Allen Ginsberg

The poet laureate of the Beat Generation, Allen Ginsberg was born June 3, 1926, in Newark, New Jersey. He was educated at Columbia University and was a longtime resident of New York City's East Village neighborhood.

 Ginsberg and the other "beat" writers are credited with starting a genre of American prose and poetry in the late 1940s that celebrated free-wheeling Bohemians skeptical of moral codes and political power.

Ginsberg along with writers such as Jack Kerouac, Gregory Corso, William Burroughs, Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Lucien Carr came to embody the anti-establishment, non-conformist literary movement that experimented heavily with hallucinogenic drugs.

 In 1956, Ginsberg published "Howl and Other Poems," a book of free verse considered the preeminent poetic work of the "beat" movement.

 "Howl" begins:

"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked."

Howl, overcame censorship trials to become one of the most widely read poems of the century, translated into more than twenty-two languages.

Ginsberg became a celebrant of the counterculture movement of the 1960s, a ubiquitous figure at poetry readings on college campuses, a critic of the war in Vietnam and an advocate for gay rights. He saw himself as a part of the prophetic tradition in poetry begun by William Blake and continued by Walt Whitman.

In the 1960s and '70s, Ginsberg studied under gurus and Zen masters. He went on to co-found and direct the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at the Naropa Institute in Colorado. He taught English at Brooklyn College and has written more than 40 collections of poetry. His book "Fall of America" won the National Book Award in 1972.

Ginsberg died April 7, 1997, of a heart attack related to terminal liver cancer. He was 70. Ginsberg died in his apartment surrounded by about 40 family members and friends.

The haiku and drawing, below, were written and sketched by Allen Ginsberg.

Ginsberg with, in descending order,
Gregory Corso, Bob Dylan and Peter Orlovsky

The Song

The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction
weight

the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.

Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human--
looks out of the heart
burning with purity--
for the burden of life
is love,

but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.

No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love--

be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
--cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:

the weight is too heavy
--must give
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude

in all the excellence
of its excess.
The warm bodies
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,

the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye--

yes, yes,
that's what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.