Allen Ginsberg's LSD poem to William Buckley
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- čas přidán 5. 09. 2024
- Feeling the ripeness of the moment, Allen Ginsberg requests his host William F. Buckley, Jr on Firing Line to allow him to read a poem. When Bill acquiesces, Ginsberg recites 'Wales Visitation' - a free verse composition he penned under the influence of LSD in Wales, UK
Remarkably, it seems that Ginsberg didn't even need to read it, he basically recited it all from memory. His voice and his enthusiasm is wonderful, he seems cherubic.
an observation and thought I've had myself
@tomosborne This is one of the best things I've ever heard.... and every-time I hear it again, I am always mesmerized. Agree with you. It's so organic to him that he recited it.
Based on his facial expressions, once Buckley got past the first initial eye-rolling, he was REALLY listening and was quite effected. The way Ginsberg handled this is instructive to all -- just keep going and don't let others rattle you. Be yourself. Be true and express. What a wonderful clip and a terrific poem about Earth-based spirituality!
*Affected
@Kosmos de Kosmopoliet this guy here is awfully jealous
@Kosmos de Kosmopoliet Says the guy who writes like my left foot.
It shows the greatness of his mind, and his compassion. The things he’s seen, and trying to communicate
You can hear it in Buckleys voice at the end, he was moved
The enjoyment he gets from reciting and recalling this is exciting.
I love how Buckley and Ginsberg both acknowledge that it is okay for them to interrupt the poem, but they do it once, and then seem to realize that they are interrupting a very real moment. They never do it again and they never shake him from his intensity. Regardless what you think of Ginsberg, imagine being Buckley in that moment, having someone looking you in the face and saying those words. Phew! Buckley was lucky.
William Buckley may or may have not dug Allen's poem but I will say this--William F. Buckley was the last true Conservative Gentleman who brought a level playing field for discussion no matter if he agreed with your politics or not. He was an honest broker, a nearly extinct species. And he was incurably intelligent... and I am as liberal as they come. Allen respected him too.
1060michaelg yeah completely agree with you mate, if you haven't you should watch the Noam Chomsky interview. I think in this day and age the left and the right won't ever set foot in a room together without disrespectfully insulting one another. I for one oppose most Buckley's views but respect the man's intelligence and his character
1060michaelg He called Gore Vidal a 'queer', and threatened to 'sock him in his goddamn face'.
really I missed that, don't really know Gore Vidal, none the less it is still a horrid thing to say
plate man Hey plate man. I must confess to being mystified by your comment-- what is the horrid thing that was said?
1060michaelg Wow look at you, homophobic and pro-violence, your parents must be proud!
This is easily one of my favorite Ginsberg poems and i've never done LSD.
Lsd is easily one of my favorite drugs, and ive never recited poetry
It is easy to imagine creating a poetic masterpiece on lsd but I can't believe I would find any cogent scribbles on my paper after I came down.
This poem is a pretty good substitute for the experience
I love watching Ginsberg read his work. He's so passionate. He's exactly what we all should be. He makes that remark before reading and then at :47 he just starts right into it and doesn't even think about looking back. Allen Ginsberg is my hero.
As a Welsh man who lives not far from Tintern Abbey I am amazed. I am a recent Ginsberg fan (through B Dylan) and this makes me love his work even more. thanks for the share.
I know how you feel. I isaw myself stood at the devils pulpit hearing this as a surmon while looking over Tintern Abbey! It's incrediable when connections like this are made :)
Carl Solomon, I'm with you in the comment section
I attended a reading by Allen at Hobart College and he read this poem saying it had just been written and had not been published yet. About 1968 if I remember right.
That’s everything. I’m delighted that you were there!
Lucky
Ginsberg was such a beautiful person. A child eternal.
Dolf P He wasn't, he supported NAMBLA as a freedom of speech issue. I think he's a terrible writer, and his pro-NAMBLA stance made him a scumbag, but he wasn't a pedophile.
It speaks deeply to the triumph of the human spirit - and to the deep integrity, despite all his confused nonsense, of Buckley - that both men could come together in this gorgeous moment of celebrating the beauty of creation.
We are, indeed, all one.
We are witnessing William Buckley's increasing desire to try some LSD 😂
Ginsberg was a cool guy. I once heard an anecdote about him. If he was on stage reading poetry and people would start to groan or boo, he'd start taking off his cloths and yell "The poet stands naked before the world!" of course shutting up anyone who dares to boo after that. I don't know exactly what those words mean but they sure sound nice.
This is so nice. The exuberance, and even Buckley listening nicely to him....
