Jean-Louis Lebris de Kerouac

JACK   Ti-Jean

giovane scrittore si firmava john  kerouac


in fede....Jack Kerouac









We should be wondering tonight,  ' Is there a world ? '      But I could go and talk on 5, 10, 20 minutes about is there a world, because there is really no world cause sometimes I’m walkin’ on the ground and I see right through the ground.  And there is no world. And you’ll find out.

is there a beat generation ? - forum at hunter college - new york - 8 november 1958

Tangier 1957
.   War, he thought .    Our nation has plunged it's mighty sinews into war  .
.   My generation,  he whispered is making the sacrifice .   It is suffering .   Only through suffering does one learn love and fulfillment .    I believe I am correct in saying so .    My generation,  my world is not lost .
my generation my world 1943  -   fb/beatpoemsontheroad
To hell with all the doubters & bastards that lurk inside my soul
the unknown kerouac - rare, unpublished & Nnewly translated writings -
Then we sailed down into the Irish Sea, laid anchor off Belfast, waited there for some British convoy boats and crossed the Irish Sea that afternoon and night straight for Liverpool. 1943 .  
The year the Beatles were born there, ha ha ha .

I realized either I was crazy or the world was crazy, and I picked on the world. And of course I was right .
vanity of duluoz : an adventurous education 1935-46   -   fb/jk
My eyes were glued on life and they were full of tears
i miei occhi erano incollati sulla vita. Ed erano pieni di lacrime
The romantics have more on the ball than the others 
Those who laugh at the romantics are just jealous bank clerks
and unsuccessful writers who become critics
A romantic is a realist who digs in and lives so that he can learn more about everything
Who really knows more about realism than the romantic  ?
Inward success he desired and  - as youth will -  he saw no reason for admitting that
inward success could only be won at the expense of outward success
Both were within reach, both were available, as far as he could see 
Why not    ?
the haunted life and other writings
A poet is a blind optimist
The world is against him for many reasons .   But the poet persists   
He believes that he is on the right track, no matter what any of his fellow men say   
In his eternal search for truth, the poet is alone. He tries to be timeless in a society built on time 
     if tears shall wash away the cruelty of our years, and sow the seeds of pity in our black and broken hearts, remind us that life is brief and lovely, not long and foolish, that it is strange and beautiful, yea as a dream, then so let it be, if it must be tears, if tears alone may serve ...
Jack Kerouac is a little man-creature,   standing so high and weighing just about enough to crack some thin ice .  He’s  a  hell  of a punk, not because he wants to devote his life to talking to his fellow men and telling them some helpful  things,  but because he insists on being an unusual man-creature, rather than a mediocre man-creature .
A novel is a story of a man’s development, I think
 Development is the soul of Fate .    My first novel will be a novel  
Everything develops, and then dies .  That’s a novel .   This novel is now ended
The page is long,  blank,  and full of truth
When I am through with it, it shall probably be long,  full,  and empty with words
atop an underwood : early stories and other writings - fb/jk
The beauty of things must be that they end
I'll go to the south of Sicily in the winter and paint memories of Arles - I'll buy a piano and Mozart me that - I'll write long sad tales about people in the legend of my life - This part is my part of the movie, let's hear yours
love is a completely endless thing, it’s the April row when feelers reach for everything

tristessa <
Così io separo le mie frasi come se fossero respiri diversi della mente
paris review - interview  1968
... that's how i therefore separate my sentences, as breath separations of the mind

grandi bevute & feste
con piano - natale
venuto e andato

big drinkling & piano
parties - christmas
come and gone

A scene should be selected by the writer for haunted-ness-of-mind interest .   If you're not haunted by something, as by a dream, a vision, or a memory, which are involuntary, you're not interested or even involved .


I must believe in the lives of people & the history of their reality  -  I must become a historian - observe their history of society & write histories of the world in wild hallucinated places I have seen, written for angels not the the publishers & readers -  a complete history of my complete inner life  .
book of sketches 1952-57

being crazy is
the least of my worries

essere pazzo è
la minore delle mie preoccupazion


Ce n'è ancora, di strada
big sur



The sight of the canyon down there as we
renegotiated the mountain road made me bite
my lip with marvel and sadness



An awful realization that I have been fooling myself all my life thinking there was a next thing to do to keep the show going and actually I'm just a sick clown and so is everybody else .


It’ll take you eternities to get rid of me,’ she adds sadly, which makes me jealous, I want her to say I’ll never get rid of her – I wanta be chased till eternity till I catch her .


It always makes me proud to love the world somehow- hate's so easy compared  .

Mi rende sempre orgoglioso amare il mondo in qualche modo - è così facile in confronto .


It’s just amazing how inside our own souls we can lift out so much strength I think it would be enough strength to move mountains at that, to lift our boots up again and go clomping along happy out of nothing but the good source power in our bones .


take it easy, everything’s okay, don’t take things too serious, it’s bad enough as it is without you going the deep end over imaginary conceptions .




I feel guilty for being a member
of the human race

big sur  1962



- Se non mi do una mossa subito

sono spacciato -
mi dico, spacciato come

negli ultimi tre anni

di disperazione ubriaca

una disperazione fisica

e spirituale e metafisica

che non si può imparare a scuola

per quanti libri si leggano

sull'esistenzialismo o sul pessimismo
big sur - pag 8 - books/google


Something good will come out of all things yet -  And it will be golden and eternal just like that - There's no need to say another word  .


And it’s finally only in the woods you get that nostalgia for   ' cities ' at last, you dream of long gray journeys to cities where soft evenings'll unfold like Paris but never seeing how sickening it will be because of the primordial innocence of health and stillness in the wilds  -  so I tell myself  ' Be Wise '  .


You dont have to torture your consciousness with endless thinking .


