Tuesday, 30 November 2010

Joanna Newsom, "Easy"




* Joanna Newsom sounds like an enigmatic robin trapped in the webs of a harp.


His mistress rubbed his forehead gently, fingers drenched with oil balm.
His exhausted body planked down before her like a long-rooted tree under defeat.
The sound of humming mantras swerved with the smoke of a burnt-out candle.
"Just lay down and relax, my lord," he heard her said, "just take it easy."
His eyes blurred.

She took an odyssey to a foreign land with a rumbling hope of meeting her long-lost father,
but hope dusted away.
Loitering aimlessly on a street packed with esoteric hurly-burly,
she tried to put up the easy-breeziness by forcing down the mingled, nondescript feeling
While stomach still churned.

Dismissing love before disillusioning the pain without love,
the thought tumbled in her head along with the punishment of her imprudence.
Drawing up the curtains unconventional for a heavy nightfall,
she perched on the sill and waited patiently for the lights to come.

Trouble, weariness, loneliness, dejection,
we all loathe you and jerk you off like disease.
You scrape through the sky with traces of your lilting waltz resembling the aeroplane clouds,
under the eyes of the wary you seek for the next person to spawn on.
The world of idiotic easiness, you sneer.

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"Everybody has problems, but the thing is not to make a problem about your Problem."- Andy Warhol, The Philosophy of Andy Warhol

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