All My Doors Are Open — Image by kenne
Where you stand
Matters where you sit.
Archive for the ‘Jack Kerouac’ Tag
Begin With The Glass All Empty Leave a comment
The Woods Do That To You . . . 1 comment
Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
“I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all.
The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost,
like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream,
like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water,
most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or
past manhood and all the living and the dying and the
heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds
as they pass overhead seem to testify
(by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling.”
–Jack Kerouac
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On The Road — Charleston Sunset Leave a comment
Charleston Sunset (August 12, 2021) — Image by kenne
“Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.”
― On the Road
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The Wind Blows Where It Will/Pull My Daisy/All My Doors Are Open Leave a comment
Source: Agave: A Celebration of Tequila in story, song, poetry, essay and graphic art — edited by Ashley and Nathan Brown
Agave Art Image by kenne (08/26/13)
The Steven Schroeder poem’s title, all my doors are open, is a line in Pull My Daisy by Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and Neal Cassady.
Note: It was written in the late 1940s in a similar way to the Surrealist “exquisite corpse” game, with one person writing the first line,
the other writing the second, and so on sequentially, with each person only being shown the line before.
PULL MY DAISY
Pull my daisy
tip my cup
all my doors are open
Cut my thoughts
for coconuts
all my eggs are broken
Jack my Arden
gate my shades
woe my road is spoken
Silk my garden
rose my days
now my prayers awaken
Bone my shadow
dove my dream
start my halo bleeding
Milk my mind &
make me cream
drink me when you’re ready
Hop my heart on
harp my height
seraphs hold me steady
Hip my angel
hype my light
lay it on the needy
Heal the raindrop
sow the eye
bust my dust again
Woe the worm
work the wise
dig my spade the same
Stop the hoax
what’s the hex
where’s the wake
how’s the hicks
take my golden beam
Rob my locker
lick my rocks
leap my cock in school
Rack my lacks
lark my looks
jump right up my hole
Whore my door
beat my boor
eat my snake of fool
Craze my hair
bare my poor
asshole shorn of wool
say my oops
ope my shell
Bite my naked nut
Roll my bones
ring my bell
call my worm to sup
Pope my parts
pop my pot
raise my daisy up
Poke my papa
pit my plum
let my gap be shut
— Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, Neal Cassady
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“There Is Another America . . .” 1 comment
“Primitive America” — Image by kenne
There was another America out there that remained unsung;
a rawer, more primitive America, where the spirit had not
been tamed by the restless machine of modern materialism.
— Jack Kerouac
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“The Americans” — Images With An Impact 5 comments
“Funeral — St. Helena, South Carolina” (1955), from Robert Frank’s book The Americans — Source: The New York Times
Rodeo — New York City, 1954 (from The Americans) — Robert Frank
I love photography, therefore I read about photography and photographers. One photographer that many feel changed the world of photography is Robert Frank. The book that had this kind of impact on photography was The Americans. Published in 1959, the book of photos taken from trips across America in the mid-fifties.
Not highly thought of in the beginning, because they were not the idyllic images Americans were used to seeing in popular magazines — Popular Photography magazine derided Mr. Frank’s black-and-white pictures of isolated individuals, teenage couples and groups at funerals for their “meaningless blur, grain, muddy exposures, drunken horizons and general sloppiness” (NY Times), but in the sixties his photos began to influence other photographers to take socially conscious material.
Over fifty years later the images in The Americans remain very topical. “I’m very proud of this book because I followed my intuition,” Frank said in an interview for a New York Times article (December 12, 2008) on a comprehensive publication, “Looking In: Robert Frank’s ‘The Americans,’ ” that was to go with a major exhibition in Washington at the National Gallery of Art in January, 2009.
“It’s tempting to draw associations between Mr. Frank’s trips and Jack Kerouac’s novel “On the Road,” another cultural artifact from the period, which came out two years before “The Americans.” Kerouac wrote the introduction to “The Americans,” but the two men did not meet until after Mr. Frank’s journey.
Still, Mr. Frank’s picture of a man at the wheel taken from the passenger seat of the car, “U.S. 91, Leaving Blackfoot, Idaho,” might well double for a portrait of the characters in “On the Road.” He was quick, however, to dismiss that association, remembering the men simply as “hitchhikers I picked up,” adding, “We were going to Butte, I think.” (Snapshots from the American Road, by Philip Gefter, NY Times)
kenne
Source: juicycanvas.com
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Mount Lemmon Arizona Fleabane Wildflowers — “Pull My Daisy” 1 comment
Arizona Fleabane Wildflowers — Image by kenne
PULL MY DAISY (III)
by Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, Neal Cassady
Pull my daisy
Tip my cup
Cut my thoughts
for coconuts
Jack my Arden
Gate my shades
Silk my garden
Rose my days
Bone my shadow
Dove my dream
Milk my mind &
Make me cream
Hop my heart on
Harp my height
Hip my angel
Hype my light
Heal the raindrop
Sow the eye
Woe the worm
Work the wise
Stop the hoax
Where’s the wake
What’s the box
How’s the Hicks
Rob my locker
Lick my rocks
Rack my lacks
Lark my looks
Whore my door
Beat my beer
Craze my hair
Bare my poor
Say my oops
Ope my shell
Roll my bones
Ring my bell
Pope my parts
Pop my pet
Poke my pap
Pit my plum
- Mount Lemmon in full bloom thanks to monsoon (azstarnet.com)
- The Beat Generation Gets Deadly Serious in the KILL YOUR DARLINGS Trailer (nerdist.com)