Se non scrivo quello che vedo effettivamente accadere su questo globo infelice racchiuso nei contorni del mio teschio penserò che il povero Dio mi abbia mandato sulla terra per niente  .



il mare non parlava per frasi ma per versi
big sur


Si può sempre andare oltre


– non si finisce mai


It's okay, girl, we'll make it till the sun goes down forever
And until then what you got to lose but the losing  ?
We're fallen angels who didn't believe that
nothing means nothing
None of this means anything
for krissakes speak up & be true
or shut up & go to bed
And if you dont like the tone of my poems
You can go jump in the lake

book of blues


poveri cuori umani che battono dappertutto



Ho un sacco di soldi e i soldi sono solo soldi  .


I started to cry .    And I looked up and saw the bleak pines by the bleak mills of Roanoke Rapids with one final despair, like the despair of a man who has nothing left to do but leave the earth forever .


And Raphael’s grimace meaks - sic -  me a leak-tear right quick, I see it,  I suffer,  we all suffer,  people die in your arms,  it’s too much to bear yet you’ve got to go on as though nothing was happening,  right ?  right, readers ?


The only truth is music   ...   Because all these serious faces’ll drive you mad, the only meaning is without meaning   -   Music blends with the heartbeat universe and we forget the brain beat   .


Everything is going to the beat - It's the beat generation, it be-at, it's the beat to keep, it's the beat of the heart, it's being beat and down in the world and like oldtime lowdown and like in ancient civilizations the slave boatmen rowing galleys to a beat and servants spinning pottery to a beat ...

He has a face that looks like everybody  you've  ever known and seen on the street in your generation,  a sweet face  - Hard to describe  -   sad eyes, cruel lips, expectant gleam, swaying to the beat, tall, MAJESTICAL .


Giornate di tanto tempo fa quando avrei potuto semplicemente salire al piano di sopra e baciare mia madre o mio padre e dire  ' Mi piacete perché un giorno sarò un vecchio vagabondo nella desolazione e sarò solo e triste ' .


Hold together, Jack, pass through everything, everything is one dream, one appearance, one flash, one sad eye, one crystal lucid mystery, one word -  Hold still, man, regain your love of life and go down from this mountain and simply be-be-be the infinite fertilities of the one mind of infinity, make no comments, complaints, criticisms, appraisals, avowals, sayings, shooting starts of thought, just flow, flow, be you all, be you what it is, it is only what it always is -  Hope is a word like a snow-drift  - This is the Great Knowing, this is the Awakening, this is Voidness -  So shut up, live, travel, adventure, bless and dont be sorry -




Every night I still ask the Lord   ' Why ? '   and haven’t heard a decent answer yet .


My life is a vast and insane legend reaching everywhere without beginning or ending  .

I had a Chet Baker record on and we hoofed at each other in the room, tremendous, the perfect grace of his dancing, casual, like Joe Louis casually hoofing .
Black black black black bling bling bling bling black black black black bling bling bling bling black black black black bling bling bling
jk - desolation angels


Tieni duro Jack, passa attraverso tutte le cose, e tutte le cose sono un solo sogno, una sola immagine, un solo baleno, un solo occhio triste, un solo lucido mostro di cristallo, una sola parola - Tieniti forte, amico, ritrova il tuo amore per la vita e scendi giù da questa montagna e semplicemente sii - sii - sii le infinite fertilità dell'unica mente infinita, non formulare commenti, lagnanze, critiche, lodi, ammissioni massime, meteore di pensiero, semplicemente scorri, scorri, sii tutto, sii ciò che è, e solo quello che sempre è   .

angeli della desolazione - 1965 - libro I parte I - desolazione nella solitudine - trad. m.corona

Sono cambiato io e non il vuoto

e ho fatto tutto questo

e sono andato e venuto

e mi sono lamentato e ferito

e ho gioito e urlato

angeli di desolazione

Scoppieranno guerre per gli occhi delle donne


 We live to long - so long I will

so shut up, live, travel, adventure, bless

and don't be sorry

 angeli di desolazione

Ero una volta giovane e aggiornato e lucido e sapevo parlare di tutto con nervosa intelligenza e con chiarezza e senza far tanti retorici preamboli come faccio ora; in altre parole questa è la storia di uno sfiduciato che non è più padrone di sé e insieme la storia di un egomaniaco, per costituzione e non per facezia  -  questo tanto per cominciare dal principio con ordine ed enucleare la verità, perché è proprio questo che voglio fare.   -  Cominciò una calda notte d'estate, sì, con lei seduta su un parafango quando Julien Alexander che sarebbe... Ma cominciamo dalla storia dei sotterranei di San Francisco .
i sotterranei 1992

I have lots of things to teach you now, in case we ever meet, concerning the message that was transmitted to me under a pine tree in North Carolina on a cold winter moonlit night .   It said that Nothing Ever Happened, so don't worry .    It's all like a dream. Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don't know it because of our thinking-minds .   But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever .   
Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all. It is all one vast awakened thing.
I call it the golden eternity .   
It is perfect .     We were never really born, we will never really die .
It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It's a dream already ended. There's nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about .   I know this from staring at mountains months on end .  They never show any expression, they are like empty space. Do you think the emptiness of space will ever crumble away? Mountains will crumble, but the emptiness of space, which is the one universal essence of mind, the vast awakenerhood, empty and awake, will never crumble away because it was never born.
Geniuses can be scintillating and geniuses can be somber, but it's that inescapable sorrowful depth that shines through - originality  .

