i. Eyewitness
Still waiting for my saviour,
storms tear me limb from limb;
my fingers feel like seaweed...
I`m so far out I`m too far in.
I am a lonely man...my solitude is true
my eyes have borne stark witness
and now my knights are numbered too.
I`ve
seen the smiles on dead hands--
the stars shine, but they`re not for me.
I prophesy disaster and then I count the cost....
I shine but, shining, dying,
I know that I am almost lost.
On the table lies blank paper/my tower is built on stone/
I only have blunt scissors/I only have the bluntest home....
I`ve been the witness, and the seal of death
lingers in the molten wax that is my head.
When you see the skeletons of sailing-ship spars sinking low
You`ll begin to wonder if the points of all the ancient myths
are solemnly directed straight at
you...
ii. Pictures/Lighthouse
(Eddies/rocks/ships/collision/remorse.)
iii. Eyewitness
No time now for contrition:
the time for that`s long past.
The walls are thin as tissue
and if I talk I`ll crack the glass.
So I only think on how it might have been,
locked in silent monologue, in silent scream
Anyway, I`m much too tired to speak
and, as the waves crash on the bleak
stones of the tower, I start to freak....
...and find that I am overcome...
iv. S.H.M.
`Unreal, unreal!` ghost helmsmen scream
and fall in through the sky,
not breaking through my seagull shrieks...
no breaks until I die:
the spectres scratch on window-slits--
hollowed faces, mindless grins
only intent on destroying what they`ve lost.
I craw the wall till steepness ends in the vertical fall;
my pail has sailed into the sea: no joking hopes at dawn.
White bone shine in the iron-jaw mask
lost mastheads pierce the freezing dark
and parallel my isolated tower....
no paraffin for the
flame
no harbour left to gain
v. The Presence of the Night/Kosmos Tours
`Alone, alone,` the ghosts all call,
pinpoint me in the light.
The only life I feel at all
is the presence of the night.
Would you cry if I died?
Would you cry if I died?
Would you catch the final words of mine?
Would you catch my words?
I know that there`s no time
I know that there`s no rhyme...
false signs find me
I don`t want to hate,
I just want to grow;
why can`t I let me
live and be free?..but I die very slowly alone.
I know no more ways,
I am so afraid,
myself won`t let me
just be myself and so I am completely alone....
The maelstrom of my memory
is a vampire and it feeds on me
now, staggering madly, over the brink I
fall.
vi. (Custard`s) Last Stand
Lighthouses might house the key
but can I reach the door?
I want to walk on the sea
so that I may better find ashore...
but how can I ever keep my feet dry?
I scan the horizon
I must keep my eyes on all parts of me.
Looking back on the years
it seems that I have lost
the way:
Like a dog in the night, I have run to a manger
...now I am the stranger I stay in.
All of the grief I have seen
leaves me chasing solitary peace;
but I hold experience in my head....
I`m too close to the light
I don`t think I see right, for I blind me....
vii. The Clot Thickens
WHERE is the God that guides my hand?
HOW can the hands of others reach me?
WHEN will I find what I grope for?
WHO is going to teach me?
I am me/me are we/we can`t see
any way out of here.
Crashing sea/atrophied history:
Chance has lost my Guinevere....
I don`t want to be one wave in the water
But sea will drag me deep
One more haggard DROWNED MAN...
I can see the Lemmings coming, but I know I`m just a man;
Do I join or do I founder? Which can is the best I may?
viii. Land`s End (Sineline)/We Go Now
Oceans drifting sideways, I am pulled into the spell;
I feel you around me...I know you well.
Stars slice horizons where the lines stand much too stark;
I feel I am drowning...hands stretch in the dark.
Camps of panoply and majesty, what is Freedom of Choice?
Where do I stand in the pageantry...whose is my voice?
It doesn`t feel so very bad now: I think the end is the start.
Begin to feel very glad now:
ALL THINGS ARE A PART
ALL THINGS ARE APART
ALL THINGS ARE A PART.
