Violet Bent Backwards Over The Grass podcast cover art

Violet Bent Backwards Over The Grass

ByLana Del Rey
14 episodes

Podcast Summary

Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass is the title of the first audiobook of poetry by Lana Del Rey. It is the first audiobook written and read by Del Rey. The audiobook was released digitally on July 28, 2020, by Polydor and Interscope Records, and physical copies were released on September 29, 2020.

#1

Bare Feet on Linoleum

Stay on your path Sylvia Plathdon't fall away like all the othersDon't take all your secrets alone to your watery grave aboutlovers and motherThe secrets you keep will keep you in deep like Father and Amyand brotherAnd all of the people you meet on the street will reiterate liesthat she utteredLeave me in peace I cryIn the middle of the night on a slow boat bound for Catalina for no reasonTiny beads of perspiration dot my foreheadcould be mistaken for dew drops if this were photo seasonBut alas this is a real life - and it's been a real fight just tostop my mind from committing treason.Why you ask?Because she told the townspeople I was crazy, and the lies, theystarted to believe themBut anyway - that's all over nowI've moved on, gone scorched earthAnd now I'm left wondering where to go from hereTo Sonoma where the fires have just left?South Dakota?Would standing in front of Mount Rushmore feel like the GreatAmerican homecoming I never had?Would the magnitude of the scale of the sculpture take the placeof the warm embrace I've never known.Or should I just be here nowIn the kitchenBare feet on linoleumBored - but not unhappyCutting vegetables over boiling water that I will later turninto stew

2023-09-222mins
#2

Paradise is Very Fragile

Paradise is very fragile,and it seems like it’s only getting worseDown here in FloridaWe’re fighting red toxic tidesMass of fish killsNot to mention hurricanes and rising sea levelsBack in Los Angeles, things aren’t looking much betterMy treehouse that’d been standing for 60 years succumbed to the Woolsey firesWho would’ve thought that this year at 33You would’ve been taken out from under meAfter all those yearsBuilt from the ground up, by hand, by your very first ownerQuiet world war one, aviation pilotI tried to save you but the horses and the german shepherds were more importantParadise is very fragile,and it seems like it’s only getting worseOur leader is a megalomaniac,And we’ve seen that beforeBut never because it was what the country deservedMy friends tell me to stop calling 911 on the culture,but it’s either that or I 5150 myselfThey don’t understandI’m a dreamerAnd I had big dreams for the countryNot for what it could do, but how it could feelHow it could think, how it could dreamI knowWho am I to dream for you?It’s just that in my own mindI was born with a little bit of paradiseI was lucky in that wayNot like my husbandWho was born and raised in hellI always had something gentle to giveAll of me, in factIt’s one of the beautiful things about meIt’s one of the beautiful things about natureBut lately I’ve been thinking that I wishSomeone had told me when I was youngerMore about the inhabitants that thrive off of paradiseThat should they take too much,There would be nothing left to giveNot everyone’s nature is golden and greenAnd you can’t fight what’s in your natureI got to thinking about it asWe were fighting the fires in AgoraBut I’m tired of fighting youParadise is very fragile,and it seems like it’s only getting worseAnd every time I think of that,I think about the curse bestowed upon Eve, that fateful eve,She took that bite of fruit from that fruitful tree.And this summer night, you in front of me,Makes me contemplate the origins of good and evilBec...

2023-09-223mins
#3

My Bedroom is a Sacred Place Now - There Are Children at the Foot of my Bed

Last year, when I wrote you my last letterthe beginning of my future poetryI acknowledged who you really were for the first timeI didn’t call you by any other nameI let you know that I knew the true nature of your heartThat it was evil, and that it convinced me that darkness was realthat the devil is a real deviland that monsters don’t always know that they’re monstersBut projection is an amazing thingafter you left and burnt the house downyou tried to convince me that it was I who was holding the matchesYou told me that I didn’t know who I was, but I doI love rose gardensI plant violets every time someone leaves meI love the great sequoias of YosemiteAnd if you asked my sister to describe the first thing she thinks of when she thinks of meshe would say camp fire smokeI’m gentleI’m funny when I’m drunkBut I haven’t been drunk for 14 yearsI go on trips with my friends to the beach who don’t know that I’m crazyI can do thatI can do anythingEven leave youBecause my bedroom is a sacred place now that there are children at the end of my bedtelling me stories about the friends that they pretend to hate, that they will make up with laterAnd there are fresh cut flowers that I grew myself in vases from the yard on nightstands, hand carved by old pals from Big SurAnd the longer I stay herethe more I am surethat the more I step into becoming a poetThe less I will fall into being with youThe more I step into my poetryThe less I will fall into bed with you