the portable JK

I’m not the smiling type
Always considered writing my duty on earth

Thinking of the stars night after night I begin to realize  ' The stars are words '  and all the innumerable worlds in the Milky Way are words, and so is this world too .    And I realize that no matter where I am, whether in a little room full of thought or in this endless universe of stars and mountains, it’s all in my mind  .  There’s no need for solitude .    So love life for what it is, and form no preconceptions whatever in your mind .
After all this kind of fanfare, and even more, I came to a point where I needed solitude and to just stop the machine of 'thinking' and 'enjoying' what they call 'living,' I just wanted to lie in the grass and look at the clouds ...
Everything is perfect on the street again, the world is permeated with roses of happiness all the time, but none of us know it .   The happiness consists in realizing that it is all a great strange dream .
... learn the secret of my human heart, give me the thing, give me your hand, take me to the emerald mountains beyond the city, take me to the safe place,  
 be kind,    be nice,    smile  -  I’m too tired now of everything else  -
Paris is a woman but London is an independent man puffing his pipe in a pub .
No man should go through life without once experiencing healthy,  even bored solitude in the wilderness,  finding himself depending solely on himself and thereby learning his true and hidden strength .    Learning for instance,  to eat when he’s hungry and sleep when he’s sleepy .

lonesome traveler

se Gesù sedesse alla mia scrivania questa notte, guardando fuori dalla finestra, tutta quella gente che ride felice per l’inizio delle vacanze estive, forse sorriderebbe e ringrazierebbe suo Padre.   Non lo so.    La gente deve 'vivere', eppure so che soltanto Gesù conosce la risposta definitiva .
come mai non hai mai scritto di Gesù? chiede Ted Berrigan  in un’intervista di un anno prima della sua morte. 
Io non avrei scritto nulla di Gesù? Non venirtene a casa mia a fare il pazzo bugiardo … e …
tutto ciò su cui scrivo è Gesù .
la civiltà cattolica - il dio di jk -  pag 126 - 20.1.2007



Just in my swim shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark, singing, swigging wine, spitting, jumping, running - that's the way to live .     

All alone and free in the soft sands of the beach by the sigh of the sea out there, with the Ma-Wink fallopian virgin warm stars reflecting on the outer channel fluid belly waters .   

And if your cans are redhot and you can't hold them in your hands, just use good old railroad gloves,  that's all  .

the dharma bums  .

You can't live in this world

but there's nowhere else to go


Ignorance is the absence of enlightenment


One man practicing kindness

in the wilderness is worth

all the temples this world pulls


I have the right ideas, but my words are too ...  complicated .   I need to simplify them, so that people won't get lost in the dark when they see and hear them .   I want them to shine like beacons of light in a world of overly complicated darkness .   
One day I will find the right words  and they will
be simple  .
the dharma bums  .

It was all completely serious
all completely hallucinated
all completely happy
The silence was an intense roar

the dharma bums
Meglio dormire libero
in un letto scomodo
che dormire prigioniero
in un letto comodo

Better to sleep in an uncomfortable bed free
than sleep in a comfortable bed unfree

i vagabondi del dharma - dharma bums
A real  h a i k u 's gotta be as simple as porridge and yet make you see the real thing, like the greatest haiku of them all probably is the one that goes 'The sparrow hops along the veranda, with wet feet .  By Shiki .    You see the wet footprints like a vision in your mind and yet in those few words you also see all the rain that's been falling that day and almost smell the wet pine needles   .
the  dharma bums
The world was upsidedown hanging in an ocean of endless space and here were all these people sitting in theatres watching movies .
Who knows, the world might wake up and burst out into a beautiful flower of Dharma everywhere  .
I have never met such weird yet serious and earnest people  .
The human bones are but vain lines dawdling - the whole universe a blank mold of stars  .
Don’t be a sucker all your life, dummy up, ya dope  .
i wish the whole world was dead serious about food instead of silly rockets and machines and explosives using everybody's food money to blow their heads off anyway  .
the dharma bums
Then I suddenly had the most tremendous feeling of the pitifulness of human beings, whatever they were, their faces, pained mouths, personalities, attempts to be gay, little petulances, feelings of loss, their dull and empty witticisms so soon forgotten :   Ah, for what ?    I knew that the sound of silence was everywhere and therefore everything everywhere was silence .    Suppose we suddenly wake up and see that what we thought to be this and that, ain't this and that at all? I staggered up the hill, greeted by birds, and looked at all the huddled sleeping figures on the floor. Who were all these strange ghosts rooted to the silly little adventure of earth with me  ? And who was I ?
the dharma bums  .
When you feel depressed and you wanta go here, wanta go there, remember Mind Essence; the world, like dreams, will never come true .   Operate on Intuition, Rest and Be Happy .    It's all in your head what happens so you might as well think happiness .
advice to lovers  -  don’t hang around with a woman and pretend to be indifferent  -  but assure every moment that you’re madly in love with her, then cut out   -   then she’ll KNOW you’re indifferent  .
My witness is the empty sky .   My reward is the perfect blue sky at dawn in the desert in a bird-resounding riverbottom grove  .

some of the dharma



vedo cio che le porte

- aperte o chiuse -

mi consentono di vedere

Gli uomini mortali non possono odiarsi

possono solo essere colpevoli

 di amare se stessi



sembra che io abbia una costituzione

che non regge l'alcol

e ancor di meno l'idiozia e l'incoerenza







happiness consists in realizing

it is all a great strange dream


Lowell continues to haunt me so

it’s a whole intact Shakespearean

universe in itself

book of dreams

I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life and not only life, but that great consciousness of life  .


Spero sia vero che un uomo può morire e non solo vivere negli altri,  ma dare loro vita e non solo vita,  ma anche quella grande coscienza della vita   .
journal entry  -  the unknown kerouac : scritti rari, inediti e appena tradotti - t.tietchen  - rare, unpublished & newly translated writings


I am French Canadian   born in New England
When I am angry   I often curse in French
When I dream   I often dream in French
When I cry   I always cry in French

the unknown kerouac: rare unpublished & Nnewly translated writings - fb/jk


on the road

the road is life


L'inizio del nostro viaggio fu misterioso e spruzzato di pioggia .   Si capiva che sarebbe stato un'unica grande saga di nebbia .   ' Iouuu ! ' strillò Dean .   ' Si parte ! ' . Si chinò sul volante e schiacciò l'acceleratore; era di nuovo nel suo elemento, si vedeva benissimo .

