1. |
The Einstein Song
04:40
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The endless possibilities of electromagnetic waves
Travelling 16 billion miles every seven days
Are an ever-moving spectrum of ultraviolet rays
And radio and infrared superposed in phase…
And if an EM wave should a metal surface hit
The energy of the photons which exist as part of it
Is passed on to electrons inside the metal plate
And the latter with their negative will finally escape
The metal surface now will have a greater positive
And thus a very useful store of energy to give
So – direct a beam of light on to a shiny metal slate
And then that force, could make, of course, an orrery rotate
A planet’s solar orbit keeps a parabolic pace
Erring to and from its path in modified time-space
But starlight beams will bend around the sun each time they pass
And energy’s the speed of light that squares itself times mass
This speed of light will keep an unadulterated course
Its momentum independent of the motion of its source
But the interval of time between two separate events
Is longer for observers in whose frame of reference
The happenings occur in different places, than for he
For whom they happen in the very same place…you see…
Atoms which absorb the neutrons in their way
Vibrate like trembling dew drops, then dramatically decay
They lose their binding mass from deficiencies of protons
Converting now to gamma rays or energetic photons
Energy can never be destroyed and not created
Movement, sound and light are in the strangest way related
Oscillating atoms and their heat are all as one
And shifting orbits spiral in and out, then they are gone
‘Simple thought,’ said Einstein, but his complicated laws
Invited future questions on a unifying cause
Governing the universe’s ever-flowing swing –
A theory culminating in… one for everything!
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2. |
2. Years of Sunday Suns
05:01
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Years of Sunday suns before I knew you
Circling with their never-changing force
Gave our unconnected worlds one centre
And watched our separate Sundays take their course
Gentle to the heads of aching wine
Offering the turf to Sunday boots
Calling to the ones who wake with chimes
Opening the church to Sunday suits
Singing praise with interludes
Matching plates with flowery foods
Brewing tea and stewing moods
Provoking then resolving feuds
Did you ever hear me softly turning to you
Those Sundays in those years before I knew you?
A Sunday in a spring when I first saw you
Those true rays faltered as they watched us speak
Loved confused that ancient place out of order
And the days slipped out of kilter with their week
Saturday the classroom filled with noise
Monday closed the doors of banks at one
Wednesday's washing blew upon the wind
And Tuesday every working man had done
Tell me why I don't like Fridays
Wear my linen-o on Monday
Goodbye, Goodbye, Rubv Wednesday
Always always on a Sunday
You jumbled up my heart and I fell for you
That Sunday in that spring when I first saw you
A Sunday in a summer when we kissed
The sky as we had known it rolled away
Everything outside did not exist
And the beating of the sun stopped with the day
Park and country walkers held their stride
Morning markets guarded empty streets,
Blackberries sat upon their bushes still
And sermon masters prayed to empty seats
Relatives not rung yet
Photographs not hung yet
Broken beads not strung yet
Solemn psalms not sung yet
Did you feel the time stand still inside my wrist
That Sunday in that summer when we kissed?
A Sunday in an autumn when you left me
Early frozen stars began to pour
You loved me but you loved another stronger
And the sun shone down alone on me once more
I'll wear my Sunday hats out in the streets
I'll walk along to buy my Sunday news
I'll mow my lawn in time for Sunday lunch
And polish up my car and Sunday shoes
But Sunday nights on my settee
I'll shake my Sunday hairpins free
Recall the easy way we'd be
Replay the thrill you'd wake in me
I'll taste the kiss we drank with wine
And feel your heart still beat for mine
Play back each inspiring line
Relive your love that made me shine
And keep that sunny love alive to warm me
Those endless winter Sundays that wait for me.
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3. |
This is What I Know
02:34
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You spoke and smiled and the earth momentum failed
And as I walked away, we watched my body go
My life began as the darkness swiftly paled
This is what I know
You look at me directly in the eye
As we drift along a legendary beam
And when we land, we never say goodbye
This is what I dream
You reach an age when your soul will want to fly
And with shining twinkling eyes I hear you say
We'll rise as one into that legendary sky
This is what I pray
You disappear as softly as you came
Leaving love that grew too loud for you unsaid
My life has gone, your life remains the same
This is what I dread
You find a force that glows as bright as you
And reveals a kindly bearing as we grope
And something good and gentle pulls us through
This is what I hope
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4. |
Bom-Bosch
05:09
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I’ve travelled to the rhythm of a great conductor’s needle
To the ordinance precision of some strict surveyor’s staves
The ringing-singing symphonies of steep staccato stairways
And winding water melodies through orchestrated caves
I’ve held the panoramas of the planet’s ancient preludes
That scale above the islands then fall deep beneath the blue -
But never an adventure in the music of the stones
Could ever match the journey that my Bom-Bosch leads me through.