Also I like the other video, showing the start of this interview, but unable to comment on the page: there Buckley starts out so barbed and pointy, being critical before Ginsberg even speaks, but then when the poet starts to talk, there is such gentleness and honesty in his voice, it is like Buckley is taken aback and eventually begins to be brought on side....
Just how I saw it.
Define "barbed and pointy." Can you define it?
Examine what you mean more specifically.
Do you mean that he is in opposition to Ginsburg, not completely at agreement with him?
Ginsburg seemed frustrated with Buckley. Why is it "barbed and pointy" when Buckley disagrees, but not when Ginsburg disagrees? Am I being "barbed and pointy"?
This makes me cry every time I watch it. What a beautiful experience he must’ve had.
Sheer terror in Buckley's eyes is why I'm here
sensory overload with a heaping of cosmic relevance, but never quite understandable by sober minds. Just like an intense acid trip.
I was referring to the poem itself.
Well put..very well put
Him reading this poem causes my eyes to moisten, tucked under a blanket of glossy tears.
he should have read his little boy Nambla poems next
Allen Ginsberg is such tremendous poet , I have read his masterpiece Howl . Amazing!
The way he read this, with the physical gestures was the absolute best way he could have read this. It really helped you visualize this.
"I like that." -- William F. Buckley
*"I kinda like that." --William F. Buckley
The point is that we are all one, experiencing life together
I miss Buckley, nobody on TV right now to deliver what he did.
It's the LSD talking . . . wonderful word mechanics . . . and Buckley appreciated its complexity.
Wow. Just wow. And that folks is just how powerful LSD can be.
@Samsara or a least decriminalized
The days when America's politicians could show respect to our leading poets, and the poets talked to the politicians like they were human beings too.
This poem is kind of like a fart cast in a crowded room. No one can tell where it came from, but we all sense its power...
Gee Squared this was hilarious but Scarily true
I kinda like that. What Lions of culture these two are!
Thank you so much for posting this.
In one word: BRILLIANT!
By the way, I watched this first time while visiting Wales in a museum and it's one of the best things that I came across in my whole life...
i love the look on williams face while allen is reading his poem :P
"O mother no harm on thy body!
Stare close, no imperfection in the grass!"
I like that part, when he gets all jovial.
Watching this I suddenly thought of the meeting between Spinoza and Liebnitz. The inspired spiritual Jew argues with the logical linear German who wants to understand God and yet can only dimly grasp it . Perfect. Beautiful!
+MegaRaven100 Painful.
Ginsberg looks beautiful and radiant. The lighting helps.
BEAUTIFUL
I enjoy Buckley's condescending cordiality, especially when those who are its targets are impervious to it. (I'm not saying "unaware of it") Buckley didn't put anyone "in his place" here; they were both "in their places". This was a fascinating encounter.... Buckley and Ginsberg both strove to "know their enemies", and each won by not fighting. But what must they have said of each other in private!!! Still, whenever hatred is supplanted and an effort is made to "come to meet", progress is made.
Imagine if you could still see stuff like this on TV
Gore Vidal's comment about Ginsberg being "at heart, an advertising executive" always cracks me up.
it is the first poem that ive heared from him , it was quite good and i liked it...
Tobias!? Is that you?
Anytime99 he told y'all that he was a good actor
Omg I thought he looked familiar
I wouldn't think that this was such an old video. It feels so familiar.
Buckley was a prig, but, I must say, television like this wouldn't even be remotely possible today. What a shame.
this professor at Brooklyn college asked me in the SUBO building in 1991,i was 21 yo and he whispered in my ear about angels dancing on a pin... it has dawned on me till this day
haa ha ha now i remember the poetry from my youth. thank you for my love for poetry still :)
Love it.
I heard Allen, in 1968 or 1969, read this poem at Hobart College in Geneva NY.
It had not been published yet.
He also read 'Howl' and 'Wichita Vortex Sutra.'
White fog lifting & falling on mountain-brow
Trees moving in rivers of wind
The clouds arise
as on a wave, gigantic eddy lifting mist
above teeming ferns exquisitely swayed
along a green crag
glimpsed thru mullioned glass in valley raine-
Bardic, O Self, Visitacione, tell naught
but what seen by one man in a vale in Albion,
of the folk, whose physical sciences end in Ecology,
the wisdom of earthly relations,
of mouths & eyes interknit ten centuries visible
orchards of mind language manifest human,
of the satanic thistle that raises its horned symmetry
flowering above sister grass-daisies’ pink tiny
bloomlets angelic as lightbulbs-
Remember 160 miles from London’s symmetrical thorned tower
& network of TV pictures flashing bearded your Self
the lambs on the tree-nooked hillside this day bleating
heard in Blake’s old ear, & the silent thought of Wordsworth in eld Stillness
clouds passing through skeleton arches of Tintern Abbey-
Bard Nameless as the Vast, babble to Vastness!