Eravamo tutti felici, ci rendevamo conto che ci stavamo lasciando alle spalle confusione e assurdità per compiere l'unica e nobile funzione che avevamo a quel tempo,   a n d a r e .


The bus roared on .   I was going home in October 

Everybody goes home in October


Some's bastards, some's ain't  -  That's the score


I hope you get where you're going, and be happy when you do it


You can't teach the old maestro a new tune


The road must eventually lead to the whole world


He knew the road would get more interesting, especially ahead, always ahead


Nothing behind me

everything ahead of me

as is ever so on the road


Soon it got dusk,  a grapy dusk     

a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields;   the sun the color of pressed grapes,  slashed with burgandy red,  the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries .


Oh, smell the people !

yelled Dean with his face out the window, sniffing.

Ah, God ! Life !


Emotionlessly she kissed me
in the vineyard and walked off down the row. We turned at a dozen paces, for love is a duel, and looked up at each other for the last time  .


Remember that I believe in you 

I’m infinitely sorry for the foolish grievance I held against you yesterday afternoon   .

Bitterness, recriminations, advice, morality, sadness

- everything was behind him, and ahead of him was the ragged and ecstatic joy of pure being .
amarezza, recriminazioni, consigli, moralità, tristezza - si era lasciato tutto alle spalle e davanti a lui c'era la gioia aspra ed estatica del puro essere .

Stavo meravigliosamente bene e il mondo intero mi si apriva davantiperchè non avevo sogni
I was having a wonderful time and the whole world opened up before me because I had no dreams
We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell
I guess-across the night
eravamo sul tetto d’america e tutto ciò che potevamo fare era urlare, immagino, attraverso la notte
I just won't sleep - I decided . There were so many other interesting things to do
All he needed was a wheel in his hand and four on the road
tutto quello di cui aveva bisogno era un volante fra le mani e quattro ruote su una strada

Nevertheless we understood each other on all levels of madness


Sure baby, mañana . It was always mañana
For the next few weeks that was all I heard - mañana a lovely word
and one that probably means heaven
There was no end to the American sadness and the American madness
Someday we'll all start laughing and roll on the ground
when we realize how funny it's been

SAL ...


sal, we gotta go and never stop

going 'till we get there

> sal paradise : pseudonimo di jk <

parte III - cap 10

Un dolore mi trafisse il cuore
come succedeva ogni volta che vedevo
una ragazza che mi piaceva
andarsene in direzione opposta alla mia
in questo mondo troppo grande ...
sulla strada



in a good home, in sane and sound living, in good food, good times, work, faith and hope . I have always believed in these things . It was with some amazement that I realized I was one of the few people in the world who really believed in these things without going around making a dull middle class philosophy out of it . I was suddenly left with nothing in my hands but a handful of crazy stars .
The mad road
lonely  leading around the bend into the openings of space towards the horizon Wasatch snows promised us in the vision of the West, spine heights at the world's end, coast of blue Pacific starry night - nobone halfbanana moons sloping in the tangled night sky, the torments of great formations in mist, the huddled invisible insect in the car racing onwards, illuminate. - The raw cut, the drag, the butte, the star, the draw, the sunflower in the grass - orangebutted west lands of Arcadia, forlorn sands of the isolate earth, dewy exposures to infinity in black space, home of the rattlesnake and the gopher the level of the world, low and flat : the charging restless mute unvoiced road keening in a seizure of tarpaulin power into the route .
No matter what you do it's bound to be a waste of time in the end so you might as well go mad .


For the first time in my life

the weather was not something

that touched me that caressed me

froze or sweated me but became me



And for just a moment I had reached the point of ecstasy
that I always wanted to reach, which was the complete step across chronological time into t imeless shadows, and wonderment in the bleakness of the mortal realm, and the sensation of death kicking at my heels to move on, with a phantom dogging its own heels, and myself hurrying to a plank where all the angels dove off and flew into the holy void of uncreated emptiness, the potent and inconceivable radiancies shining in bright Mind Essence, innumerable lotuslands falling open in the magic mothswarm of heaven .
I could hear an indescribable seething roar which wasn't in my ear but everywhere and had nothing to do with sounds .
I realized that I had died and been reborn numberless times but just didn't remember especially because the transitions from life to death and back to life are so ghostly easy, a magical action for naught, like falling asleep and waking up again a million times, the utter casualness and deep ignorance of it .
I realized it was only because of the stability of the intrinsic Mind that these ripples of birth and death took place, like the action of the wind on a sheet of pure, serene, mirror-like water .
I felt sweet, swinging bliss, like a big shot of heroin in the mainline vein; like a gulp of wine late in the afternoon and it makes you shudder; my feet tingled .
I thought I was going to die the very next moment .
But I didn't die ...
At lilac evening

I walked with every muscle aching among the lights of 27th and Welton in the Denver colored section, wishing I were a Negro, feeling that the best the white world had offered was not enough ecstasy for me, not enough life, joy, kicks, darkness, music, not enough night  .


about that when all the golden lands ahead of you and all kinds of unforeseen events wait lurking to surprise you and make you glad you're alive to see  ?