I’ve opened doors to silver scores and welcomed velvet voices
Listened to the brightest brew a singer’s heart can stir
Recognised a million sighs that breathe among the breakers
And chased a million others where the flooded cities were
I’ve taken inspiration from the drama of my dreamings
Followed calmer choruses where level waters wash
And found a never-ending mound of joyful jewelled verses -
But nothing like the song that lives inside my great Bom-Bosch
Basketfuls of poetry have satisfied my thirst
And nourished all the playful fruity hunger deep within
Unlocked the many luscious lands of lyrical supply
And lit in droves the stoked-up stoves, while stacked-up stanzas spin
Disarming rhymes with cryptic mimes have furnished me with feasts
As joyful lines in saddened brine charm taste buds in my brain
And satiate my longing for the world to thrill my thoughts -
But nothing so delicious as the sweet Bom-Bosch refrain
I’ve penetrated guarding glass and slipped through wooden frames
To search between titanic tones and quiet hidden hues
I’ve lived among the galleries where pure dimensions meet
Tracing timeless secrets under freely coloured clues
I’ve gasped in wonder every time a canvas calls my name
And stared in disbelief when living marble shapes the past-
But not before I gazed in awe at Tom-Bom-Bosch’s hand
Did I see clearly what I was - and life knew me at last.
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5. |
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6. |
Show Me Where to sit
04:06
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Show me where to sit, I said, I don't know where to sit
I've tried your chairs and floors and stairs but nowhere seems to fit
Where do I put my other foot, my elbows and my knees?
I knew I had two arms and legs, but not as long as these
Shall I stand until I land, or elegantly split?
Help me, lead me, guide me now - I don't know where to sit
Show me what to drink, I said, I don't know what to drink
I know I'll swoon or topple soon, but I've forgotten how to think
Am I thirsty? Am I hot? Why can't I answer sweetly?
Who put this drain upon my brain and dried me up completely?
My face has burned, but never turned, this brighter shade of pink
Help me, lead me, guide me now - I don't know what to drink
Show me how to speak, I said, I don't know how to speak
I watch the words come warbling from underneath my beak
I'm like a bird of homeless word, wondering how to talk
Twittering and flittering then laughing with a squawk
I have felt a featherbrain, but never quite so weak
Help me, lead me, guide me now - I don't know how to speak
Show me how to kiss, I said, I don't know how to kiss
I thought I'd been through all there was, but now I'm faced with this
I'm bound to freeze, or bound to sneeze, or read the moment wrong
What do I do, so close to you? It's been so very long
In fact, I've never ever been face to face with bliss
Help me, lead me, guide me now - I don't know how to kiss
Show me how to love, I said, I don't know how to love
Those coloured stars and arrows keep inviting me above
I need a map upon my lap, a plan or where to go
A simple chapter teaching me what every girl should know
So I can ride where arrows glide, upon my homing dove…
Help me, lead me, guide me now - I don't know how to love
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7. |
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You came to me in the night
As I waited in darkness and watched with my eyes closed
You sat beside me again, as you did when lived here
An echo ago
Hold me, reach me, tell me you left me only in a nightmare, woah...
You took you me into your world
When you thought that you needed the light that I gave you
You took my face in your hands and knew that you loved me
An echo ago
Hold me etc
‘What are you thinking of?’
‘Sadness,’ I said, as your strong gentle fingers encradled my head
‘What isn’t happening, why can’t we be?
And where is the you that used to be me…’
You stepped out into the world
Where they greeted you warmly and I was a memory
I found this corner of darkness and made it my home here
An echo ago
Hold me etc
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8. |
It Makes Me Laugh
02:52
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Hi Tom, ‘lo Tom, where d’y get y’ high hat?
Is it just a symbol, symbol, symbol
It makes me laugh x 2 Haha!
Hi Hat, ’lo hat, where’s she gong gong gone?
Gone to see ‘er Tom-Tom, Tam-Tam timbale
It makes me laugh x 3 Hahaha!
