Monday, May 16, 2016
Antony & the Johnsons - The Lake / Current Ninety Three / Live at St Ola...
The Lake
Edgar Allen Poe
In youth's spring, it was my lot
To haunt of the wide earth a spot
To which I could not love the less
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound
And the tall trees that towered around
To haunt of the wide earth a spot
To which I could not love the less
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound
And the tall trees that towered around
But when the night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot as upon all
And the wind would pass me by
In its stilly melody
Upon that spot as upon all
And the wind would pass me by
In its stilly melody
My infant spirit would awake
To the terror of the lone lake
My infant spirit would awake
To the terror of the lone lake
To the terror of the lone lake
My infant spirit would awake
To the terror of the lone lake
Yet that terror was not fright
But a tremulous delight
And a feeling undefined
Springing from a darkened mind
Death was in that poisoned wave
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his dark imagining
Whose wildering though could even make
An Eden of that dim lake
But a tremulous delight
And a feeling undefined
Springing from a darkened mind
Death was in that poisoned wave
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his dark imagining
Whose wildering though could even make
An Eden of that dim lake
But when the night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot as upon all
And the wind would pass me by
In its stilly melody
Upon that spot as upon all
And the wind would pass me by
In its stilly melody
My infant spirit would awake
To the terror of the lone lake
My infant spirit would awake
To the terror of the lone lake
To the terror of the lone lake
My infant spirit would awake
To the terror of the lone lake
Springing from a darkened mind
So lovely was the loneliness
In youth's spring, it was my lot
In its stilly melody
An Eden of that dim lake
An Eden of that dim lake
Lone, lone, lonely...
So lovely was the loneliness
In youth's spring, it was my lot
In its stilly melody
An Eden of that dim lake
An Eden of that dim lake
Lone, lone, lonely...
i carry your heart with me, e.e.cummings
[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]
by: E.E. Cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
by: E.E. Cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
grey cold windy rain
somehow i slept until not long ago.
chemicals..
i hope i will not need them again this week.
nobody should need them.
i feel numb half day after using this or
similar stuff. soul and awareness
are being suppressed and mistreated.
Diabetes, poetry and sleep: the art of dying
sleep is mercy and grace.
after 5 days of migraine and changes in weather, temperature and air pressure,
i, my body and my organic structure and my soul,
we forgot again to sleep,
and i am in danger of substance abuse and
following withdrawal symptoms once more.
Diabetes pops up and goes for several weeks now after having had
disappeared for three years.
The ups and downs of blood sugar levels affect my brain,
my mood, my condition. I am either irritable or tired.
I need Insuline, and then i need again no Insuline.
It is hard to deal with this specific instability,
just now i am itching allover.
On top of it i developed a mild allergy against the skin particles of my cat
making me sneeze and cough. He sleeps stretched out
on his back on my bed.
Just looks at me when i get up in my sleeplessness
with the bored expression of a non-believer.
I hope all this can change again for better.
This is not poetry, just difficult and demanding on my energy level.
maybe complaining helps to break up patterns as poetry does.
poetry is processing the experience of life in such a way as to
prepare a state of freedom in which meditation can be possible.
For me it is to let go and walk out of suffocation and prisons,
patterns and mantras walking out in words, and then to see the futility
of my problems and the circles in which i keep myself erring.
art is meditation already in a first step.
in a way art is the art of dying consciously,
and in the end means an act of release from
fighting for freedom and coming to acceptance.
life and love are the teachers, not poetry, not gurus.
now, sleep, come. come with your wonder and refresh me.
please. i let you come...
.
after 5 days of migraine and changes in weather, temperature and air pressure,
i, my body and my organic structure and my soul,
we forgot again to sleep,
and i am in danger of substance abuse and
following withdrawal symptoms once more.
Diabetes pops up and goes for several weeks now after having had
disappeared for three years.
The ups and downs of blood sugar levels affect my brain,
my mood, my condition. I am either irritable or tired.
I need Insuline, and then i need again no Insuline.
It is hard to deal with this specific instability,
just now i am itching allover.
On top of it i developed a mild allergy against the skin particles of my cat
making me sneeze and cough. He sleeps stretched out
on his back on my bed.
Just looks at me when i get up in my sleeplessness
with the bored expression of a non-believer.
I hope all this can change again for better.
This is not poetry, just difficult and demanding on my energy level.
maybe complaining helps to break up patterns as poetry does.
poetry is processing the experience of life in such a way as to
prepare a state of freedom in which meditation can be possible.
For me it is to let go and walk out of suffocation and prisons,
patterns and mantras walking out in words, and then to see the futility
of my problems and the circles in which i keep myself erring.
art is meditation already in a first step.
in a way art is the art of dying consciously,
and in the end means an act of release from
fighting for freedom and coming to acceptance.
life and love are the teachers, not poetry, not gurus.
now, sleep, come. come with your wonder and refresh me.
please. i let you come...
.
Nick Cave , Are You The One That I've Been Waiting For
I've felt you coming girl, as you drew near
I knew you'd find me, cause I longed you here
Are you my destiny? is this how you'll appear?
Wrapped in a coat with tears in your eyes?
Well take that coat babe, and throw it on the floor
Are you the one that I've been waiting for?
I knew you'd find me, cause I longed you here
Are you my destiny? is this how you'll appear?
Wrapped in a coat with tears in your eyes?
Well take that coat babe, and throw it on the floor
Are you the one that I've been waiting for?
As you've been moving surely toward me
My soul has comforted and assured me
That in time my heart it will reward me
And that all will be revealed
So I've sat and I've watched an ice-age thaw
Are you the one that I've been waiting for?
My soul has comforted and assured me
That in time my heart it will reward me
And that all will be revealed
So I've sat and I've watched an ice-age thaw
Are you the one that I've been waiting for?
Out of sorrow entire worlds have been built
Out of longing great wonders have been willed
They're only little tears, darling, let them spill
And lay your head upon my shoulder
Outside my window the world has gone to war
Are you the one that I've been waiting for?
Out of longing great wonders have been willed
They're only little tears, darling, let them spill
And lay your head upon my shoulder
Outside my window the world has gone to war
Are you the one that I've been waiting for?
O we will know, won't we?
The stars will explode in the sky
O but they don't, do they?
Stars have their moment and then they die
The stars will explode in the sky
O but they don't, do they?
Stars have their moment and then they die
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