Boys and girls in America
have such a sad time together; sophistication demands that they submit to sex immediately without proper preliminary talk. Not courting talk - real straight talk about souls, for life is holy and every moment is precious .
when the sun goes down and I sit on the old broken-down Pier watching the long, long skies over New Jersey and sense all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the west coast, and all of that road going, all the people dreaming in the immensity of it, and in Iowa I know by now the children must be crying in the land where they let the children cry, and tonight the stars'll be out, and don't you know that God is Pooh Bear ? the evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens all rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think od Dean Moriarty, I even think of old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty .
What do you want out of life ? 
-  I asked, and I used to ask that all the time of girls  .
I don't know,  -  she said   - .    Just wait on tables and try to get alon .  -  She yawned  - .    I put my hand over her mouth and told her not to yawn  .    I tried to tell her how excited I was about life and the things we could do together -  saying that and planning to leave Denver in two days .   She turned away wearily .    We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad  .
tremendously excited with life, and though he was a con-man, he was only conniving because he wanted so much to live and to get involved with people who would otherwise pay no attention to him .
It was drizzling and mysterious at the beginning of our journey  
I could see that it was all going to be one big saga of the mist  .   ' Whooee ! '   yelled Dean .  ' Here we go ! '  And he hunched over the wheel and gunned her; he was back in his element, everybody could see that, we were all delighted, we all realized we were leaving confusion and nonsense behind and performing our one and noble function of the time, move. And we moved !   We flashed past the mysterious white signs in the night somewhere in New Jersey that say SOUTH (with an arrow) and WEST (with an arrow) and took the south one .
It was a hot, sunny afternoon
Reno, Battle Mountain, Elko, all the towns along the Nevada road shot by one after another, and at dusk we were in the Salt Lake flats with the lights of Salt Lake City infinitesimally glimmering almost a hundred miles across the mirage of the flats, twice showing, above and below the curve of the earth, one clear, one dim. I told Dean that the thing that bound us all together in this world was invisible, and to prove it pointed to long lines of telephone poles that curved off out of sight over the bend of a hundred miles of salt .
Dean took out other pictures
I realized these were all the snapshots which our children would look at someday with wonder, thinking their parents had lived smooth, well-ordered, stabilized-within-the-photo lives and got up in the morning to walk proudly on the sidewalks of life, never dreaming the raggedy madness and riot of our actual lives, or actual night, the hell of it, the senseless nightmare road. All of it inside endless and beginningless emptiness .

I woke up as the sun was reddening

and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was–I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn’t scared, I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost .
I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future, and maybe that’s why it happened right there and then, that strange red afternoon .
We give and take and penetrate into incredibly complicated sweetnesses by zigzagging anywhere .

on the road - the original scroll <<<

A w w w  ! <<<



Tonight   while walking on the waterfront in the angelic streets I suddenly wanted to tell you how wonderful I think you are. Please don't dislike me.    What is the mystery of the world ?    Nobody knows they're angels .    God's angels are ravishing and fooling me .    I saw a whore and an old man in a lunchcart, and God – their faces !    I wondered what God was up to .    In the subway I almost jumped up to yell, "  What was that for ?    What's going on up there  ?   What do you mean by that  ? "   Jesus, Allen, life ain't worth the candle, we all know it, and almost everything is wrong, but there's nothing we can do about it, and living is heaven.
Well, here we are in heaven .   This is what heaven is like.
jack kerouac to   allen ginsberg  <    -   january 13, 1950     -      fb/allenginsberg 2019


Devo essere felice o morire

perché la mia condizione terrena

è piena di una tristezza insostenibile

e io do la colpa a Dio anziché a me stesso
un mondo battuto dal vento - books/google


Tutti gli altri sono assolutamente soddisfatti
della vita così com'è .

Io no
Voglio la pura comprensione e poi la vita così com'è . 
Deciderò io stesso cosa fare della mia vita
anche se brucerò nel provarci

L'erba profuma di caldo e si sfalda nell'aria più fredda, l'oscurità si manifesta su tutta l'immensa giostra del mondo e il bestiame resta lì, ad aspettare la triste notte di nebbia spazzata dal vento, le sirene della baia sottostante e le stelle isolate che brillano fra gli squarci di nebbia a mezzanotte   .


Non ho mai chiesto di essere creato e di nascere così inadatto a una simile realtà. Io chiedo solo, ora che sono vivo e consapevole, l'estasi di cui la mia anima ha bisogno.
mercoledi 12 novembe :
Oh, venti poderosi, che schiantate i rami novembrini! Il placido sole splendente, non toccato dalle furie della terra, abbandona il mondo all'oscurità, al selvaggio oblio e alla notte, mentre gli uomini tremano nei loro cappotti e si affrettano a tornare a casa. Poi le luci di casa scintillano in quelle profondità desolate. Eppure ci sono le stelle! Alte e luccicanti in un firmamento spirituale. Noi cammineremo fra mulinelli di vento, guardando intensamente attraverso le nostre sembianze terrestri, alla ricerca di un improvviso sorriso di intelligenza umana al di là di queste insondabili bellezze. Ora il ruggito della furia di mezzanotte e lo scricchiolio dei cardini e delle finestre, ora l'inverno, ora la comprensione della terra e della nsotra presenza su di essa: questo dramma di enigmi e di doppi fondi, di sofferenze e di tristi gioie, queste cose umane nell'elementare vastità di un mondo battuto dal vento.
stanotte 55 parole. domani giorno libero, altrimenti, con un po' piu' di parole, aggiungerei il nuovo traguardp di 15.000 parole alla settimana.

un mondo battuto dal vento


... non c'era posto dove non si annoiasse e non c'era posto dove andare se non dappertutto - non c'era altro da fare che vagare sotto le stelle - le stelle del west di solito

there was nowhere to go but everywhere so just keep on rolling under the stars


Cercate la vostra anima
andate a fiutare il vento
andate via
lontano !

è un amico fallo sognare


la scrittura dell’eternità dorata - 1960


the point is we're waiting, not how comfortable we are while waiting. Paleolithic man waited by caves for the realization of why he was there, and hunted; modern men wait in beautified homes and try to forget death and birth. We're waiting for the realization that this is the golden eternity .
This is the first teaching from the golden eternity .

Rest and be kind ... Even in dreams be kind, because anyway there is no time, no space, no mind ... Kindness and sympathy, understanding and encouragement, these give: they are better than just presents and gifts : no reason in the world why not .   Anyhow,  be nice .   Remember the golden eternity is yourself .