All the Valley quivered, one extended motion, wind
undulating on mossy hills
a giant wash that sank white fog delicately down red runnels
on the mountainside
whose leaf-branch tendrils moved asway
in granitic undertow down-
and lifted the floating Nebulous upward, and lifted the arms of the trees
and lifted the grasses an instant in balance
and lifted the lambs to hold still
and lifted the green of the hill, in one solemn wave
A solid mass of Heaven, mist-infused, ebbs thru the vale,
a wavelet of Immensity, lapping gigantic through Llanthony Valley,
the length of all England, valley upon valley under Heaven’s ocean
tonned with cloud-hang,
-Heaven balanced on a grassblade.
Roar of the mountain wind slow, sigh of the body,
One Being on the mountainside stirring gently
Exquisite scales trembling everywhere in balance,
one motion thru the cloudy sky-floor shifting on the million feet of daisies,
one Majesty the motion that stirred wet grass quivering
to the farthest tendril of white fog poured down
through shivering flowers on the mountain’s head-
No imperfection in the budded mountain,
Valleys breathe, heaven and earth move together,
daisies push inches of yellow air, vegetables tremble,
grass shimmers green
sheep speckle the mountainside, revolving their jaws with empty eyes,
horses dance in the warm rain,
tree-lined canals network live farmland,
blueberries fringe stone walls on hawthorn’d hills,
pheasants croak on meadows haired with fern-
Out, out on the hillside, into the ocean sound, into delicate gusts of wet air,
Fall on the ground, O great Wetness, O Mother, No harm on your body!
Stare close, no imperfection in the grass,
each flower Buddha-eye, repeating the story,
myriad-formed-
Kneel before the foxglove raising green buds, mauve bells dropped
doubled down the stem trembling antennae,
& look in the eyes of the branded lambs that stare
breathing stockstill under dripping hawthorn-
I lay down mixing my beard with the wet hair of the mountainside,
smelling the brown vagina-moist ground, harmless,
tasting the violet thistle-hair, sweetness-
One being so balanced, so vast, that its softest breath
moves every floweret in the stillness on the valley floor,
trembles lamb-hair hung gossamer rain-beaded in the grass,
lifts trees on their roots, birds in the great draught
hiding their strength in the rain, bearing same weight,
Groan thru breast and neck, a great Oh! to earth heart
Calling our Presence together
The great secret is no secret
Senses fit the winds,
Visible is visible,
rain-mist curtains wave through the bearded vale,
gray atoms wet the wind’s kabbala
Crosslegged on a rock in dusk rain,
rubber booted in soft grass, mind moveless,
breath trembles in white daisies by the roadside,
Heaven breath and my own symmetric
Airs wavering thru antlered green fern
drawn in my navel, same breath as breathes thru Capel-Y-Ffn,
Sounds of Aleph and Aum
through forests of gristle,
my skull and Lord Hereford’s Knob equal,
All Albion one.
What did I notice? Particulars! The
vision of the great One is myriad-
smoke curls upward from ashtray,
house fire burned low,
The night, still wet & moody black heaven
starless
upward in motion with wet wind.
Akshat Kumar thanks!
is this in any of his poetry books or such???
This poem is in the book Planet News
Thank you
Epic!
I wish I was there at that exactly time...
amazing, amazing poetry
How well Ginsberg read this poem, he seemed to really be taken back to the moment durring this reading.
he must have been dosed pretty heavy. his thought pattern is all over the place and hes making relations that would make sense to any one spun off their rocker at 500 plus mics. back then who really knows how much they were taking. still a very transcending poem very much inspired by a higher power/being and connecting nature and life as one.
This is a perfect description of what it's like to be on LSD. Such a beautiful poem and fantastic attempt to put cosmic realisation down onto paper.
Some damn good ‘cid.
The last 30 seconds were my favorite
I've tried writing on LSD before, it's difficult during the main effect but during the fading out I can remember the subject for long enough to give poems or prose some sort of recognisable structure. Looking back it's possible to identify meanings in passages that seemed to flow from me without much thought, rather straight from the subconscious. Also LSD I've found facilitates a more intuitive sense of timing - rhythm and meter - which allows poetry - while seemingly possessing not much in the way of meaning - and also the playing of music a more natural flow.
This brings back memories to buckley
Why wouldn't we have this sort of thing on TV today?
wow - impeccable!
Great poem beautifully read.
thanks for posting this.
David Cross plays Allen Ginsberg in I'm Not There. Good movie.