You have such a funny way with words…
Man in a bowler, inner-city roller
Is it just a brief case, or are you going steady?
It makes me laugh x 2 Haha!
Mr Multi-pounder, out-of-city bounder,
Tried to sell his stock, but the market wasn’t ready
It makes me laugh x 3 Hahaha!
You have such a funny money job…
You with the frump on, where d’you get the hump from?
You are such a difficult, fuss pot, odd bod
It makes me laugh x 2 Haha!
Awkward, peculiar, you are such a kill joy
Why you such a funny fish, drab crab, cold cod?
It makes me laugh x 3 Hahaha!
You are such a funniosity…
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9. |
Song to a Swinging Cat
04:14
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Oh my jack pot, oh my hot cat
How’d you like to walk the night?
Scale the rooftops reach the skylife
Steal the midnight moonlight
Don’t misunderstand my smiles
Get set for a night on the tiles
Take some time off, time your mask off
Lay your stiff tuxedo down
Don your soft shoes, doff your top hat
Prowl with me above the town
No cost – no need to count the miles
Time’s lost on a night on the tiles
Oh the ceiling’s too low and the walls are too near
There’s not enough room to swing a cat in here
Whisk us off to some other cool place
Cats like us need space. Miouw – let me out…
So my jack pot, so my hot cat
How’d you like the air up here?
Let’s recline and taste the moonshine
Breathe the night-time atmosphere
Let’s stop and linger here a while
Let’s drink to a night on the tiles!
Oh the ceiling’s too low etc
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10. |
To Kindle My Songs
07:38
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I’ll just walk alone for a while now, I told you
Blow some sea air through my bottle-necked words
I’ll follow the beacons that light when I hold you
I’ll fly on the wind with those free-wheeling birds
The deep skies were high and the white clouds were low
I soared and I swooped but my verses still slept
Under the current and over the flow
I was energy stored where the corals are swept
I searched among fossils and sea-shells that knew me
Eager to find the right form for your song
When something came to me, above me or through me
Woven with notions I’d owned all along
Silent and stately your galleon was steered
Slicing the sea without pomp, without voice
When out on the deck three boxes appeared
That beckoned me open the first of my choice
With unswerving step and a slow steady hand
I lifted the cedar wood lid like a shield
‘It’s JEWELS!’ I sang aloud to the land
Where the rich ringing rhymes of your stanzas are sealed
I cried with delight as a million gold darts
Burst from the crate on diagonal beams
While warm amber clusters befriended my heart
And tenderest topaz took care of my dreams
Lulled by the gilded and sulphury haze
Cradled in opal and soft ochre rocks
I slipped like a sylph through the pale golden rays
Releasing the clasp on the next wooden box
I almost drowned there in that lazuli pool
Till amethysts worked their purply brew
Sapphires proffered their translucent cool
And sleep nestled down in the dark midnight blue.
There I dreamed of navy ships and turquoise arcs across our skies
Indigo dust upon our lips with lapis landscapes in our eyes
The thinnest trills of distant strings spun their fragile cornelian lines
& dragonflied the daybreak’s wings with violet silks & gossamer wines
As the shocking red sun in orchestral swing
Rolled in its furnace the third chest broke free
Rockets of rubies were launched for my king
And gunflares of garnet set fire to the sea
As feverish scarlet whipped through the blues
Engulfing the gold in kaleidoscope wealth
I leaned on the ropes absorbing the news:
My first song to you had written itself
Then the marbled mosaics turned to prisms of white
And the quiet that fell was the purest I’d known
My world was at peace and the years became light
And never again would I face them alone
As I silently walked from my dreams to your arms
Eternal armadas of cargo set sail
With fruits and wild orchids, rare rhythms and balms
To kindle my songs if my own words should fail.
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11. |
Ki Nog Stan
03:58
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The stranger arrived and
Set about his tour around the town
Soon admiration filled his foreign head
‘Who is the man who built those marble walls,
I’d like so much to meet him.
Pray, what is this good man’s name?’
The passer-by, not knowing what all this meant,
gave his reply to the man: ‘Ki Nog Stan’.
The stranger heard descant
Echo in a church across the square
Moved to a frenzy, ran to the priest in prayer:
‘Who is the man who plays that haunting tune,
I’d like so much to meet him.
Pray, what is this good man’s name?’
The smiling priest, not knowing what all this meant,
gave his reply to the man: ‘Ki Nog Stan’.