The second teaching from the golden eternity is that there never was a first teaching from the golden eternity. So be sure .


While looking for the light, you may suddenly be devoured by the darkness and find the true light .
the scripture of the golden eternity - 1960


life is drenched in spirit - it rains spirit - we would suffer were it not so
the word and the way

And what does the rain say at night in a small town, what does the rain have to say ?    Who walks beneath dripping melancholy branches listening to the rain ?    Who is there in the rain’s million-needled blurring splash, listening to the grave music of the rain at night, September rain, September rain, so dark and soft ?    Who is there listening to steady level roaring rain all around, brooding and listening and waiting, in the rain-washed, rain-twinkled dark of night ?
he saw that all the struggles of life were incessant, laborious, painful, that nothing was done quickly, without labor, that it had to undergo a thousand fondlings,  revisings,  moldings,  addings,  removings,  graftings, tearings, correctings,  smoothings,  rebuildings, reconsiderings,  nailings,  tackings,  chippings,  hammerings,  hoistings, connectings   -   all the poor fumbling uncertain incompletions of human endeavor. They went on forever and were forever incomplete, far from perfect, refined, or smooth, full of terrible memories of failure and fears of failure, yet, in the way of things, somehow noble, complete, and shining in the end  .
Will you love me in December as you do in May  ?
My philosophy is that you can't explain the world .    It's too big and it's too crazy and sometimes it's funny and most of the time it's ... strange .

the town and the city

JK once said of the many foreign editions of his novels :
When I'm old, you know what I'm going to do  ?    I'm going to study languages reading these

So therefore I dedicate myself  to my art  -  my sleep  -  my dreams  -  my labors  -  my suffrances  -  my loneliness  -  my unique madness  -  my endless absorption and hunger because I cannot dedicate myself to any fellow being  
- jk

Non usare il telefono
La gente non è mai pronta
a rispondere
Usa la poesia

Don't use the phone
People are never ready
to answer it
Use poetry
Take pen and paper and scribble words so utterly moving that whosoever reads them believes that the world is shaking and that, somewhere, mountains are crumbling .

However,      it is suddenly occurring to me that a great new change is about to take place in mankind and in the world  .   Don’t ask me how I know this .   And it’s going to be very simple and true, and men will have taken a step forward .   It will be a kind of clear realization of love, and war will eventually seem unreal and even obsolete, and a lot of other things will happen .   But madness will rule in high places for a long time yet .   All this is going to come up from the people themselves, a great new revolution of the soul .  Politics has nothing to do with this . It will be a kind of a looking around and noticing of the world and a simultaneous abandoment of systems of pride and jealousy,    in many,   many,    people,   and it will spread around swiftly  .


I wonder why our life must quiver between beauty and guilt
consummation and sadness
desire and regret, immortality and tattered moments unknowable
truth and beautiful meaningful lies

All the souls to explore  ! - It's not so necessary to love, really
as it is to settle something deep with all of those who really matter
Love and hate are the same things, differently sifted through personal ...
pride, or what have you ... personal pride or even just personal-ness

Hang on, hang on  …

life's long, energy creates energy, things are all-right

hunger piles up, love waits … and when found …

grows. Hang on .

 A day of intense feelings, a day of great rending thoughts that twist one back to face sudden realities hitherto avoided  - and there you are, facing them, like looking into the sun, blinking, admitting the truth


I wonder if happiness is possible
It is a state of mind but I'd hate to be a bore all my life
if only because of those I love around me
Happiness can change into unhappiness just for the sake of change

I want a blaze of light to flame in me forever in a timeless

dear love of everything  

And why should I pretend to want anything else  ?

Allow me my soul somehow - yet love me
Don't tell them too much about your soul - They're waiting for just that

 windblown world - the journals of jk   1947-1954 - fb/jk 

I'm throwing away something that I can't even find in the incredible clutter of my being

I would have preferred the happy man to the unhappy poems he's left us

And I go home having lost her love .    And write this book   .


O love,  fled me  -  or do telepathies cross sympathetically in the night  ?


The details are the life of it, I insist, say everything on your mind, don’t hold back

don’t analyze or anything as you go along, say it out .

...   Ah, you always go for the ones who don't really want you  .

the subterraneans

Offer them what they secretly want and they of course immediately become panic-stricken
I am mentally exhausted and spiritually discouraged by this shit of being of having to do what everybody wants me to do instead of just my old private life of poesies and nove lies of yore.
JK to AG - letters - dharma lion: a biography of allen ginsberg di michael schumacher

I want to work in revelations, not just spin silly tales for money

I want to fish as deep down as possible into my own subconscious

in the belief that once that far down, everyone will understand

because they are the same that far down


We are stupid,  stupid  -  that’s the main thing about us .    We don’t doubt enough, we, form too many convictions, like idiots we live by them. It’s far better that, instead of perfecting our attitudes, or perfecting our position in the world even, we would spend time perfecting doubt - develop a perfection of doubt ...


forse la vita è questo … un battito di ciglia e stelle ammiccanti
maybe that's what life is ... a wink of the eye and winking stars

jk - selected letters 1940-1956


I don't know,   I don't care   and it doesn't make any difference


I’m a rucksack bum

in the desert trudging along not knowing I’m trudging along to European travel, fame and fortune and showing how fame & fortune is a crock in America   .


