11/13/2023 0 Comments So sick with rose flowerPeter Orlovsky: Vultures will take it if you give it… if they’re around.ĪG: Uh-huh. Peter Orlovsky: I mean, no one else wants it. Maybe the worm is just hungry and wants a good meal.ĪG: Well, sure. So that the wisdom of death “that flies in the night” in experience, in the howling storm of experience, the school of hard knocks, so to speak, through experience, has understood, finally, (and) has found out the secret of your “bed of crimson joy” – that is – (it is) ultimately dependent on death. So it may be that the worm is wisdom, in a sense, or consciousness itself, or human consciousness itself, or ultimate human awareness, which, in a sense, casts a shadow on existence because you realize that existence is transitory. But how does death, or illness, or whatever, sickness, how does it find out “thy bed/ Of crimson joy”? Death has found out that the living being is dependent on a bed of crimson joy, dependent on flesh-meat-blood-crimson-joy bed, the old bed of skin, and being dependent on that perishing thing. The rose is obviously life itself, subject to death, so I assume that the “invisible worm/ That flies in the night/ In the howling storm” was death. I’ve had different interpretations at different times. I’ve never been able to (figure it out) I’ve never been able to fix an interpretation. The illustration shows a large bulbous beautiful meaty rose with a worm coming out of it and a little spirit flying out of it. “O Rose thou art sick./The invisible worm,/That flies in the night/In the howling storm:/ Has found out thy bed/Of crimson joy:/And his dark secret love/Does thy life destroy.”ĪG” Does anybody (have) an interpretation for that? There’s a picture.
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