The Animals - House of the Rising Sun.
when all the golden birds
fly home across the blue deep water;
On shore I sit rapt in its scattering
departure rustles through the trees.
This farewell is vast and separation draws close,
but reunion, that also is certain.
My head on my arm I fall asleep easily.
On my eyes a mother’s breath,
from her mouth to my heart:
sleep, child, and dream now the sun is gone."
DEAD HORSE BEATS - Hello Mahaila!
or else the world is falling apart —
here — now — along these letters,
against the walls of every heart."
A lily withers in the sand -
and if its nature has failed? The tide
washes the beach at night.
What is the fly looking for on the spider’s web?
What does a dayfly make of its hours?
(Two wings creased over a hollow body.)
Black will never turn to white—
yet the perfume of our struggle lingers
as each morning fresh flowers
spring up from hell."
You reach your hands
Into people, and you
Rummage without taking."
Fog, or stars, a leaf of spring, the little
veins you’re tracing, the world’s
still healthy here."
end and so I am finished.
All spiritual facts I realize
are true but I never escape
the feeling of being closed in
and the sordidness of self,
the futility of all that I
have seen and done and said.
Maybe if I continued things
would please me more but now
I have no hope and I am tired."
School of Emotional Engineering - She Dreams In Car Crashes.
Ben Frost - Swarm.
Fell - In June.