So you see, Nin

my aimlessness and laziness are not just ingrained in my personality they were put there by the hard nature of life when I was just four or five, and can be extracted again, like a bad appendix .   The only thing I don’t like about all this is that I lose self-respect, I feel as though I don’t have a mind or will of my own .    But then I realize that, well, anyway, get operated on for the hell of it  -  because if I start to exercise my so-called will on my own again, it will blindly lead me back along the rounded rut of that circle I’m in .   Gadzooks, I’m sick of that circle  .

selected letters 1940-1956 - to his sister caroline_nin


What I’m beginning to discover now is something beyond the novel

and beyond the arbitrary confines of the story  …  

I’m making myself seek to find the wild form, that can grow with my wild heart …

because now I know MY HEART DOES GROW
selected letters 1940-1956 - to john clellon holmes 1951-52


Not that I want Nirvana for myself, no sir

just a good night’s reset every single night, with window open

in silent night, and wake up to a good cup of coffee


Feeling is the essence of intellect
because without feeling nothing can be KNOWN, Goddammit ! ...
So write how you FEEL

beat zen, square zen, and zen - selected letters 1957-1969


Between incomprehensible and incoherent sits the madhouse

I am not in the madhouse


Realize, Allen

that if all the world were green, there would be no such thing as the color green. Similarly, men cannot know what it is to be together without otherwise knowing what it is to be apart .    If all the world were love, then, how could love exist? This is why we turn away from each other on moments of great happiness and closeness .    How can we know happiness and closeness without contrasting them, like lights  ?
JK to AG - september, 1948


I feel older

and clearer than I ever did - though at the same time more irretrievable isolated in the huge dream of the world …  Whatever I want,   I still am not what I wanted to be,  none of the many kinds of things I wanted to be  -  and perhaps will not .   The opening of eyes goes on  .


I'm afraid that you'll never understand me fully

and because of that

sometimes you'll be frightened,  disgusted,  annoyed  or pleased


I think we none of us realize the importance

nay the sweetness, of admiration

it is one of the dying virtues of character


We are sealed in our own little melancholy atmospheres, like planets

and revolving around the sun, our common but distant desire
jk and allen ginsberg  -  the letters






While he is best known for his novels, Kerouac is also noted for his poetry written during the Beat movement. Kerouac stated that he wanted "to be considered as a jazz poet blowing a long blues in an afternoon jazz session on Sunday."
Many of Kerouac's poems follow the style of his free-flowing, uninhibited prose, also incorporating elements of jazz and Buddhism.
Mexico City Blues" a poem published by Kerouac in 1959 is made up of over 200 choruses following the rhythms of jazz music. In much of his poetry, to achieve a jazz-like rhythm, Kerouac made use of the long dash in place of a period. Several excellent examples of this can be seen throughout "Mexico City Blues"


Is Ignorant of its own emptiness
Doesn't like to be reminded of fits


Other well-known poems by Kerouac, such as "Bowery Blues" incorporate jazz rhythm with Buddhist themes of Sangsara, the cycle of life and subsequent death, and Samadhi, the concentration of composing the mind.
Also, following the jazz/blues tradition Kerouac's poetry features repetition and overall themes of the troubles or sense of loss experienced in life.


The story of man
Makes me sick
Inside, outside
I don't know why
Something so conditional
And all talk
Should hurt me so .
I am hurt
I am scared
I want to live
I want to die
I don't know
Where to turn
In the Void
And when
To cut

For no Church told me
No Guru holds me
No advice
Just stone
Of New York
And on the cafeteria
We hear
The saxophone
O dead Ruby
Died of Shot
In Thirty Two,
Sounding like old times
And de bombed
Empty decapitated
Murder by the clock .
And I see Shadows
Dancing into Doom
In love, holding
TIght the lovely asses
Of the little girls
In love with sex
Showing themselves
In white undergarments
At elevated windows
Hoping for the Worst .
I can't take it
If I can't hold
My little behind
To me in my room
Then it's goodbye
For me
Girls aren't as good
As they look
And Samadhi
Is better
Than you think
When it starts in
Hitting your head
In with Buzz
Of glittergold
Heaven's Angels
We've been waiting for you
Since Morning, Jack
Why were you so long
Dallying in the sooty room ?
This transcendental Brilliance
Is the better part
( of Nothingness
I sing )
Okay .
Quit .
Mad .
Stop .

29.3.1955 n.y.
pomes all sizes : pocket poets - nr 48 - jk

All our best men are laughed at in this nightmare land
pomes all sizes


Questo mondo non ha tracce, segni o evidenza
di esistenza,   né rumori, come
l’accidente del vento o le voci o gli animali raglianti

eppure ascolta attento l’eterno ssst del silenzio
che va avanti durante tutto questo  ed è andato
avanti da prima  e durerà ancora e ancora


Voglio essere considerato

un poeta jazz
che suona un lungo blues

in una jam session
d'una domenica pomeriggio

Colgo 242 strofe  -  i miei pensieri cambiano e a volte rotolano tra strofa e strofa o dalla metà dell’una a quella della successiva .


I want to be considered a jazz poet blowing a long blues in an afternoon jam session on Sunday .   I take 242 choruses -  my ideas vary and sometimes roll from chorus to chorus or from halfway through  a chorus to halfway into the next

nota in  mexico city blues - 242 choruses -  1959






- I want to be considered a jazz poet blowing a long blues in an afternoon jam session on Sunday.  

I take 242 choruses; my ideas vary and sometimes roll from chorus to chorus or from halfway through a chorus to halfway into the next .

- jk



Kerouac calls himself a jazz poet

There is no doubt about his great sensitivity to language.

His sentences frequently move into tempestuous sweeps and whorls and sometimes they have something of the rich music of Gerard Manley Hopkins of Dylan Thomas .
allen ginsberg

the new york herald tribune  -  mexico city blues


A Natale mi portarono

una cassetta giocattolo
dentro e fuori dalla quale
mia sorella Caroline
giocava con eserciti
di biglietti con tristi
figurine di gente in meste
cittadine alla Viennese
corni, orchestrine
in piazza
e nella luce bruna
della cucina mi chiedevo
' Che significa ?  -  mistero dei piccoli
Sono tutti spaventosi come me  ?
Sono tutti spaventati come me  ?
Devono tutti dormire al buio di notte ?

