!


I know you - I know you,
who did not win! -
I saw your Fight, I know your Way
In the Shadow-lands.

I felt the ugly Strife myself
for many Years,
with Courage strong, with Backs bent,
with large Wounds.

You Float around me, you by me sit,
you poor Spirit!
Inside me you still pull and tear
at your bonds.

I know it well: the strong Trolls,
the powerful Will;
A Boat in a Waterfall, a Song in Minor,
extinguished in a Scream.


But the Lark rises from forgotten Graves
with Victory's Song;
and the gentle Wind flows from the Sea
so fresh and mild.

And if we feel Sorrow and Fear
and Longing sow,
We must believe the Lark's Song,
that promises a new Spring.

Emile said...

This has always been my favorite section of Howl. I like the image of a blanket of hugs.
Thank you.
My father's been in the ICU at UAB for the past few weeks, and these verses continue to play across my mind. The soul's airplanes roaring over the roof, and the emerging skinny legions running through the streets.
You are beautiful.

Jimmy said...

Emile, as nice as it is to have another fellow Birminghammer, I'm so sorry to hear about your father. &=( You and your sweet family will most definitely be in my prayers.

And, thank you, Agnar for the suggestion! Beautiful imagery! I need to check out more by Mr Garborg!