The stranger saw dancers
Weaving through the trees across the green
Stole like a stream towards the enchanted scene:
‘Who is the man who taught those rhyming mimes
I’d like so much to meet him.
Pray, what is this good man’s name?’
Three girls in time, not knowing what all this meant,
gave their reply to the man: Ki Nog Stan
The stranger sensed movement
High above the spinning of his head,
Swayed in amazement, disbelief and dread:
‘Who is the man who flies that train through space,
I’d like so much to meet him.
Pray, what is this good man’s name?’
The crowds below,
Not knowing what all this meant,
Sang their reply to the man: ‘Ki Nog Stan’.
The stranger by this time,
Frantic in his search for Ki Nog Stan,
Entered an inn and questioning began:
‘Good afternoon , there, I am a stranger,
I’m looking for someone –
pray, sir, what is your good name?
The staring man, not knowing what all this meant,
gave his reply to the man:
‘Ki Nog Stan!’ ‘KI NOG STAN!!!
I’VE FOUND HIM!!! KI NOG STAN!!
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12. |
Dream
03:12
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Who will walk along my lonely way?
When will I hear calling from the blue?
Where will tears be hiding on that day?
Why will it be me he’s calling to?
Whose warming stride will echo lightly through my days?
Whose swinging arms will wave and reach towards my gaze?
How will we find a happy pathway through the maze
Dream
Who will he be walking to me from?
What will have been before he hears my plea to come?
Who lies behind? A figure I may never see
Will she be searching for him as he searches me?
What will he do to take me off my weary hands?
Will we depart to whispered thoughts in silent lands?
How will we withstand the world’s demands?
Dream
Who is this girl who watches through these eyes of fear?
When did she turn her back and wander out of here?
How can I catch her up again when she’s so near?
How do you touch a heart that wants to disappear?
Can I believe he’ll take me back from where I came?
Will he console me, lead me home and find my name?
Then when we’ve held each other, will we dream the same dream?
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13. |
I Should've known then
01:57
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I should’ve known then by the stars in my eyes
By the heart on my sleeve, by your never surprise
By the height of my hopes and my unhidden sighs
That I was too easy to love
I was too easy to love
Why didn’t I see that the balance was tipped
That I was too drugged by the love that I’d sipped
How couldn’t I feel that my heart was being ripped
Being too much in love to be loved
Too much in love to be loved
And how could I have fallen from mighty to slave?
How couldn’t I foresee how not to behave?
I should’ve known then as I gave and I gave
That I loved you too much for your love
Loved you too much for your love…
And how didn’t you see that to walk away then
Calling I’ll be back some day, I can’t tell you when
Left my door sadly open to other sweet men
Who love me now you pray for my love
Who love me now you crave for my love
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14. |
The Edinburgh Mermaid
05:16
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Underneath the bridge, beside the lazy stock
Along the cobbly ridge and round the stony clock
Down the shady steep, beneath the leafy domes
Below the chimney keep and opposite the homes
Through the swinging door and up the sunny stairs
Across the chequered floor and past the duty chairs
On the wooden ledge, inside the tiny space
Over to the edge - you've found the water place
Now can you see the welcoming and cheery face of
The Edinburgh Mermaid?
I said “How long you been a mermaid for?”
She said "I must've been eight I couldnae've been more -
I lost my leg in a jambed tram door
Without that, I would've been a walker
I said “But you swim, must be a mile each day
You sort of do your walking in a watery way
And you certainly make up for it, wouldn't you say,
By being quite a long distance talker?”
And I say this, friends, with a smile to my drift,
'Cause we talked as we swam every dawn like a gift.
So at dusk I had the air for my musical shift
Through… etc
Now do you think at all you could keep up with the pace of
The Edinburgh Mermaid?
There we both were like a pair of old trout
The more that we swam, the more we found out
Until we both sort of knew what the other was about -
There in the Glenogle Pool
We talked about parking and houses and friends
All about hobbies and musical trends
And how the water life begins where the city life ends -
Echo-y, floaty and cool
And, did you know, when she's not swimming there
On some other side of town she'II be swimming elsewhere
Her mer-mer music drifting through the Edinburgh air
Through…etc
Now would you like to float above the humanly race with
The Edinburgh Mermaid?