2023-09-222mins
#4

Happy

You thought i was rich and i am but not how you thinkI live in a tudor house under the freeway in Mar Vista by the beachwhen you call i take my phone outside to the picnic tablethat i bought from the Rose Bowland i listen to the rushing cars aboveand i think about the last time you visited methe last time we made lovehow the noise got louder and louder during rush hourand it felt like the ocean was the skyand that i was flying because you were two feet taller than meuntil you took me in your armsand i could touch the starsand they all fell down around my headand i became and angeland you put me to bedhappyPeople think that i'm rich and i am but not how they thinki have a truck with a gold key chain in the ignitionand on the back it says: happy joyous and freehappyand when i drivei think about the last time my friends were driving with mehow the radio was so loud that we couldn't hear the wordsso we became the musichappyThey write that i'm rich and i am but not how they thinki have a safe i call the boyfriend boxand in it every saved receiptevery movie theater ticket just to remind meof all the things i've loved and lost and love againunconditionallyYou joke that i'm rich and i am but not how you thinki live in a tudor house under the freewayoff of Rose Avenue 12 blocks from the beachand when you call i put your sweater onand put you on speakerand chat for hours underneath the treesand think about the last time you were here lying next to mehow the noise from the cars got louder and louderduring rush houruntil it sounded like a river or a streamand it felt like we were swimmingbut it wasn't just a dreamwe were justhappy

2023-09-222mins
#5

What happened when I left you

Perfect petals punctuate the fabrics yellow bluesilver platters with strawberries strewn across the roomIn Zimmerman with sandals on one summer dress to chooseThree girlseyes rolledloud laughterdust specs lit by afternoonMy life is sweet like lemonade now there's no bitter fruiteternal sunshine of the spotless mindno thought of youMy thoughts have changedmy voice is highernow I'm over youNo flickering in my head moviesprojected in BellevueBecause I captured the mood of my wish fulfilledand sailed to XanaduThe grief that came in waves that rolled I navigated throughThe fire from my wish as wind to future trip to Malibunow everything I have is perfectnothing much to dojust perfect floralsgreen embroidered chairsone dress to choose

2023-09-221mins
#6

Quiet Waiter Blue Forever

You move like water sweet baby sweet waitermaking the night smile to no one you catersilent wood worker from midnight till latermy lover my laughter my armor my makerThe way that i feel with you is something like achinginside of my stomach the cosmos are bakinga universe hung like a mobilethe alignment of these planets uniquein me the earth moves around the sunno land all seawater worldsun chasertropic of cancersouthern equateri'm the crying crustaceansunbathing on papermoon.Let's rewrite the beginning of this primordial oozeshall we my loveAm i being brazen for saying this year makes me feellike we could've wrote it betterthan him?But who am ijust a girl in love dreaming on paperrearranging the salt for the pepperin love with youmy quiet waiterSummerblueForevercall me when you're done with worki'll pick you up laterthe darker the betterfive after midnightthe darker the better

2023-09-221mins
#7

Tessa Dipietro

No one ever touched me without wanting to kill meExcept for a healer on 6th street in RidgelyTessa DiPietro,recommended casually by a medium I no longer knowShe said my number one problem was that my field was untrustingWhen asked what to do, she paused and said “Nothing”Which sent me right into uncontrollable sobbingBecause there’s never anything you can do about the important thingsShe said “Okay, one thing you can do is picture the floor rising up to support you,And sink into the back of the bed that’s behind youToo much of your energy is in front and above you”Which, for some reason, made me think of a live show I’d seenJim Morrison at the Hollywood Bowl, 1968, check dateThe blue trellis lights gave him an unusual auraLike a halo or somethingMade him 8 feet or tallerI remember just thinking he looked out of his bodybut definitely like a god on stageSo I told her “Maybe an artist has to function a little bit above themselves,If they really want to transmit some heaven”And she told me"A singleness of focus is the key to transmission,For an emphasis on developing inner intuition,Close your eyes and feel where you hold your attentionIf it’s in the back of your eyesWalk it down to your heart’s centreand make that the new place from which your thoughts enterClairvoyance comes mostly from this simple functionOh - and Jim died at 27So find another frame of referenceWhen you’re referencing heavenAnd have you ever read the lyrics to ‘People are Strange’?He made no sense!"

