1. |
Drone Kid
03:59
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I will buffer,
I will insulate,
I’ll drown out all the screaming
And the oscillating
fear.
Drone: beating bone, tidal moan,
the thrumming of a hammered stone.
I will mute
I will numb
I’ll dampen resonating sounds
That overcrowd the bell dome
Drone: dying groan, ear drums blown,
The whirling of a cyclone.
I surrender,
I am mute.
I am prostrate.
I succumb,
I am so numb
I will resonate.
I am matter
I vibrate
Strike me
I’ll reverberate:
Alone
In my drone,
I’m alone
with my drone.
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2. |
Children
04:17
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They were /only children
Playing at / the world
They had / barely made their marks
Before they were wiped away.
A world of fragile structure
That burned beyond the edges
Made in collusion with
The thrilling surge of youthful fire.
I will listen to the symphonies they never got to write.
And I’ll fall in love with characters their beautiful minds devised.
I’ll watch the movements of their ghosts as they embrace their freedom
A pirouette of memory and tragedy.
To find yourself / so briefly
To lose yourself / completely
The fireworks / of life
Burn bright but they burn brief.
A world of fragile structure
That burned beyond the edges
Made in collusion with
The thrilling surge of youthful fire.
I will listen to the symphonies they never got to write
And I’ll fall in love with characters their beautiful minds devised.
I’ll watch the movements of their ghosts as they embrace their freedom -
a pirouette of memory and tragedy.
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3. |
People in Rooms
05:34
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When storm Arwen comes
And the tree falls down
On all of those badly stacked
Memories.
When the lights go down
And the ice creeps in
And strokes your reddening
Cheeks.
There’s just
People in rooms
Trying to be happy.
I’d like to go to the
Songbird garden
in your mind
Nothing matters out there;
The snow settles down,
Shaking off the angst of
The Summer.
We are DNA.
Polynucleotide chains.
There is comfort in these
Bonds.
The fire draws us near;
The flame blackens bread.
We eat under fading
Lightbulbs.
We huddle to feel
All the warmth we have left:
The vitality of the
human soul.
And so it seems
That all is dark.
This temporary
Veneer
Is so easily
Forgotten.
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4. |
Bent Akimbo
05:42
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We were driving towards the rising sun
On the day that you were born.
I was blinded:
I could see that I was over.
I could see that I was done.
(Rewinding towards my obscure beginning)
Oh, bent akimbo
Feet in hands
Swallowing whole
My own conception
When you came out screaming
My purpose was laid bare for me.
This vessel is meaningless.
This vassal of seemlessness
(Just a servant to survival)
Oh, bent akimbo
Feet in hands
Swallowing whole
My own conception
You can see the poetry in spreadsheets
I’ll scrape my music on the walls of empty cells.
What is this,
Some sort of metamorphosis?
My fictional character,
My protagonist?
Or just the devour of a superior power?
I wrote you into existence
In a fabricated land.
Now you can erase me
And repopulate my traces of my hand.
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5. |
Incantation Dance
04:40
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Move your feet all mummery flair
Spiral ribbons through the air.
You are connotations;
You are your denote.
Movement is your meaning;
Gesture is your boast.
M-m-move your words in shape.
Pose and dictate. Stance through embrace.
M-m-move your words in shape.
Stand up and state. Physically enunciate.
Shift your feet kaleidoscope
Hips and bipps and gyroscope.
Your are definitions;
You are ascertain.
Inference through motion
Revolution through strain.
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6. |
Damaged Utensils
04:34
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In this house, we eat with damaged utensils
- Buckled forks, contorted spoons - and
the food often doesn’t reach our mouths.
The animals are glad of the morsels.
Always when we dine now, we use broken crockery:
the images chipped and faded to ghosts
carrying water across bridges and farm animals with elongated bodies and pensive expressions.
She is not here, darling.
She is not here, darling.
She shall come tomorrow.
She has taken flight,
straight out through the window.
Straight out through the window - starling, starling.
We must feed the birds now - winter is a killer.
Seeds and lard. Seeds and lard. The birds are our future.
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7. |
Superlyfe
04:39
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There are four materials of lyfe:
1. It draws on energy
2. It grows exponentially
3. It can regulate itself to stay stable
4. It learns and remembers information
Alyve! Alyve! Superlyfe!
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8. |
I Will Feel You Better
06:05
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For the purpose of healing we are
Under the gaze of one another.
For gathering together
We dream isolation dreams.
Sat beneath bright halos,
we are hooded and smothered.
The shadows are rising;
The water will drown out the light.
I may not be pure ballast;
My foundations they may crumble too
But if you find yourself adrift
I will feel you better.
But do not pen and ink, Calligraphy,
write curlicue love poetry.
And do not pen bland balladry.
The empty words won’t leave a scar.
And do not paint those abstract lines
that trace the route to broken times.
And do not shape regret in clay.
The form of it is poison.
Whatever cynics will dictate;
however your anxieties will suffocate;
Whoever lashes with their thorn bush lies:
I will feel you better.
Whatever criticisms that are borne;
and judgements that are misinformed;
Whichever empty friends have turned away:
I will feel you better.
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9. |
The More You Scratch
04:24
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10. |
Answering Back
05:41
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It was only after departure
that we could see you clear.
Finally a man emerged.
The film of your decay was pulled away.
A good man who was always there.
Running up hills
And answering back,
Drawing lines beneath words
because they mattered.
You cannot hold two versions
of a person in one mind.
You cannot peel away decay
to find them in their prime.
Until that gasp of freedom,
Until they become the sky.
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11. |
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Drawn to an image of being.
Styled to a vision of what it could be.
Tearing at scraps of magazine glamour
Collaging facets of me.
Saint-made, hot pink, burning
the box of beautiful things.
Chainsaw sculpture imaginings,
Tearing at time-worn dreams
Bring me tomorrow today:
Strapped to the platter
And steaming with life.
Fetch me the future in every way
And I will devour until
I am empowered with
Flashes of intangibility.
Carved out of quartz and confessions
Collisions of stone into human hair.
Shape, fabricate this. Make it all me.
Tear up those time-worn dreams.
Tap tap the glass of the barometer
Storm rain change fair - calling down pressure.
Shape, dominate the surface you see
Carve out an artifice of me
From quartz and confessions
Collisions of stone into human hair.
Shape, fabricate this. Make it all me.
Tear up those time-worn dreams.
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12. |
Mini Modern House
05:10
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The doorway’s askew
With German expressionist
Perspective. I’ll let myself in
for a moment.
The decor is dank,
The angles robust
So I’m sliding and loose
and unfocused.
I painted your house;
I studied Matisse.
The facade is now
cut up in pieces.
Take me downstairs
To the jigsaw zone
Take me downstairs
to your broken home.
Talking of crisis.
In the Hepworth hole
Of empty space,
I’ll mould myself
Into a typeface
That spells out my name
In whispers and sighs
And a Latinate
Magic disguise.
I pointed your wall,
I feathered your bed
The funicular takes me
Back from where I ascended
While I lay in bed
I think of your walls.
You partition yourself into
fractions on the whole.
The logic is fuzzy,
The perspective askew.
The construction of homes
The construction of horrors
The construction of roles
The pattern of desires
The pattern of control.
Once the roof has gone,
It will become a ruin.
Let’s vacate the domestic.
A vision of hell - insulated cells.
Let’s vacate the domestic -
This palace is folding in on itself.
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