Allen Ginsberg + Patti Smith = Da bomb

E’ solo mercoledi, fa caldo, magari qualcuno in metro vi ha starnutito addosso, qualcun’altro vi ha intralciato la strada, quelli della Mondolibri vi hanno rincorso per l’ennesima volta, al semaforo eravate così presi a lamentarvi del fatto che il suddetto semaforo di m*** non diventa mai verde da non accorgervi che era diventato verde.

Nella fattispecie, questa è stata la mia mattinata, ma ci siamo capiti, magari anche per voi è stata una di quelle mattinate in cui vi servono tutte le vostre energie solo per trying to keeping your shit together.

Bene, in questi casi c’è proprio bisogno di sedersi un attimo e spararsi in cuffia Patti Smith che legge Allen Ginsberg.

On Cremation of Chögyam Trungpa, Vidyadha è una poesia di Allen Ginsberg (poeta beat, compagno di bevute di Jack Kerouac) che ripercorre la giornata in cui venne cremato il santone buddhista Chögyam Trungpa nel 1987 (guardate qui). Patti Smith, alla quale non è bastato spassarsela con Robert Mapplethorpe su e giù per Manhattan negli anni ’70, no, era pure BFF con Ginsberg, porta spesso in tour questa poesia, leggendola accompagnata dal pianoforte. Ascoltatevi sta meraviglia.

I noticed the dirt road; I noticed the car rows in the parking lot
I noticed the ticket takers, noticed the cash and the checks and credit cards,
I noticed the buses, noticed mourners, I noticed their children in red dresses,
I noticed the entrance sign, noticed retreat houses, noticed blue and yellow flags
Noticed the devotees, their trucks and buses, guards in khaki uniforms,
I noticed the crowds, noticed misty skies, noticed the all pervading smiles and empty eyes
I noticed the pillows, coloured red and yellow, square pillows round and round
I noticed the Tori gate, passers-through bowing, a parade of men & women in formal dress
Noticed the procession, noticed the bagpipe, drums, horns, noticed high silk head crowns and saffron robes, noticed the three piece suits,
I noticed the palanquin, an umbrella, the stupa painted with jewels the Colours of the four directions
Amber for generosity, green for karmic works, I noticed the white for Buddha, red for the heart
Thirteen worlds on the stupa hat, noticed the bell handle and umbrella, the empty head of the white cement bell Noticed the corpse to be set in the head of the bell
Noticed the monks chanting, horn plaint in our ears, smoke rising from astep the firebrick empty bells
Noticed the crowds quiet, noticed the Chilean poet, noticed a rainbow,
I noticed the guru was dead,
I noticed his teacher bare breasted watching the corpse burn in the stupa,
Noticed morning students sad cross legged before their books, chanting devotional mantras, Gesturing mysterious fingers, bells and brass thunderbolts in their hands,
I noticed flames rising above flags and wires and umbrellas and painted orange poles,
I noticed, I noticed the sky, noticed the sun, a rainbow around the sun, light misty clouds drifting over the sun
I noticed my own heart beating, breath passing through my nostrils
My feet walking, eyes seeing,
Ive noticed smoke above the corpse, Ive noticed fired monuments
I noticed the path downhill, Ive noticed the crowd moving toward the buses
I noticed food, lettuce salad, I noticed the teacher was absent,
I noticed my friends, Ive noticed our car, Ive noticed the blue Volvo,
Ive noticed a young boy hold my hand
Our key in the motel door, I noticed a dark room, I noticed a dream
And forgot, noticed oranges lemons and caviar at breakfast,
I noticed the highway, sleepiness, homework thoughts, the boys nippled chest in the breeze
As the car rolled down hillsides past green woods to the water.
I noticed the houses, balconies overlooking a misted horizon, shore & old worn rocks in the sand
I noticed the sea, I noticed the music I wanted to dance.