Dragonfly's Poetry & Prolixity: Lana Del Rey, Poet & Musician

Wednesday, October 28, 2020

Lana Del Rey, Poet & Musician

My newest obsession musically & poetically is Lana Del Rey. 💋 She’s a poet, first, then a musician, with a sultry, otherworldly voice as if she stepped out of the 1940’s. Her songs tell haunting stories. She recently published her first book of poetry: “Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass”.

This song comes from her new album, “Chemtrails Over the Country Club”, coming out soon.

LET ME LOVE YOU LIKE A WOMAN

Lana Del Rey

I come from a small town, how about you?
I only mention it ‘cause I’m ready to leave LA and I want you to come
Eighty miles north or south will do
I don’t care where as long as you’re with me
And I’m with you, and you let me

Let me love you like a woman
Let me hold you like a baby
Let me shine like a diamond
Let me be who I’m meant to be
Talk to me in poems and songs
Don’t make me be bittersweet
Let me love you like a woman
Let me hold you like a baby
Let me hold you like a baby

I come from a small town far away
I only mention it ‘cause I’m ready to leave LA and I want you to come
I guess I could manage if you stay
It’s just if you do I can’t see myself having any fun

So let me love you like a woman
Let me hold you like a baby
Let me shine like a diamond
Let me be who I’m meant to be
Talk to me in songs and poems
Don’t make me be bittersweet
Let me love you like a woman
Take you to infinity
Let me hold you like a baby
Take you to infinity
Let me love you like a woman
Take you to infinity

We could get lost in the purple rain
Talk about good old days
We could get high on pink champagne
Baby, let me count the waves

Let me love you like a woman
Let me hold you like a baby
Let me shine like a diamond
Let me be who I’m meant to be
Talk to me in songs and poems
Don’t make me be bittersweet
Let me love you like a woman.

**********

Lana Del Rey’s beautiful first book of poetry:

2 comments:

PhilipH said...: She has a lovely voice. Wasn't keen on the video but the song was good. Her "Young and Beautiful" is my favourite, courtesy YouTube.; October 28, 2020 at 3:23 PM
Marion said...: I like most of her songs...but this one happened to be the first one I heard. “Young and Beautiful” is awesome, too. I love “Ride” although the long version is a bit dark. Thanks for stopping by, Philip! xo 🌹; October 28, 2020 at 5:07 PM

I Love Lorrie Moore!!

“You’re not a poetess, I hope,” said the English geologist next to her. “We had a poetess here last month, and things got a bit dodgy here for the rest of us.”

“Really.” After the soup, there was risotto with squid ink.

“Yes. She kept referring to insects as ‘God’s typos’ and then she kept us all after dinner one evening so she could read from her poems, which seemed to consist primarily of the repeating line ‘the hairy kiwi of his balls.’”

From: “Birds of America” by Lorrie Moore, page 266, ‘Terrific Mother’

Miranda July's Best Book:

"Do you have doubts about life? Are you unsure if it is worth the trouble? Look at the sky: that is for you. Look at each person's face as you pass on the street: those faces are for you. And the street itself, and the ground under the street, and the ball of fire underneath the ground: all these things are for you. They are as much for you as they are for other people. Remember this when you wake up in the morning and think you have nothing. Stand up and face the east. Now praise the sky and praise the light within each person under the sky. It's okay to be unsure. But praise, praise, praise." From: "No One Belongs Here More Than You Stories by Miranda July", Page 11

A Dreamy, Drug of a Book

"The minute you land in New Orleans, something wet and dark leaps on you and starts humping you like a swamp dog in heat, and the only way to get that aspect of New Orleans off you is to eat it off. That means beignets and crayfish bisque and jambalaya, it means shrimp remoulade, pecan pie and red beans with rice, it means elegant pompano au papillote, funky file z'herbes, and raw oysters by the dozen, it means grillades for breakfast, a po' boy with chowchow at bedtime, and tubs of gumbo in between. It is not unusual for a visitor to the city to gain fifteen pounds in a week---yet the alternative is a whole lot worse. If you don't eat night and day, if you don't constantly funnel the indigenous flavors into your bloodstream, then the mystery beast will go right on humping you, and you will feel its sordid presence rubbing against you long after you have left town." ~Tom Robbins, "Jitterbug Perfume", page 240