1. |
After A Storm
03:29
|
|||
|
You walk under the ice trees.
They sway, and crackle,
And arch themselves splendidly
To deck your going.
The white sun flips them into colour
Before You
They are blue,
And mauve,
And emerald.
They are amber,
And jade,
And sardonyx.
They are silver fretted to flame
And startled to stillness,
Bunched, splintered, iridescent.
You walk under the ice trees
And the bright snow creaks as you step upon it.
My dogs leap about you,
And their barking strikes upon the air
Like sharp hammer-strokes on metal.
You walk under the ice trees
But you are more dazzling than the ice flowers,
And the dogs' barking
Is not so loud to me as your quietness.
You walk under the ice trees
At ten o´clock in the morning.
|
||||
2. |
Superstition
03:24
|
|||
|
I have painted a picture of a ghost
Upon my kite,
And hung it on a tree.
Later, when I loose the string
And let it fly,
The people will cower
And hide their heads,
For fear of the God
Swimming in the clouds.
|
||||
3. |
Bullion
03:37
|
|||
|
My thoughts
Chink against my ribs
And roll about like silver hail-stones.
I should like to spill them out,
And pour them, all shining,
Over you.
But my heart is shut upon them
And holds them straitly.
Come, You! and open my heart;
That my thoughts torment me no longer,
But glitter in your hair.
|
||||
4. |
Strain
02:47
|
|||
|
It is late
And the clock is striking thin hours,
But sleep has become a terror to me,
Lest I wake in the night
Bewildered,
And stretching out my arms to comfort myself with you,
Clasp instead the cold body of the darkness.
All night it will hunger over me,
And push and undulate against me,
Breathing into my mouth
And passing long fingers through my drifting hair.
Only the dawn can loose me from it,
And the grey streaks of morning melt it from my side.
Bring many candles,
Though they stab my tired brain
And hurt it.
For I am afraid of the twining of the darkness
And dare not sleep.
|
||||
5. |
Venus Transiens
05:06
|
|||
|
Tell me,
Was Venus more beautiful
Than you are,
When she topped
The crinkled waves,
Drifting shoreward
On her plaited shell?
Was Botticelli`s vision
Fairer than mine;
And were the painted rosebuds
He tossed his lady,
Of better worth
Than the words I blow about you
To cover your too great loveliness
As with a gauze
of misted silver?
For me,
you stand poised
In the blue and buoyant air,
Cinctured by bright winds,
Treading the sunlight.
And the waves which precede you
Ripple and stir
The sands at my feet.
|
||||
6. |
September, 1918
02:25
|
|||
|
This afternoon was the colour of water falling through sunlight;
The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves,
And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows.
Under a tree in the park,
Two little boys, lying flat on their faces,
Were carefully gathering red berries
To put in a pasteboard box.
Some day there will be no war,
Then I shall take out this afternoon
And turn it in my fingers,
And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate,
And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves.
To-day I can only gather it
And put into my lunch-box,
For I have time for nothing
But the endeavour to balance myself
Upon a broken world.
|
||||
7. |
A Rainy Night
04:01
|
|||
|
Shadows,
And white, moving light,
And the snap and sparkle of rain on the window,
An electric lamp in the street
Is swinging, tossing,
Making the rain-runnelled window-glass
glitter and palpitate.
In its silver lustre
I can see the old four-post bed,
With the fringes and balls of its canopy.
You are laying beside me, waiting,
but I do not turn,
I am counting the folds of the canopy.
You are laying beside me, waiting,
but I do not turn.
In the silver light you would be too beautiful,
And there are ten pleats on this side of the bed canopy,
And ten on the other.
|
||||
8. |
Apology
04:23
|
|||
|
Be not angry with me that I bear
Your colours everywhere,
All through each crowded street,
And meet
The wonder-light in every eye,
As I go by.
Each plodding wayfarer looks up to gaze,
Blinded by rainbow haze,
The stuff of happiness,
No less,
Which wraps me in its glad-hued folds
Of peacock golds.
Before my feet the dusty, rough-paved way
Flushes beneath its gray.
My steps fall ringed with light,
So bright,
It seems a myriad suns are strown
About the town.
Around me is the sound of steepled bells,
And rich perfumed smells
Hang like a wind-forgotten cloud,
And shroud
Me from close contact with the world.
I dwell impearled.
You blazon me with jewelled insignia.
A flaming nebula
Rims in my life. And yet
You set
The word upon me, unconfessed
To go unguessed.
|
||||
9. |
Crépuscule Du Matin
04:22
|
|||
|
All night I wrestled with a memory
Which knocked insurgent at the gates of thought.
The crumbled wreck of years behind has wrought
Its disillusion; now I only cry
For peace, for power to forget the lie
Which hope too long has whispered. So I sought
The sleep which would not come, and night was fraught
With old emotions weeping silently.
I heard your voice again, and knew the things
Which you had promised proved an empty vaunt.
I felt your clinging hands while night's broad wings
Cherished our love in darkness. From the lawn
A sudden, quivering birdnote, like a taunt.
My arms held nothing but the empty dawn.
|
||||
10. |
Leisure
04:27
|
|||
|
Leisure, thou goddess of a bygone age,
When hours were long and days sufficed to hold
Wide-eyed delights and pleasures uncontrolled
By shortening moments, when no gaunt presage
Of undone duties, modern heritage,
Haunted our happy minds; must though withhold
Thy presence from this over-busy world,
And bearing silence with thee disengage
Our twined fortunes? Deeps of unhewn woods
Alone can cherish thee, alone possess
Thy quiet, teeming vigor. This our crime:
Not to have worshipped, marred by alien moods
That sole condition of all loveliness,
The dreaming lapse of slow, unmeasured time.
|
||||
If you like Sonja LaMar, you may also like:
In The Marigolds
by Jim Nothing
Slashing and hooky, this LP of guitar-driven pop is just as heavy on scuzzy riffs as it is on beatific harmonies.
go to album
Ephedrine EP
by Canadian Invasion
A trio of sunny, orchestral alt-rock songs from this Philadelphia group get a reissue 16 years after they were recorded.
go to album
Charming lo-fi pop music from pting that wreathes big, hooky melodies in constellations of guitar.
go to album
Colorblind///Sober
by Super Cassette
Two cuts from this Berkeley group pull out every stop in the pop playbook. Own it on floppy disk (really) if you’re feeling old-school.
go to album
Other Man's Blues
by Magic Trick
The latest from the Fresh & Onlys' Tim Cohen is full of woozy, melodic psych-pop. Available on orange & white vinyl.
go to album
Funny How Things Turn Out
by Feign Jima
Moody indie pop from Melbourne with melodies that drift by like a waking dream alongside feathery acoustic guitar.
go to album
Can't Escape the Feeling
by Jodie Nicholson
The new EP from Jodie Nicholson consists of four tender, soft-focus songs with rich piano, cradled by Nicholson’s gentle vocals.
go to album
