1. |
Basement Window
06:12
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Spent the summer indoors
Waking in the nights
Hiding from the rain
And the city lights
And when the marionette
Fell from the roof of the sky
We fixed ears to his head
And gave him cause to lie
Went down to the petrol station,
Bought a pack of chocolate biscuits
If there was a time for better decisions
I think I probably missed it
It was early morning now
I lay in bed
Wondering what I really knew about you
What I never did
No train runs through here
I never knew you
Won't say your name
Won't recognise you
When I smile at strangers
I smile politely
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2. |
Under The Earth
04:15
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Bright-vowel open-mouth forced-smile lusting-doubt backless-dress distress-replies white-sheet on-camera sung-account;
Blinded-prophet scales-in-hand October-birth reveal-demand I must confess it’s no walk in the park to lead and tail the marching band!
To hand is a thin man with points to his teeth,
And he stamps his toothpick heels against the darkening beneath!
In ram-tam trials and old mout whisper-feel backdoor deals under Oxford brogue feet!
If I could only fold my stomach into itself
Lie supine in bed for days until my skin becomes as malleable as putty and all unheavenly physicality departs from me
A big love wouldn’t fit a body like mine:
It must be a little love,
It shies away when the cars honk and hiss,
But adores the bells on the horse-tram.
Eight,
Nine,
Ten.
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3. |
Coruscate
04:18
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Water, risen in the East,
Engine of affusion,
Congregating endlessly.
Dreamer, woken from your rest,
Furnishing your bedroom,
Candle-light and ankle rings.
If god is in my head,
Where is god in my head?
If god is in my head,
Where is god in my head?
Brother, I'm sorry that I failed,
Cause you would have done better,
Managed what I never could.
I wish, that I was born with Grace,
With god's Noor within me,
With fire burning in my blood.
Surat-al-Kafirun,
Will you be my defense?
Surat-al-Kafirun,
Will you be my defense?
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4. |
My Folks
03:23
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A spiral of locusts
Rising up out of the elevator shaft
Through the metal latticework
There is no light in me
This is not a place where bright young hopefuls go to die
Father one day you and I will both find peace
In the milk-blind eyes of the music box gods.
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5. |
97
05:25
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The feet are down on the ground
The air is cold
The car is westward bound
The sun is setting pink and gold
The notions set about
Like leaves in fall
Fixed stubborn and still
As cave paintings on the wall
In my own time
In my own time
(Upon Cro-Patrick sang aloud)
In my own time
In my own time
(Float for a day above this world of sin)
Dark was the night
Deep was the sound
Airlines trembled at the sight
Heirloom heads sat round
Scratch on the advertising,
Pick a better place to die,
Spitting, fucking, rising,
Soaring, desecrating the sky
Alabaster, ivory walls,
That could pass for the clouds,
Your social curtain calls,
When you walk through the streets in shrouds.
In my own time
In my own time
(That muttered head to head)
In my own time
In my own time
(Your life can grow much sweeter if you will)
Dark was the night
Deep was the sound
Airlines trembled at the sight
Heirloom heads sat round
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6. |
Arbroath
04:41
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You'll sit preserved forever,
A study in perpetual youth;
What smoke signals against the dun-coloured sky
Profess that wisdom hides like pearls,
As though the trees protest or the earth asks why?
Come and learn, you bureaucrats of pure angelic leagues!
Beyond your angel souls lies what no man ever conceives!
From the moment to the moment all our lives are made of dreams,
And only when we step back do our stories stitch together at the seams.
Oh narcissistic impulse!
To seek self-realisation,
In what? In tied up lipids, peptides, twisting untwisting in wires, cables across floors that sometimes catch my stop-start steps.
But when the outside world bends in
Reaching your bed like dark hands from the past
And steals-
And stole-
And will remove from sight
Scrawled in diaries, dreams and at last, at last?
Know this, then:
These words mean nothing
Your death means nothing
Your grave is just an empty patch of grass
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7. |
Without Eyes
06:08
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My violet dress,
My fikr-e-farda,
I swear I'm trying.
