a visual collective outlet of inspiration
preen – late turn toward dusk
under those same willows
that pry prairie petals upon morning dew
and like that, along the shore. by lsd
music
Dawn Chorus – B. of C. – The Color of the Fire
in return –
trembling room and wild licks,
hums throughout the house
and like that, at rebirth. by lsd
Dusk Chorus – N.F.A. Khan & M. Attack – Mustt Mustt
fear not – froth too,
water too, you’re all accountable now
and like that, along the shore. by lsd
Dawn Chorus – P. KRAY – Дорогой Человек
it is heavy, that path forward
toward suffering – right ahead – take me such
for i am to be free then only, i think
and like that, at rebirth. by lsd
Dawn Chorus – Holley – Future Children
pressed against the truth, so deeply wound
though, eventually finding a rightful place in it
and like that, at rebirth. by lsd
Dusk Chorus – E. Badu – The Healer
where it’s from
just like that, then some more too
good measure and the likes..
and like that, along the shore. by lsd
Dawn Chorus – Björk – Come to me
breaths shine off my temple
warm yourself, against this burning chest
and like that, at rebirth. by lsd
Dusk Chorus – Anenon – Two for C
weaving in and out
though, really, on ahead
and like that, along the shore. by lsd
de torres | Sade | nothing can come between us
it’s the feeling i’ve got right now.
but so often, how steadfast i should be. and the tired presses against the weak. the faint’ the brittle. come back to me, i would have to say so. even if it meant nothing to you. they’re just words. they burn some clarity away from assumption.
rightfully so, though once they are mine i make them what i want them to be.
—
or do you not think those things? or that none of this ever happened? instead that i was just so wrong, so plainly false. that i lived something flashing along a blunt edge, something in passing I held so close. placed a mark so off i could not walk it back. and that you gave it no second thought. that you did not leave at all. that could be possible too, i guess, and time makes me only wonder. is this still brave? do you need me more at all? maybe you know just how much I can hold and have never doubted. so you do not worry. and when you come back, i would not ever have either. you would find me as i said, calm. patient. proper. because I’d be right then, that i was once again foolish. pretending to something foreign only totally. and that is why. like a return. something i should expect to happen. and maybe you would never ask what i did in the meantime. and we would not wonder. that I could tell you i will not ask you either. and that would make you certain. that you would be sure to never again. because we are bound. by some glad marrow.
in a breathless cadence
—
for you to keep. i have all i can hold already. place them in my arms. like so. and it would feel like that i’m sure if this was ours. by lsd
Mazza | Burial | I just can’t explain what i feel when i’m around you, baby
it’s the truth, song or not.
though chemz is good for it.
and like that, at rebirth. by lsd
beethoven’s ode to joy | burne-jones’ golden staircase | it’s june now
the golden staircase, edward burne-jones, 1880
in no way do i feel remotely like this toward any of this.
but after the last post it only felt right.
i don’t care about the 21st, i don’t care about your seasons. this is summer. because anyway it’s all fake, julius and augustus – more like julyuck and augussuck as far as i’m concerned. june is the last real month preceeding five months of lies and smokescreens. september, october, november, december. you do the math.
and i can’t capitalize on this godforsaken website. they won’t let me.
and it’s beginning to become too hot for my morning bike ride through the park to my studio if i wear my backpack (which i must). so now i have to invest in a panier but the rear rack will have to be compatible with a mud guard, and both need to be quick release. that means making a big decision as to getting disc brakes or keeping my pad brakes that barely work (but do work). and i’m thinking of switching both cassettes and both derailleurs as they don’t work (for real), and i want disc brakes but that move away from pad brakes is spiritually akin to getting the new iphone every year. and what if my frame can’t house these things, and then i have to get a dumb new bike that i won’t love nearly as much.
my brakes work. i could use the work-out of not being about to shift gears. who cares if my back sweats i’m tall and strong. i want to use capital letters. they’re fine. capital letters work. i need a mudguard. it’s summer god damn it.
is what i would say..
but after looking at the golden staircase and resting my eyes on the masterpiece for a few moments – i want to wish you a great first day of june. i hope that you enjoy it and look forward to the months ahead. rocking and brimming.
the painting itself is perhaps the most potent representation of hope and tenderness in burne jones’ body of work. his pre-raphaelite ties are wonderfully displayed in the painting – yet he grounds himself firmly in the ideals of the movement, we can identify a master pressing to the edges. moving away from what was too often a retread of old virtues de facto we have here a painting of true invention. a thought that careens toward contemplation. then, true observation. wherein the players and their environment are in harmony. sublime. by lsd
Amyl and the sniffer | guided by angels
thought to end may with the outlier good contemporary punk song ..
ksenia dronova paintings, lull me into june sweetly, and forever ..
and they are taking me – hummed softly only. that is the case here, anyway. by lsd