Nobody like those guys anymore, Ginsberg, Burroughs, and Kerouac. Pioneers, and innovators of the 60's, 70's, 80's, and finally the 90's generation of musical inspiration, and all forms of artistic talent. What we see now, is inspired by whom? What came after these pioneers? No one, why? They all died at 27. Or died too young to stretch out they're charisma.
great response!!!
if anyone is wondering this poem is in (the beat book)writings of the beat generation edited by Waldman
Re-visiting this poetic gem of Ginsberg, one has to wonder if he had any mushroom poems, and if so, which ones are they?
He's a very good Ginsberg. Franco captures his mannerisms well, and also looks a lot like Ginsberg in his younger days
He played Ginsberg in "I'm Not There"
Haha This is some trippy poetry. Written by Allen Ginsberg while tripping on LSD
I think Allen is still coming down here.
I still haven't seen Howl. Been thinking about downloading it.
1:47 Wonderful set of teeth. Blooming. Dancing. Eternal sunshine emitting from within. The bottom teeth. Concealed beneath skin like pearls in oyster. Hidden gems yet to be revealed. Reveal them! Though one cannot, for they do not exist.
I didn't know that. Thank you.
I was just thinking that!
I truly hope that his brain is being studied by science. I don't think anyone can deny that he had a mind unlike no other. It would be interesting to learn more.
You're right. I have no idea why I didn't realize that before. I suppose I need a lot more practice.
+Danny Bittman Pot & LSD & write like Ginsberg, Benzedrine & whiskey & write like Kerouac, Heroin & homicide & write like Burroughs, mix it all up & write like S Thompson.
Sometimes during this the look on Buckley's face is of a man so inextricably tethered to reality. I guess it takes all kinds.
Amazingly, their voices and pronunciation are quite similar.
Whoa then Wow
I like that
He reads his poem like biggie raps his...
Lemuel Seale poem...
I'll take Buckley and "Firing Line" over today's demagoging cable news, anyday.
really we look at them as if they were bad yet a least they were true
@@leadbellymidnightangel buckley would bring anybody on and allow them to speak their peace. He might shred it to dust afterwards, but thats what he did. He was a debater. A "Master"deBater
I love Allen's poetry, but, I have to say, everything that he described in his "LSD poetry" is just basically what anyone could have observed, and they could have expressed it with just the right vocabulary.
That's the point. It's about capturing the moment and experience as accurately and truthfully as possible. It's the technique he picked up from William Carlos Williams, picking out the most striking and impacting features of an instant and solidifying them forever in a poem. Anyone can be a poet if they follow this principle and, as you say, have the vocabulary to match.
A man before his tkme
And he only visited Wales. I live there.
a genius
I would be lying if I said I completely understand the poem, (it has something to do with oneness with nature, I assume) but it is a beautiful composition.
At 1:30, did he say "internet"?
Someone should rap that...
You're right. David could play Ginsberg in a biopic.
today, they would cut to commercial almost immediately
he isn't very good on acid, "i like that" said william. what he really meant was only you and someone as high as you can feel what that poem expresses.
"I kinda like that." LOL
So sad that this wave of mind expansion drugs died out when the sixties came to an end...
It's not totally over.
It most certainly isn't over but our voices are no longer paid attention to
I will say in all fairness LSD opened his mind so that he was able to write in a stream-of-consciousness that included many poetic phrases which were infused with references to gods and literature. I would like to get a computer to put in many a thousand words and phrases and that's what you would come out with. Some of it beautiful, but not a lot of meaning. Intelligence and taste can produce art, with or without meaning.
+Jack Hopkins libraryofbabel.info/
never underestimate the yellow fingered madness of an lsd genius...
For those who are specifically technologists.
He described all my acid trips and lucid day&night dreaming in one beautiful literary image. Does anyone see how pataphysics parallels dreamstate poetry?
Ginsberg post influence of Allen West still holding treasured the English poet laureates(Blake and Wordsworth, the Sublime poets) and extolling Gia earth and Moksha(liberation of the Soul in Hindu) to Nirvana( Buddhist state of NON-being). beautiful logos(lyrics) and cadence, however, the essence forces me to wonder if post West, he had neglected the essence of BEAT art(BEATITUDES enumerated on a mountain by a 30 year-old Jewish carpenter) which by the way were not as West suggested analogous to a Japanese Koan!
Sitting presumptuously across from flashing-eyed conservatism
On a lighted stage, no less
With cameras whirring, etching my likeness onto tapes to be broadcast into straight-laced curtain homes
Never fear, for confidence leads me to the edge
Of the stage and of the mind
At the edge, the end of preconceived boundaries
Bridges begin
Each step a word on the rickety-rackety bridge
That spans the gulf society hath dug between this Boston aristocrat and me
And he kinda likes that, and so do I