Be Music, Night

Ken Patchen is my favorite poet. He died in 1972. I discovered him in the 70s and felt like I’d finally found my brother.

For some reason, he’s been on my mind a lot lately.

Here’s an excerpt from Sleepers Awake.

You want form, do you? I’ll give you form. I’ll make you wish for something nice and cozy — Something all chewed and digested for you — Look the thing’s worn out — It don’t work no more. If it ain’t in a pretty package, you don’t want it — Because it ain’t art. Because the book critic of the New Porker might now want to see a bit more respect for tradition hrrum, hum. I got my money on nobody. Tolstoy was right about all these people.

A tree near a lake.

Red deer.

Greatness and Truth can never be in danger from these murdering wretches.

To perform one’s duty, be it now, be it clean, be it done with humility . . .

A man is a sacred thing.

Any action or thought which injures the human imagination is evil.

The artist — they hate the artist. Mediocrity and servility are what they want. To get to the point — hell with all these bastards. I tell you it’s got to open up . . . hit the flow . . . Humble, I’m humble before the sacred mystery of life and the

–Let me say

For more information, check out this link.

Cross Posted at my law blog and at Firedoglake/MyFDL and the Smirking Chimp.

Explore posts in the same categories: Kenneth Patchen, Poetry

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2 Comments on “Be Music, Night”

  1. ed nelson Says:

    Thankyou Fred and wife for the good work you do. I like the poetry of that guy too , not too bad, poets is good stuff… HEhehEh (that is suposed to be… a BeevisButthead laugh,,, hehe ah hehe,,,

  2. ed nelson Says:

    Let me say this Proff , I am not anybody that ever got into a colleege, and so… I dont know about the wonderfull things that you get when you get to have a … collidge eucatchion…. Cause I ain’t got one a dem thangs…Hee he he he… ah he

    Well it is supposed to be funny, not mocking I am getting tired of all this serious shit… we need funny stuff we need to laugh, in our last days on a planet that is destined for obliveon, thanks to our bastards. (Bastards, means the mfrs that have the power. ) though we really could call that in, as you would know, somebody like you would know, it might be a kind of … sorry I am all out for a minute, so I will sign off at this time… I will be back!

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