Collected Poems of Lenore Kandel
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Jack Kerouac immortalized her in his novel Big Sur. A student of Zen, she hung out with Gary Snyder and Allen Ginsberg and was a speaker at San Francisco’s Human Be-In. But Lenore Kandel was no muse or hanger-on; she was a brilliant lyric poet, often unabashedly erotic, and that’s where her legacy lies.
Collected Poems of Lenore Kandel contains 80 examples of her art, from the “holy erotica” of her early years to later, more contemplative works. Many of the poems have never been published, others only in rare ephemeral publications. Some are explicit, celebrating carnal love as part of the divine. Others are humorous and cover more quotidian subjects. A recurring theme is the “divine animal” duality. The collection includes poems written from the early fifties up until Kandel’s death.
The paradox of Lenore Kandel is that despite her prodigious talent, she was one of the least read and critically appreciated of modern poets. Kandel found her voice at a time when the Beat era was giving way to the countercultural age, and though she straddled both eras, it meant that she also fell through the cracks in terms of recognition. Now for the first time the full range of her work appears in one volume.
feeling. somewhere. a faint disturbing sense of loss. Telephone from a Madhouse the way it happens, I’m sitting here in this semi-secure four-walled building there is the cool texture of a wooden floor under my naked feet and I’m drinking black coffee from a pretty rice bowl that curves my hands when the phone rings and when I lift that dark plastic instrument and put it to my ear, put it to my carelessly hello-ing mouth this voice from a million miles away, from a treeless plain, from
IT GO! IT NEVER STOPS MOVING there is movement within a mountain a rock, a thought, a flower, a light bulb, a cat, a star, a rice bowl, an arrow LET IT GO! IT NEVER STOPS MOVING there is no such thing as standing still the direction of motion is frequently a matter of choice when you try to stop other things from moving you give yourself an impetus toward backwards motion LET IT GO! Most of the time you will be the it being let go of In the Comics last night I saw the holy trinity
pills with dainty fingertips into the cavern of my mouth flooding beer down my intestinal yardage rainbow slack and wind-y my toes are like fingers long and shaped sensitive I could caress you with my feet there is no part of my body ignorant of love today I combed my hair with my fingers long hair long fingers had no needed no comb washed my face in cold water and let the morning dry it wiping my hands along my sides happy and YES and YES and I won’t STOP I’m going to cross America by
their visions for time payment lies and too many women have bartered themselves for a facsimile of love designed to impress the stranger while their own hearts grow numb and the outlaw is America’s hero because he is what he is and neither begs pardon nor forgiveness nor mercy and the nation is corroded by guilt Angel the eye sees what the mind expects when the mind releases expectation vision perceives perception varies as the eye varies as the mind varies moving through Moebius
bloody and everything!” He stopped and looked at the old woman. “I think I will pull it all out.” Her hand went instinctively towards her head and the boy laughed delightedly and stuck his tongue out at her again. “Come outside,” she said, a little of the hope she had had when she asked him to come inside still in her voice, “and I’ll show you my flowers. All my life I’ve been able to raise beautiful flowers,” she said a little boastfully. “Every day I water and weed them.” She smiled at him,