zoetrope: (Default)
So today's PEDM entry is for a fandom that I know... ooh, a whole two other people in? Actually I don't think it really counts as a fandom.

But anyway, below is the link to Frank O'Hara, himself reading one of his poems. It's simply... wonderful to listen to, he's so charismatic and interesting, even through a bad recording forty years old.

Lana Turner Has Collapsed

Lana Turner has collapsed!
I was trotting along and suddenly
it started raining and snowing
and you said it was hailing
but hailing hits you on the head
hard so it was really snowing and
raining and I was in such a hurry
to meet you but the traffic
was acting exactly like the sky
and suddenly I see a headline
LANA TURNER HAS COLLAPSED!
there is no snow in Hollywood
there is no rain in California
I have been to lots of parties
and acted perfectly disgraceful
but I never actually collapsed
oh Lana Turner we love you get up




At Frank O'Hara.org you can hear more readings by Frank, and find a bunch of other wonderful stuff.

*giant fucking hearts*
zoetrope: (Default)
Poem (Keywords used in searches to get to my site)

the
drunk
breast
windshield
on
randomly
fluid
her
out
passed
squirts
hook
couch
prosthetic

*vbg*
zoetrope: (Default)
Last night I was reading Frank O'Hara - Poems Retrieved and this one letter he wrote really stuck out to me as being great relationship canon for John and Rodney. Yeah, I'm just that mushy.

Dear: The Letter

The reason I loved you from the first moment we met is because you seemed to hold a certain hostility towards me which I mistook for wisdom. I thought you really knew me instinctively, which is a laugh. But who's laughing?


That really seems to me a reason that John would like Rodney. He thinks Rodney sees through him.

(Oh, also, it just rocks. Frank really is the best.)
zoetrope: (Default)
Today, despite the fact that my super top secret project thing corrupted and I lost loads of work, has been good. Quiet and beautiful. Good fic, good music, good friends.

For you, therefore, I'm going to share my favourite song at the moment - courtesy [livejournal.com profile] 2am_optimism:

Hey Ya (acoustic cover) by Obadiah Parker

And, for fun, I'm going to make a poem out of your journal entries, because I haven't done it in ages and it's fun. The last one I did was in the style of Frank O'Hara. This one will be in the style of Pablo Neruda.

See if you can spot your own lyricism...

Song

Go out to the Gardens.

There's a lot of memories amongst some of those old things.
Their next wild pleasure, the decadence,
dark and realistic in my youthful state of deshabille.
Made of love, weak in the knees,
good, gentle, too desperate for finesse.

Those were good times:
a bowl of huge tart, ripe blackberries,
splitting it between us, we take each other for granted...
or just lay in bed and stare at the ceiling.

How much of sex is artifice and construction?
Or rather -- why don't I know these things?
Alive and uninjured, I will not let this fall behind again.
I feel I shall be back to 'normal' soon.

Who should I pass on my way through,
and watch him fight until dying?


Heh. That was amusing.

ETA - for those of you eagle-eyed enough to have spotted it, for some reason LJ decided that I was [livejournal.com profile] 2am_optimism and decided to post this as hers. But it's mine! I have no idea why it would do that when I was logged in and chose from my userpics etc. etc. Weird! Any ideas, C?

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