#City Lights Bookstore

[dirtyriver]

Lawrence Ferlinghetti, City Lights Bookstore

[edwardastormwrites]

A Distance From The Sea

A Distance From The Sea To Ernest Brace

"And when the seven thunders had uttered their voices, I was about to write: and I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Seal up those things which the seven thunders uttered, and write them not." —REVELATIONS, x, 4.

That raft we rigged up, under the water, Was just the item: when he walked, With his robes blowing, dark against the sky, It was as though the unsubstantial waves held up His slender and inviolate feet. The gulls flew over, Dropping, crying alone; thin ragged lengths of cloud Drifted in bars across the sun. There on the shore The crowd's response was instantaneous. He Handled it well, I thought—the gait, the tilt of the head, just right. Long streaks of light were blinding on the waves. And then we knew our work well worth the time: The days of sawing, fitting, all those nails, The tiresome rehearsals, considerations of execution. But if you want a miracle, you have to work for it, Lay your plans carefully and keep one jump Ahead of the crowd. To report a miracle Is a pleasure unalloyed; but staging one requires Tact, imagination, a special knack for the job Not everyone possesses. A miracle, in fact, means work. —And now there are those who have come saying That miracles were not what we were after. But what else Is there? What other hope does life hold out But the miraculous, the skilled and patient Execution, the teamwork, all the pain and worry every miracle involves?

Visionaries tossing in their beds, haunted and racked By questions of Messiahship and eschatology, Are like the mist rising at nightfall, and come, Perhaps to even less. Grave supernaturalists, devoted worshippers Experience the ecstasy (such as it is), but not Our ecstasy. It was our making. Yet sometimes When the torrent of that time Comes pouring back, I wonder at our courage And our enterprise. It was as though the world Had been one darkening, abandoned hall Where rows of unlit candles stood; and we Not out of love, so much, or hope, or even worship, but Out of the fear of death, came with our lights And watched the candles, one by one, take fire, flames Against the long night of our fear. We thought That we could never die. Now I am less convinced. —The traveller on the plain makes out the mountains At a distance; then he loses sight. His way Winds through the valleys; then, at a sudden turning of a path, The peaks stand nakedly before him: they are something else Than what he saw below. I think now of the raft (For me, somehow, the summit of the whole experience) And all the expectations of that day, but also of the cave We stocked with bread, the secret meetings In the hills, the fake assassins hired for the last pursuit, The careful staging of the cures, the bribed officials, The angels' garments, tailored faultlessly, The medicines administered behind the stone, That ultimate cloud, so perfect, and so opportune. Who managed all that blood I never knew.

The days get longer. It was a long time ago. And I have come to that point in the turning of the path Where peaks are infinite—horn-shaped and scaly, choked with thorns.

But even here, I know our work was worth the cost. What we have brought to pass, no one can take away. Life offers up no miracles, unfortunately, and needs assistance. Nothing will be the same as once it was, I tell myself.—It's dark here on the peak, and keeps on getting darker. It seems I am experiencing a kind of ecstasy. Was it sunlight on the waves that day? The night comes down. And now the water seems remote, unreal, and perhaps it is.

[fixy8ed4xys]

City Lights Bookstore, San Francisco

[tinky-winky-files-archive]

today at city lights

[socstudies]

I went here yesterday and I'm soo sad that this isn't in my country bc I'd go here everyday. the selection was amazing, especially the downstairs nonfiction area !!

City Lights really is an absolutely magical bookstore. I wanted to buy every book there.

[travsd]

So Long, Frisco, So Long!

Following my heavenly sojourn in Niles, I returned back north to San Francisco to strike a few items off my bucket list. Thanks to one of my oldest friends, who lives on Alameda Island (off Oakland) with her nice family, who offered hospitality for a night, permitting me a platform from which to dive. Barbary Coast: . . This merely amused me. More on the Can-Can here:  The St. Francis Hotel,…

[thingstol00kat]

Partners

By Stephen Housewright about his relationship with Jerry Hunt

[peacefulandcozy]

Instagram credit: co.nfused

[learnelle]

Obsessed with this bookshop-cinema hybrid in Florence! During the day you can even sit upstairs and watch people choose their books downstairs 💛

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 218

“Moom, there’s yellow-eyed creeps fighting ninjas outside the window again!” 

Danny sighed, taking a deep breath- in for ten, out for eight- as he set the pot he was cleaning back in the sink. Dan- currently six- came running in from the living room of the apartment, where he was watching TV. Or he should have been if not for the bullshit outside. 

He sighed again, picking up baby Ellie- currently closer to two- out of her highchair (even if she could just float out) and let his oldest drag him to the window. Sure enough, another fight was happening, with no vigilante in sight stopping it. Look, he knew most people didn’t live here, but it was still rude. 

“Jordan, remember how I told you how violence isn’t always the answer?” Danny asked sweetly, Dan’s expression shifting to a wicked grin as he opened the window. “Feel free to practice tossing some fireballs while I clean up your sister, yeah?” 

Ah, the sweet sound of surprised cursing and startled ecto-signatures. Maybe they’d be polite enough to take their spar elsewhere. 

[nomad-skateboarding]

I'm still that child at my best.

Kids Who Die

This is for the kids who die, Black and white, For kids will die certainly. The old and rich will live on awhile, As always, Eating blood and gold, Letting kids die.

Kids will die in the swamps of Mississippi Organizing sharecroppers Kids will die in the streets of Chicago Organizing workers Kids will die in the orange groves of California Telling others to get together Whites and Filipinos, Negroes and Mexicans, All kinds of kids will die Who don’t believe in lies, and bribes, and contentment And a lousy peace.

Of course, the wise and the learned Who pen editorials in the papers, And the gentlemen with Dr. in front of their names White and black, Who make surveys and write books Will live on weaving words to smother the kids who die, And the sleazy courts, And the bribe-reaching police, And the blood-loving generals, And the money-loving preachers Will all raise their hands against the kids who die, Beating them with laws and clubs and bayonets and bullets To frighten the people— For the kids who die are like iron in the blood of the people— And the old and rich don’t want the people To taste the iron of the kids who die, Don’t want the people to get wise to their own power, To believe an Angelo Herndon, or even get together

Listen, kids who die— Maybe, now, there will be no monument for you Except in our hearts Maybe your bodies’ll be lost in a swamp Or a prison grave, or the potter’s field, Or the rivers where you’re drowned like Leibknecht But the day will come— Your are sure yourselves that it is coming— When the marching feet of the masses Will raise for you a living monument of love, And joy, and laughter, And black hands and white hands clasped as one, And a song that reaches the sky— The song of the life triumphant Through the kids who die.

-Langston Hughes

[ellie-makes-mbs]

name moodboard for “john” for @psychological-tire-fire-fan

[grace-inthealps]

pics i took at city lights when i was in san francisco<3

[allthedesiredusernamesaretaken]

... endless amount of knowledge ...

📷Fred Lyon - San Francisco

[catsbookscoffeeandlove]

Fall/autumn moodboard won the poll for what moodboard should I do next?

[oldshowbiz]

Vesuvio and City Lights, a pair of vintage San Francisco landmarks, appear in the opening sequence of Freebie and the Bean (1974)