![\"\"](\"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/05\/peter_orlovsky.jpg\" "\\"peter_orlovsky\\"")
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\u201cThe Shellean farmer astride hid Pegasusian tractor\u201d as Gregory Corso once knighted him passed on today, May 30 2010 to the elysian fields, a bardo of becoming. First glance hour earlier Peter was resting with \u201ctrach\u201d in throat in orange sheets at the kind Vt Respite Center in Williston, Vermont (but no extra tubes\/ heroic measures for this advanced cancer on his lung!), a copy of the Songs of Saraha<\/em> by his pillow, photo of beloved Allen Ginsberg companion of many years on the wall, other Buddhist images, iPod of music he loved including chants by Buddhist nuns, cards from friends and out the window a bird feeder with finch and red-winged blackbirds landing\/taking off. Chuck and Judith Lief, faithful guardians and friends at his side. He had been moved less than 48 hours earlier from intensive care at a hospital in Boston, finally to hospice. His body we were touching we noticed suddenly turned cold like death was in the room. We got the nurse. Judy and I stepped out when suddenly Chuck called us back. Peter had opened his eyes. Chuck said \u201cIt might be the last time\u201d. By his side now, looking into his eyes told out love, I thanked him for his presence in our lives, his poetry his care and love for Allen, \u00a0his work at Naropa. Ah, \u00a0I thought a flash of recognition shivering through! slight movement of mouth,\u00a0 light coming in on his handsome face through the window now, and \u00a0Judy singing om a hum vajra guua padma siddhi hum <\/em>in crystal voice said \u201cdon\u2019t be afraid\u201d. Joined in. Last breathes, one coming late, staggered: his heart\/breath stopt. \u00a0Poet Christina Lovin \u00a0in \u00a0room with nurse gave gentle witness who checked the clock 11:39 I think or so a.m. Earlier we\u2019d played recording of Peter singing his Raspberry Song with great heart-soaring yodel and \u00a0\u201chow sweet you are\u201d. \u201cMake my grave shape of heart so like a flower be free aired and handsome felt\u201d ( \u201cThe Snail\u201d). Tibetan Book of the Dead<\/em> readings, in full final repose arranged with blue shirt, hands folded, consciousness a joyful gardener sprite? no fear, no fear working its way out\u2026<\/p>\n \n Anne Waldman\u00a0 5.30.2010<\/p>\n Vt Studio Center<\/p>\n 1958 NYC<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Anne Waldman on Peter Orlovsky’s Passing: \u201cThe Shellean farmer astride hid Pegasusian tractor\u201d as Gregory Corso once knighted him passed on today, May 30 2010 to the elysian fields, a bardo of becoming. First...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[76,91],"tags":[592],"class_list":["post-3758","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-obituaries","category-poetry","tag-peter-orlovsky"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3758","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3758"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3758\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3758"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3758"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3758"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\n
Peter Orlovsky<\/h3>\n
Snail Poem<\/h3>\n
Make my grave shape of heart so like a flower be free aired\n & handsome felt,\nGrave root pillow, tung up from grave & wigle at\n blown up clowd.\nEar turnes close to underlayer of green felt moss & sound\n of rain dribble thru this layer\n down to the roots that will tickle my ear.\nHay grave, my toes need cutting so file away\n in sound curve or\nGarbage grave, way above my head, blood will soon\n trickle in my ear -\n no choise but the grave, so cat & sheep are daisey\n turned.\nTrain will tug my grave, my breath hueing gentil vapor\n between weel & track.\nSo kitten string & ball, jumpe over this mound so\n gently & cutely\nSo my toe can curl & become a snail & go curiousely\n on its way.<\/pre>\n