2023-09-222mins
#8

Sportcruiser

I took a flying lesson on my 33rd birthday instead of calling youor parking on the block where our old place used to beGeneseeGeneseeGeneseePathetic I know, but sometimes I still like to park on that streetand have lunch in the car just to feel close to you.I was once in love with my life herein that studio apartment with youlittle yellow flowers on the tops of trees as our only viewout of the only window- big enough for me to see our futurethrough.But it turned out I was the only one who could see it.Stupid apartment complex. Terrible you. You who i wait forYouYouYouLike a broken record stuck on loop.So that day on my birthday i thought something has to change,it can’t always be about waiting for uDon’t tell anyone butpart of my reasoning for taking the flight class was this ideathat if I could become my own navigator- the captain of the skythat perhaps I could stop looking for direction- from you.Well, what started off as an idea on a whim has turned intosomething more. Too shy to explain to the owners that my firstlesson was just a one time thing. I’ve continued to go to classeseach week. At the precious little strip off of Santa Monicaand Bundy.And everything was going fine we were starting with dips andloops. And then something terrible happened-during my fourth lesson in the sky, my instructor-younger than i but tough as you- instructed me to do asimple maneuver. It’s not that i didn’t do it but i wasslow to lean the SportCruiser into a right hand upward turn.Scared, scared that i would lose control of the planeNot tactfully and not gently the instructor shook his headand without looking at me said, “you don’t trust yourself.”I was horrified. Feeling as though I’d somehow been found out.Like he knew me- how weak i wasOf course he was only talking about my ability as a pilotin the sky. But i knew it was meant for me to hear those words.for me they held a deeper meaning.I didn’t trust myselfnot just 2500 ft above the coast of Malibubut with anything. And i di...

2023-09-226mins

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#9

Never to Heaven

May my eyes always stay level to the horizonmay they never gaze as high as heavento ask whyMay I never go where angels fear to treadso as to have to ask for answers in the skyThe whys in this lifetime i've found are inconsequentialcompared to the magic of the nowness- the solution to mostquestionsthere are no reasons.and if there are- i'm wrongbut at least i won't have spent my life waitinglooking for God in the clouds of the dawnor listening out for otherwordly contact30 billion light years onNo. i'll let the others do the ponderingwhile i'll be sitting on the lawnreadin something unsubstantialwith the television onI'll be up early to rise though of course-but only to make you a pot of coffeeThat's what i was thinking this morning Joethat it's times like this as the marine layer liftsoff the sea from the view of our favorite restaurantthat i pray that i mayalways keep my eyes level to your eyelinenever downcast at the table clothYou see, Joeit's times like this that the marine layer liftsoff the sea on the dock with out candle litthat i think to myselfthere are things you still don't know about melike sometimes i'm afraid my sadness is too bigand that one day you might have to help me handle itbut until thenmay i always keep my eyes level to this skylineassessing the glittering new developmentoff of the coast of Long Beachnever to heaven or revenantBecause i have faith in man as strange as that seemsin times like theseand it's not just because of the warmth i've found in yourbrown eyesbut because i believe in the goodness in methat it's firm enough to plant a flag inor arosebudor to build a new life.

2023-09-222mins
#10

Salamander

Get out of my blood, salamander!I can’t seem to blow off enough steam to get you out of my headSoul cycle you to death, run you out of my blood to San PedroAnd yet, everywhere I go, it seems there you are,And there I amI don’t want to sell my stories anymore, stop pushing meSome stories aren’t meant to be soldSome words aren’t meant to be toldI want to leave them underneath the nightstand to be forgottenor remembered should my thoughts come upon them in the middle of the night after a long beach dayOr by you, some afternoon, to thumb through with your warm warm after-work handsI love you, but you don’t understand me, I’m a real poet!My life is my poetry, my love making is my legacy!My thoughts are about nothing, and beautiful, and for freeYou see, the things that can’t be bought can’t be evaluated, and that makes them beyond human reachUntouchable, safe, otherworldyUnable to be deciphered or metabolizedSomething metaphysical,like a view of the sea on a summer day on the most perfect winding road taken in from the car windowA thing perfect, and ready to become a part of the texture of the fabric of something more etherealLike Mount Olympus, where Zeus sent Athena and the rest of the immortals play.

2023-09-221mins
#11

Past the Bushes Cypress Thriving

I saw you in the mirroryou were wearing your hair differentlycarrying the air differentlyYou said you wear your hair long parted in the middleLong in solidarity just like all his womenIn Long BeachAimlessyour fingers wiping oil on the paper w precisionwith decision like an artist never seen yet with a visionWith a reasonStared with venom at the ceilingnot the grassbut straight aheadJust At the skylinewith precisionlaser vision time was stoppingmoving through u.U dictatedby what moved uonly moving never thinkingMath the sun that’s slowly sinkingat the height of the afternoonIn the heat of the summer eveningLike a phoenix like a chemtrail like a wavelengthNo one’s claiming Georgia O' KeeffeeGeorgia peachesDoing nothing but your paintingFor foreverForget teachersForgive him for ever leavinglove is risingNo resistingcheeks are flushingNow you’re livingSay goodbye nowno resistingLive your life likeno ones listeningBe the art the life is breathingBe the soul the world is living.For you onlyNot for givingJust for takingNo ones listeningat the end of the Lime and 10th street down the road that’s greenand windingPast the bushes cypress thriving past the chainlink fenceand drivingfurther down the road less travelledthere u are athleisure wear unraveledNow I see you clearStanding stoic blue and denimeyes not blue but clear likeheavenyou don’t want to be forgottenYou just want to disappear

