Disembodied Poetics

[bummersummer 2,218]

I stumbled on this about two and a half years ago and have a ridiculously long and almost creepily thorough megapost detailing all of this I need to finish editing. They're poems written about her by an online admirer/acquaintance of hers named Chris Cole. Although he was clearly smitten with her, it doesn't appear they were ever more than friends. I've been in contact with him and will post more about this after following up on one thing with him.

 

Edit: At the time I also looked into the question of who inspired who, and except for the possibility that he may have introduced her to Walt Whitman's poem "I Sing the Body Electric", and perhaps the Arthur/Marilyn theme from "Puppy Love", it appears her lyrics and DIY videos predate all his references to them.

 

did you ever post that megapost somewhere, maybe in the lanalysis thread?

 

he just posted another poem after being MIA for almost a year and what with her poetry book being released soon, i wonder if he's still an inspiration for her or someone who had any input on her poems

 

EDIT: also, check the editorial reviews section of his novel & the book cover

[urgirl 5,744]

wow he is so in love with her. I found these poems from 2015 that I think are about lana  ( I WANT TO PUT THEM IN SPOILERS BUT IDK HOW:/ )

 

1 (definitely about lana, marked "for LDR"

 

 

twilight radio (for ldr)

you don't have to believe anymore

it's all come true

your years

spent as a sinner

let you know what it means to be a saint

and you've rolled seven

so many times

on those street corners

those streets

that walk by themselves

and no one can count that high

you let the devil in

just so you could see what he's all about

and you found out

he wasn't enough

there are roads

that they forgot to name

and jimmy and elvis and chet

they know who you are

and when your songs come up

on that twilight radio

in that old convertible

they stop talking

and just listen

they forget

that those are stars up there

in the desert sky

on that forgotten highway

where they roll

they forget

for that five minutes

that there is such a thing

as death

or life

because there is neither

there is both

there is you

running away from home

just so you could find a way back

there is you

being hustled

there is you

learning the wrong way

because that's how you find out

what's right

they say one day at a time

because there is only one day

they tell you to give yourself

to a higher power

but there isn't a higher power

than yourself

and that's why it's so hard

you have to find god

in the most unlikely of places

you aren't looking for the light

you are the light

 

2 (marked "for LG" -  Lizzy Grant?)

 

 

i fell in love today

no big deal

it's happened before

i don’t even know her

but she is the soundtrack to my life

if i was just that cool

i could be her arthur miller

and maybe 

it would last this time

but the hipsters 

are lining the streets of williamsburg 

with getaway cars

they lay ironic roses at her feet 

and write love letters in sanskrit

making out checks 

in time 

to the beat of her heart

and they can’t fucking dance

doesn’t matter

the agents 

and their agents 

and their dates 

got that shit locked down

and she is thousands of blacktop miles away

but i just keep saying

over

and over

who

are

you

how can you just appear 

and hold that much weight

on a seven story mattress

and your voice

that would have driven jack and dean

off the road

(for lg)

 

3 (note the part about being a trapeze artist and not a poet. doesn't she call herself a trapeze artist in one of her old myspace descriptions?)

 

 

they say you can’t sing

but i’ve heard you do it

they say they don’t understand 

what those words mean

even though they mean

exactly what they say

maybe they just don’t understand 

what it means to them

it’s hard to write about yourself

and even harder to read about yourself

words that get lost

as you try to find the right ones

but you always left the right ones out

which made it easy

which made it all make sense

which made them move across the page

off the record

into the next room

and then it was like overhearing someone

talk about you

and i would press my ear up 

against the door

and crack it just a bit

so that i could find out what they were saying

what you were saying

what i was thinking

when i heard you for the first time

talking with god

about me

about “the ghost of electricity 

that howled in the bones of her face”

and you said

“i don’t call myself a poet

because I don’t like the word

i'm a trapeze artist"

and even though you're still in the air

you really stuck that landing

 

4 (FROM MAY 23 THIS YEAR RIGHT AFTER LANAS CONTROVERSY!!!!)

 

it’s this morning

that matters

more than the matters

we are mourning

these masks that we wear

on top of the masks 

we have been wearing

since 2010

since 1910

since you asked about that apple 

ever since that day that you realized

there was a price to pay 

for showing who you are

we are each other

and not in a campaign ad

or self help kind of way

we are each other

in a terrifying and liberating way

in a way that surgically removes

the comfort of the blanket 

that you thought was keeping you warm

in a way that makes every picture you take

a selfie

no one wants to see themselves 

and they definitely don’t want to see themselves

in someone else

not now

not then

we don’t want it but we need it

it used to be we stoned you for saying these kind of things

until we realized no press is bad press

now we just blow up your timeline

and feed you to the bots

we don’t undermine you

we undermine your message

we call you by the names that were handed out at the beginning of class

to wear on your sleeve for the rest of your life

hedge fund manager

homeless architect

housewife

snowflake

fascist

we make sure we are on the same team as our parents

and their parents

we have our playbook

and know when to pull the cord

we mow the edges of our lawn

until they are sharp enough to cut

we arm ourselves with whatever we think

will protect us from the truth

we build our walls

high enough that they won’t realize we’re even there

high enough

that we will never escape

and when we are sure we’ve sealed every breach 

we gaze into the void of our screens and mirrors

trying not to look at the reflection

trying not to notice we haven’t locked anyone out

trying not to realize we’ve trapped the whole world in our home

quarantined now

with the whole universe

in the roofs of our mouths

 

 

[lili 3,175]

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