... '
da : i blues di jack kerouac



Non devi preoccuparti della morte .
Tutto ciò che fai  è come il tuo eroe
Il Dolcissimo angelico uomo tenore
Che gemeva dolce bop
Un pomeriggio in sezione fiati
Quando non dirigeva la band
E ogni nota nostalgica
Ogni nota un Grido di Perdita
del nostro Amore e Dominio -
esatti, eternati -




mexico city blues - fb/mondadori

Tra l’altro, a proposito della mia idiosincrasia nei confronti dei punti c’è la prosa molto sperimentale di October in the Railroad Earth -  scritto con l’intento di riprodurre per tutto il libro il rumore di un treno a vapore che trasporta un centinaio di automobili e un vagone del personale parlante in coda. Era quello il mio modo di scrivere all’epoca e può esserlo ancora se  -  quando scrivo spedito  -  il pensiero è confessionale e puro ed entusiasta della vita che si porta dentro.
E mi creda   Ho passato tutta la mia gioventù a scrivere lentamente fra revisioni  - infinite rielaborazioni e cancellature - al punto che riuscivo a scrivere al massimo una frase al giorno ed era una frase priva di sentimento .    Dannazione  se c’è una cosa che amo dell’arte è proprio il sentimento - non l’astuzia e la dissimulazione dei sentimenti.

arte della narrazione - the paris review

stencil murale di Flavio Campagna Kampah  in Arte F CK "F CK J CK"
ostello bortolino - viadana - mn  
fb/viadangeles - - 2014

Jack Kerouac Beat Painting

MA*GA  - Gallarate varese   -  attività pittorica e grafica di jK

in mostra dipinti, disegni e fotografie

Come meditare
- luci spente -
autunno, mani strette, in istantanea
estasi come una pera di eroina o morfina.
la ghiandola nel mio cervello secernente
il buon fluido felice
 - Fluido Santo -  allorché
mi ah-bbasso e tengo ogni parte del corpo
giù in trance da puntomorto – Sanando
ogni mio male – tutto cancellando – neppure
resta il brandello di uno
'spero-che-tu' o una
Bolla di Pazzia ma la mente
libera, serena, spensierata.
'Quando arriva
un pensiero spuntando da lontano con la sua
esibita figura d’immagine, lo freghi
lo sfreghi via, lo smonti e si fa
smunto, e il pensiero non viene – e
con gioia comprendi per la prima volta
«Pensare è proprio come non pensare –
Perciò non devo pensare

Here I was at the end of America ... no more land ...
and nowhere to go but back

New York Public Library
collezione di manoscritti, fotografie e oggetti appartenuti a famosi scrittori
- If you are looking at, say, Jack Kerouac's lighter or his boots, you're seeing the man, in a sense
NYPL's director of exhibitions Declan Kiely - 



I can’t type like I used to
I’m afraid I can’t write like I used to neither …

da lettera all'amico john sterling


L'ULTIMA MACCHINA DA SCRIVERE ALL'ASTA - 2020 - fb/allenginsberg

his last typewriter - correspondance with allen ginsberg with a photo annotated by jack - a signed pencil drawing of his nephew  'lil paul' - family photos - articles and clothing

fb/jk - 2020

Qual è la tua strada amico ?
 la strada del santo
-  la strada del pazzo
la strada dell'arcobaleno

la strada dell'imbecille
qualsiasi strada
È una strada in tutte le direzioni
per tutti gli uomini in tutti i modi

on the road - IV - cap 1   

What's your road, man ? - holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road .

It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow .  Where body how ?  we nodded in the rain .

neal cassady as dean moriarty in on the road - original scroll




It was with a great deal of silly relief that these people let us off the car at the corner of 27th and Federal .    Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go .    But no matter, the road is life .
fu con evidente e stupido sollievo che i turisti ci fecero scendere dalla macchina all’angolo tra la 27a e la Federal.    le nostre valigie logore erano di nuovo ammucchiate sul marciapiede;  dovevamo ancora andare lontano.  

ma che importava, la strada è la vita .

on the road


maggio 1968_2018  - 50 anni beat generation

Jack Kerouac passed away 51 years ago today .   On that first night Allen wrote in his Journal  :
At dusk I went out to the pasture & saw thru Kerouac’s eyes the sun set on October universe, the first sun set on the first dusk after his death .

fb/ag - 21.10.2020
al tramonto sono andato al pascolo & ho visto attraverso gli occhi di Kerouac il sole tramontare sull’universo di ottobre, il primo calar del sole al primo tramonto dopo la sua morte  .
... but the beat characters after 1950 vanished into jails and madhouses
or were shamed into silent conformity
the generation itself was shortlived and small in number

JK - fb/beatpoemsontheroad


jean louis lebris de kerouac

lowell - massachusetts 12 MARZO 1922  

st.petersburg - florida  21 OTTOBRE 1969


mozzo - parcheggiatore - frenatore in una compagnia ferroviaria - benzinaio - lavapiatti - raccoglitore cotone - guardia forestale e notturna - avvistatore di incendi - vagabondo per gli Stati Uniti, si stabilirà prevalentemente a san francisco, patria di tutti gli artisti. con 'on the road' i giovani - beat-generation - troveranno in lui qualcuno in cui rispecchiarsi e che si occuperà sempre di loro. le sue poesie hanno ridato vitalità e movimento alla lingua parlata, seguendo l'onda dei suoni.
 ...    quelli che non sbadigliano mai e non dicono mai un luogo comune ...  ma bruciano bruciano bruciano come candele romane gialle e favolose che esplodono come ragni tra le stelle  .  on the road
menestrello del suo tempo  ha ispirato anche bob dylan.  
si autodefiniva  ' poeta jazz '  .
adorava i gatti.
da giovane scrittore si firmava john kerouac .


 more info