2023-09-221mins
#12

Violet Bent Backwards over the Grass

I went to a partyI came in hotMade decisions beforehandMy mind made upThings that would make me happyTo do them or notEach option weighed carefullyA plan for each thoughtAnd then I walked through the door past the open conceptAnd saw Violet bent backwards over the grassSeven years old with dandelions grasped tightly in her handArched like a bridge in a fallen handstandGrinning wildly like a madmanWith the exuberance that only doing nothing can bringWaiting for the fireworks to beginAnd in that moment I decided to do nothing about everything

2023-09-221mins
#13

The Land of 1,000 Fires

Two blue steel trains run through the tunnels of your cool blue steel eyesVernonRock quarryThe vastness of which has nothing on my beautiful mindDylanI hear Dylan when I look at youI can see it on my arm in invisible ink like a tattooThe yin to my yangthe toughness to my unending softnessA striking example of masculinityFirm in your verticalitySure in your confrontation against all elementsand dualityThe sun to my wilting daisyThe earth to the wildflower that doesn't care where it growsVernoneverything's burnt herethere's no escaping itthe air is fried and on fireI've never really fallen in lovebut whatever this feeling isi wish everyone could experience itthis place feels like a personfamiliarlike someone i've stood next to beforebut never while i was standing next to youThank youfor being herefor bearing witness to my vastnessThrough the year I've called you in and out of my orbitYou, in your madnessThe satellite that's constellating my worldMimicking the inner chaos that i've disownedA mirror to my past life retributionsAnd a reflection of my sadnessIf i'm going to keep on living the way that i'm livingi cant do it without you.My feet aren't on the groundi need your body to stand onyour name to define meon top of being a womani am scaredandetherealandthere are seven worlds in my eyesi'm accessing of all them onceone to draw my words and my musesanother one i try and harness late at night that lies somewhereoff of the right of Jupiterand then of course there's this one i live inthe land of 1000 firesthat's where you come inYouVernonDylanTwo blue steel trainsrunning through the tunnels of yourcool blue steel eyesto guide me far from the world of my early daysthat i cant quite make out clearlythat beckon me towards high sea cliffson long car ridestowards a future placea world unknown to memade up of something surreal and drippingFlowers in solar systems OversizedYou Vernon Dylanno words needed to sponge up thedark nightsno explanations for the globes in my eyessh...

2023-09-224mins
#14

LA Who Am I to Love You

I left my city for San FranciscoTook a free ride off a billionaire's jetL.A, I'm from nowhere, who am I to love you?L.A, I've got nothing, who am I to love you when I'm feeling this way and I've got nothing to offer?L.A, not quite the city that never sleepsNot quite the city that wakes, but the city that dreams, for sureIf by dreams you mean in nightmaresL.A, I'm a dreamer, but I'm from nowhere, who am I to dream?L.A, I'm upset, I have complaints, listen to meThey say I came from money and I didn't, and I didn't even have love, and it's unfairL.A, I sold my life rights for a big checks and I'm upsetAnd now I can't sleep at night and I don't know whyPlus, I love Saks, so why did I do that when I know it won't last?L.A, I picked San Francisco because the man who doesn't love me lives thereL.A, I'm pathetic, but so are you, can I come home now?Daughter to no one, table for oneParty of thousands of people I don't know at Delilah where my ex-husband worksI'm sick of this, but can I come home now?Mother to no one, private jet for oneBack home to the Tudor house that borned a thousand murder plotsHancock Park, it's treated me very badly, I'm resentfulThe witch on the corner, the neighbor nobody wantedThe reason for Garcetti's extra securityL.A, I know I'm bad, but I have nowhere else to go, can I come home now?I never had a mother, will you let me make the sun my own for now, and the ocean my son?I'm quite good at tending to things despite my upbringing, can I raise your mountains?I promise to keep them greener, make them my daughters, teach them about fire, warn them about waterI'm lonely, L.A, can I come home now?I left my city for San FranciscoAnd I'm writing from the Golden Gate BridgeBut it's not going as I plannedI took a free ride off a billionaire and brought my typewriter and promised myself that I would stay butIt's just not going the way that I thoughtIt's not that I feel different, and I don't mind that it's not hotIt's just that I belong to no one, which me...

2023-09-225mins