Since I last saw the mermaid, I heard she'd been ill
And had been quite poorly, I take it, until
She received a magnificent magical pill -
A mountain of letters that grew
From people in pools who go there to train
Or go to get wet, or to get out of the rain
Or to work or to help them to get over some strain -
Each stood in a post office queue
You see, they all missed the cheer she'd brim with
And somebody nice to grow healthy and slim with
But most of all someone they could talk to and swim with
I heard that it worked - she's back. Phew!
Through… etc
Now think of all the fishy-washy dreams you could chase with the Edinburgh Mermaid
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15. |
The Saddest Day
02:04
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Many hours have passed through here
And gathered heartache on the way
But this amongst the sorrows is
In all the world, the saddest day
I've seen serene reflections fade
In darkened dreams and watery skies
But yours amongst the sorrows are
In all the world, the saddest eyes
I've travelled to some cheerless parts
To wilderness through troubled space But here amongst the sorrows is
In all the world the saddest place
Many loves have wept as one
And many more have grieved apart
But mine amongst the sorrows is
In all the world, the saddest heart
Voices vague and void of song
And lost and longing cries I've heard
But love amongst the sorrows is
In all the world, the saddest word
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16. |
Song to a Big Harmonium
07:57
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Would you just please with an ear of your own
Consider the deep and the velvety tone
Of this ancient mahogany drone?
It’s heavy and dusty and might make your sneeze
It suffers itself from a primeval wheeze
But how it shifts when you pedal with these…
My feet flap like ducks and my knees walk a mile
My hands scan the scale in a serious style
And your frown becomes a smile.
As the bellows send air across rows of brass reeds
That wake and vibrate as their hinges are freed
And its music of gold gathers speed.
But my old dilemma’s here: my mirror’s far too small,
So you’re staring at my back and I can’t see you at all.
And as we shrink, my words grow tiny, and we float around the hall:
‘What a funny old world we are. What strange little folk we be:
It’s a droll-soul, bellow-fellow, treadle-pedal, chord-lord,
Broad-board, vox-box Rap-tap, bass-case, pop-stop, funk-trunk,
Odd-mod, round-sound, an oak-croak, teak-creak
Prim-hymn, palm-psalm, good-wood, lift-shift,
Draft-shaft, air-blair, to-fro thru’-blow,
Rush-push, lull-pull: a grand hand spanned band
But I still can’t see you see me!
Hey, hey, I say – wear your travelling coat
And we’ll all climb aboard my harmonium-boat
I wonder where we’ll float?
Gather your notes as I pedal and start
This old wooden soul, and we’ll follow the heart
Of our own home-grown travels with art
Over the top of the music parade
Where a thought can be caught and then shaped and be played
Where our future old favourites are made.
Jiving to marches and smooching to flings
Waltzing to dirges and twisting to strings,
Till a lonely trumpet sings…
But my old dilemma’s here etc…
It’s a droll-soul, bellow-fellow etc
Hey hey I say is there anyone there
Who’d lift my harmonium into the air
I wonder if you’d dare?
Its body is sturdy but splits into two
If you stand at the sides, then you’ll know what to do
Please, oh please, would you?
Surprising I know, but my organ still sings
Without all its makeup and mirrors and things
These bellows still have wings
The life of my music is now in your hands
I’ll sit as it flies and I’ll sing as it lands
Till my old harmonium stands
Now my old dilemma’s gone with the mirror and the ball
And now you’re staring at my face and I can see you all
And as we shrink etc …
It’s a droll-soul, bellow-fellow etc…
Is that all it takes – well, goodness gracious me!
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17. |
Are You in the Hat?
04:24
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‘Are you in the hat?’ Anna whispered to Judy
Who’d called in from work, collapsed at our table
‘What do you mean?’ She answered, perplexed,
As no point of reference arrived with a label.
‘The hat is my house, at least that’s the idea,
But there’s not enough room on my head,’ I began,
‘For me to be in it, and all of my friends,
So only those staying on Wednesday nights can…’
Her poor eyes by now had grown dark and glazed over
And she smiled half awake at our meaningless manner
‘Don’t worry,’ I said, ‘I’ll make you some tea.’
‘And I’ll show you the plans for the hat,’ ventured Anna.
‘All are invited to Jane Bom-Bane’s house.
