Lyric Obsessed Monday

Ok, this song has been in my head for the past few days. It's called Stork and Owl by TV on the Radio. It's about life and death, and trying to embrace the cycle of life (hint: stork = birth, owl = death omen). I think it's absolutely beautiful, especially for anyone who has ever questioned their spirituality. So, even though it's only the second post and I didn't want to put too many lyrics in here, I'm doing it. Enjoy.

Faceless fall from this life and ah,
If you can't see the stars
You've probably gone too far.
Like the voice that cried
On the lonesome tide,
Like the wave was
the only love it ever saw.

"What's this dying for?"
Asks the Stork that soars
With the Owl, high above,
Canyons mighty walls.
Owl said "Death's a door,
That love walks through.
In and out, in and out,
Back and forth, back and forth".

Turn from the fear,
Of the storms that might be.
Oh let it free
That caged on fire thing.
Oh hold its hands
It'll feel like lightening.
Oh in your arms safe
from the storms.

Sky bends. The moon's dress's slung low,
slung low.
Dogstar taught a dance
It goes, it goes, it goes, it goes, it goes, it goes, it goes.
Arms out, knees bend,
The motion flows.
Like the soft, open petals
Of a Jessica Rose.

So Sirius,
So it falls apart?
Just reveals the perfect nothing
Of everything you are,
Of everything we are!

Candle of life
Lights the blights and bruises.
Oh lay it down
In the night
Let it soothe this.
Oh hold its hands,
And we'll know what truth is.
Oh in its arms safe from the storms.

If you want to hear the song, here it is:

The Beginning

I am here to tell you about a passion that is spreading like venereal disease across the globe:

Word Love.

This means obsession, with written things, and severe annoyance with poorly written things, unless it makes us ROTFL or it happens to be the contents of this blog (I have my off days.....). I am writing to express my own personal word love and feature some particular pieces of writing that I enjoy. I am a complete lyrics junkie so.... sorry in advance.

To start us off, this is a poem by Brazillian poet Adelia Prado (it's translated btw), which is short and sweet and awesome.

The Impressionist

On one occasion,
my father painted the whole house
a brilliant orange.
we lived for a long time in the house
as he said himself,
eternally dawning.

Wordlove.

Sarah