Crude image of man,
Learns the finer art of dying.
Spine, thigh and breast,
Missive from above,
My face is painted.
Oh blood of my own,
Cast your judgement,
On a burnished throne.
I am naked, tired out,
No strength left in my voice, to shout.
Yellow paper, scrawled advice,
I tried to be better, once or twice.
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8. |
Maine
03:08
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When I stand under the sun I wear the crown of love,
But when the night is at its most quiet,
I can hear death, against my bedroom window,
Bathing my face in pale white light.
Wealth for culture heroes!
Medals for the dead!
The young must learn respect,
And when to bow their heads!
When I was younger I thought that the corporeal was a pyramid reaching up to god.
Burnished-steel-helmed and mire-shod
But there are faces in the floor which see the feet of man tread by,
Telegraphing all the being filling up and reaching out of me.
Splitting off the layers of the skin I live in,
He was not a nice man!
I got drunk and went to bed instead.
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9. |
Fishhead
05:07
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[Contenders (doggedly to circle round our driftwood/bracken beds)]: What does it take to grind our legacies down into dust and blood,
[Sowing fields with royal slips (read seeds),]
And what does only fury (pink and wild) buy for her daughters
You and I: Our dowry from the clinic bought us gifts to build our own ideas, our legacies of dust and blood and tablets under reconstructed gaping eyes; what other lies to mother and to father?
[Kate Keller (pouring lemonade)]: Recall you're still our daughter
[Clouds form over all the central belts that live within us, train track vessels, dendrites roads, the rain that reaches you and that which never will]
[Will (also Will)]: Arcady you will find in hell of all the places where you lay your head
[Lips (so suited to your own, or brushed by fingers after after sex)]: We'll never see inside each other but I don't think that I mind, our retinas are mirror images despite our separate lives and sometimes that's enough
[Contentments set aside
When early evening comes to haunt you with its question]
[Early Evening]: How much longer can you run for?
[Bread Baskets]: And to whom will you be turning? What anaesthetist will dull your aching heart and lungs, your failures cutting deep into your palmar arch, Granadan arch-door memories, cruel treacheries you tell yourself cannot be helped - so tell me then what silence buys?
The marketplace (with knowing eyes): What first words will be heard at that last wondrous time?
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10. |
Prana Ferox
03:52
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I went down to the basement
To check up on the sour mash
I looked down to the nonreactive ceramic tub
It was bubbling.
I had stirred up the dust on the stairs coming down.
I saw the dust devils swarming around.
Incoming sun beams cut them apart.
And I watched a shadow pass across my heart.
You were upstairs in the kitchen with your head against the sink.
Trying to cool down.
Trying to cool down.
I know you don't believe me but I could hear you breathing
I looked into the tub and there the mixture was seething
With new life.
New life all around.
I had stirred up the dust on the stairs coming down.
You were upstairs in the kitchen with your head against the sink.
Trying to cool down.
Trying to cool down.
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11. |
Song For King Arthur
06:13
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Evening came to Avalon, with a discontented sigh,
I stumbled over mud and loose rock, climbed up into the sky,
I stood beneath the ruined chapel, alone with the windswept stones,
The flat round table plateaus sprawling out, pock-marked with crag-toothed thrones.
I heard the birds up above, and the dogs in the distance,
Saw the sunlight above, offering its last resistance.
The city lit up, in brilliant pink,
Watched the day lingering on the brink.
Watched the moon rising up, out east over the North Sea,
Saw the lights over the Firth, islands in the bay and ships docked in the quay.
Followed the tourists down the rocky paths back home again
Saw your starry eyes peer from the heavens at the forests and the fens.
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12. |
Vernal Equinox
05:04
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This changing is too much
I look down when I lie
I shudder at your touch
I snivel when I cry
When will the bones migrate
I close my eyes and shrink
I lie in bed and wait
To live
(When does it get better?)
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