Somebody rings and she answers the door
She greets you with smiles and a train on her head
And takes you aboard for a whistle stop tour
She’s made herself dizzy so has a lie down
As you all walk round the house to the garden outside
That’s where I sit and play my guitar
And sings a selection of songs in my stride
Then Jane Bom-Bane rises and has a quick bath
Communicates there with her maritime self
Dolls herself up th join you in the garden
And finds some presentable cups from the shelf
But just as impressions begin to improve
A high window moves on the roof’s sloping wall
And a 16-year-old and his paraphernalia
Burst from their confines and shower us all
We shuffle inside as shadows grow long
The barometer tells us it’s blowing a storm
So we pull up our chairs, reflect on the hat
And pull up our chairs round the fire for a warm’
‘I see,’ Judy, said, so her friends and relations,
When all that they’ve done is call round for a chat
Find themselves offering their skills and advice-
Or somehow involved in making the hat;
Her aunts and her uncles, cousins and nieces
Sisters and nephews and brothers in law
Her parents, her boyfriend, his daughter, his dad
His sister and partner, her friends from next door
Chums from the 50s and 60s and 70s
80s and 90s and millennium
Old friends from up north and new friends from the south
Her X and his family, his wife and her mum
Friends who offer fine foods and philosophies
Seafolk she sunbathes and sings with each year
The fans who are friends and the friends who aren’t fans,
The ones that are listening and those who aren’t here.
What are we all if we’re not a small part
Of the overall shape of another man’s heart?
Her heart’s where her home is and that’s on her head
So we’re all in the hat!’ ‘My God!’ Judy said.
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18. |
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It’s a long, long word, and it faces itself
It’s a long, long word, and it follows itself
It’s a long, long word, and it chases itself
It’s a long, long word, and it swallows itself
We spiral round the world as it tilts upon its pole
And scan the northern half of the green and navy sphere
Then as our interest grows, the mighty magnets roll
And we’re pulled in closing coils till the frosted lands appear.
Like sharply chiseled ice, our spear-headed eye
Relentless in its course, unshakable within,
Cuts through the freezing firs with an ancient homing cry
Past the land of the Lapps into the lap of our Finn…
Our warming senses warn us through his soft rotating song
Which occupies our friend, as he polishes his stone,
That his world is not so shiny, not so perfect, oddly wrong
And he tries to realign it as he sits and works alone.
His doctors cannot free him from a weakening condition
Which causes the compulsion to retain exact control
Over both sides of the body, so that pressure and position
Remain forever equal, balanced, just and whole…
He shapes the solid soapstone with his strong and practised fingers
And smooths the surface fondly with the other hand in time
Then he shifts his stance above it, deliberately lingers
And changes hands precisely, so the ritual will rhyme.
He drops his blade and swears, and retrieves it with his right
Then purposely repeats this with his left to feel complete
He rubs his tired eyes, both hands at perfect height,
And stretches with precision, level weight on even feet.
His weary spirit sighs each time his limbs fall out of stride
And the drive to keep his balance racks his heart, torments his brain
Yet he knows there’s some small element deeply stored inside
That links his craftsman’s name to the nature of his pain.
It’s a long, long word, and it faces itself etc
And so the mode continues as he wends his mirrored way
To the order of his home, symmetrically planned,
Where bewildered and exhausted by the rigours of the day
Our soapstone seller dines, passing foods from hand to hand.
His strange obsession fades as his heavy eyes roll back
And sleep in all her splendour brings her merciful release
Then our newly sharpened arrow travels deep in dreamy black
Through the turmoil of his thoughts, to a place of welcome peace.
He becomes the Vainamoinen, ancient father of the world
Whose body shaped the ocean floor, each chasm, reef and crease,
Whose eagle’s golden egg was shattered, seized and hurled
And the firmament created with each tiny, shiny piece.
Our traveller of the night becomes the spirit of the earth,
The sorcerer in his trance touching worlds beyond our scope,
He whispers with our forbears, shares their learning and their mirth
Returning with their knowledge and the certainty of hope.
Then off he flies again as the eagle’s gentle humming
From the spurs of every star to the bed of every tree,
The shaman who inhabits our creation’s rhythmic drumming
And he slides across the shores as the white snake of the sea.
The mighty Midgard Serpent, always present, ending never,
Orbiting the Earth, in eternal silver rings,
Shines out like a memor, Nordic symbol of Forever,
And our sleeping friend is conscious of his place amongst the kings.
It’s a long, long word, and it faces itself etc
Even as he sleeps, his mortal voice is chanting
Echoing in circles, like waves around our lands
And as his song gains speed, some coincidence is planting
The inkling of a journey over streaked and silvered sands.
A silent light that calls him from the darkened lowland skies
Lies somewhere in the centuries of layered stone he knows -
His safely trodden future hears those metamorphic cries
And his aching body yearns to find the rift where sorrow glows
Too soon the soothing moon slips behind the cruel sun
And our soapstone seller rises to the nightmare of his day.
His muddled mind is weak before his labour has begun
And we watch him lumber on in his strict compulsive way.
But surely there is someone who can help restore his pleasures -
Shall we ourselves search keenly as he sits like his own guest
And lead him to the elder who defends his family’s treasures
Whose empathetic insight might clarify his quest?
But word precedes our musings, carried by his caring kin,
And the older one approaches with an asymmetric gait.
Immediately he senses through the soapstone seller’s skin
The history of the ailment weighing down upon his fate.
“You’re striving to defy the messages inside you
Fighting to deny some predetermined course.
Your pain will never lessen till you let your oddness guide you
And lead you to your essence,” spoke the sage in oldest Norse.
It’s a long, long word, and it faces itself etc
“Something in the name, the calling of my trade
Is trapped inside the word and it whispers to my heart.
Help me free my trances from their nightly prison shade
And trace the silvered pathways with the sun upon my chart.”
We listen with our mason as the old one speaks in runes:
“King Uakivikau, brave explorer of the oceans,
Sailed towards his homeland, guided by the moons,
Impatient to embrace his perfect love’s devotion.
Queen Saippias, beautiful and pure,
Bejeweled by the white and silver snake around her waist
Sparkled like the pole star from the cliff above the shore
And waved with both her arms for her treasured king to haste.
No! The hanging rock beneath her feet begins to crumble
And he moves to shake the underworld, and fill the sky with sounds
Too late, his hands reach out as he sees his beauty tumble…
The raging seas engulf her, and our king in grief is drowned.”
We’re the swift and silky salmon that skims the upward brooks
The fearless flying goose that scores the frozen air
The livid lynx that scrambles up the slopes of racing rooks
The dashing of the elk and the charging of the bear
We’re the lightning in his eyes, the thunder in his ears
The fires beneath the ocean forcing anger through its crust
The baking of the stones through the terror of the years
Blasting, drenching, fusing, grinding, cooling rock to dust.
Our soapstone seller stumbles with the force of eastern gales
He twists his pounding heel and he buckles at the knee
But now the rich pain fuels him as he treads the coastal dales
And the quarried land emerges where the white stone meets the sea…
For a while he stops to ponder his acquaintance with the ocean
Tastes the salty grave where the ancient secrets swim
Breathes the very air, the sacred space in motion
As Uakivikau finds life again - in him.
And what of Saippias, moving softly with the tide,
Grown still below the waves, sinking deep beneath its tears
Trapped between the waters and the molten rocks inside
Transformed and smoothed by fire and ice and undulating years…?
His ankle weakens sharply and his laboured muscles ache
And reckless anger tears him with a wrenching from his awe
His bare hands plummet wildly and his solid powers quake
As his tragic sobbing echoes through the white caves on the shore.
For centuries from moving mines that reach above the bay
Our soapstone seller’s stock for generations hewed the stone
While trapped between its layers sweet serpentinite lay,
And left to weather quietly, slept its sister stone alone…
He rips along the snakestone like iron in a storm
As the elements inside him pare his hand into a knife
Then his frenzied heartbeat stills as he beholds the streamlined form
And the timeless winds rush through him as he lifts her into life…
Streaked with silver soft and white, elegant and pure…
“My serpentinite love, O my own infinity!
I’m whole again. I’ve found my soul! So sleep, my queen, no more.
Take my hand, embrace this perfect universe with me!”
We fly above the wonder and enchantment of the scene
As they softly ride in joy upon their ever-rolling streams,
Far above our soapstone King and Midgard Serpent queen
Through mirrored lands, united hands and palindromic dreams…
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Jane Bom-Bane Rogers, Arkansas
JB-B performs original songs & poems to the accompaniment of harmonium. She's played around & outside the country & with Linda Thompson, David Thomas, John Bradbury, Rich Hall & David Cunningham, appeared solo on Ch 4, BBC 2, STV, Russian State TV, R 1,2,3,4 & 5Live, R Scotland & written many musicals performed with Eliza Skelton, Daisy Jordan, Emma Kilbey, Kate Daisy Grant etc at Bom-Bane's cafe. ... more
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