Music of pure gold,
Genius like a spirit still alive:
Rheingold, Walkure, Siegfried, Gotterdammerung.
DEEP THE SEA
All the ﬁsh of the deepest sea,
Among those colours endlessly changing,
Under where the bubbles burst,
Sea-horses jumping in white surf,
Corals dreaming, without doubts,
There the rumbling wider real ground,
There the sweet sound of the earth turning,
There the dreaming of the world burning,
There something under dreams of browning,
Open a bubble as a peeping shell,
Glugging is this account of the Universe,
My girlfriend is sexy, and beautiful as anything.
Why in the night-strange light I die,
Or play changingly, in boisterous draw,
The doggish cooks creak and blow,
Ah, peace my fish, stamp in the spoon!
Stooping spam illustrious ﬂy!
Jooking cram like gruel jam,
Spooping spies sleep along
Atop gejuggling engling lie!
THIS IS THE NIGHT
Thus is the night of strangeness;
Ah, well I sigh, her deepness;
Sleep is wild, no one knows,
Dawn splays lights and colours
Into dangerous thoughts and hopes;
My bleeding is so grey and mad.
They slouch like slugs, from rainy day to night,
Thoughtless through moments, lazy in their business,
Slugging a tea in teeth, talking politely,
Then jerking to The News, seven more dead, they say
Flaming as if the world were blue,
Hopeless crazy wild galaxies bum,
Ascending scales into Nature‘ s dream,
Fire explodes into all lmagination‘ s being!
Glacial ﬂow unto Universal Eternity!
Deep dream of love and all, lnexplicable!
Where am I at this moment of Truth?
I gut myself as if in insanity;
Dip you down into the eal1h‘s bowels,
Feel the Forest grow in tingling bulbs,
The mountains rear up, the skies ﬂy,
Sunlight streams ecstatically upon me, alone,
Now, the air is blue with clouds and air,
Free as heaven, the World is free!
AS I ALWAYS WANTED TO LIVE AND DIE
As l always wanted to live and die
(I was always lonely deep down there)
I heard a violin screech far from home
(Was it a gypsy, or Sibelius?)
Dying is nothing, a soft disappearing, but
(I hate those affected dissertations)
You just live, and then you don‘t,
Like the wine-drinker in The Rubaiyat
(Not that I have ever read the bloody thingl)
But I have read Hamlet: what is there
Beyond all this, and is it worse?
(Why should l be persecuted for wondering this?)
How strange! The stars still twinkle
And dance, in ancient lights of hope!
O LET MY CHILDREN
O let my children grow up feeling
Their grandparents fought for them,
Let them grow up knowing
All had been done in the crazy house
Of scions, to ﬁght for them!
And let us praise famous men, infamous
Mice, unknown dogs and crooked idiots,
As there is a place for all of them
In God´s Scheme for Plenitude!
Yo ho ho and a big bottle bum!
BEAUTY IN DARKNESS
Excellent are the notes of beauty,
Those dog-eared, fearful, hellish noises,
The damn-dark bloody hells of pain,
Those usual failures of communication.
That is the way of
The mind that thinks us
making us believe
We do what we do
because we are
What their braincells
us to do
The machines of their hardware
in Mobius loop
lnto our minds and culture
twist us all
Into the mad hatred
of crazy lies
The jazzy galaxies’
And those strange(!)
Helps to understand
our strange beings
Jug a dog dug, sex is the slug!!
Love dream, as if all were swept away,
All petty cares, misunderstandings,
Leaving only clouds and bare skeletons of heart-squeezing
Truth, in never-existent Love, only the dream of it,
The soft memory or hope of it,
The final notes drifting through a last light of night.
A fear creeps throughout the whole of me,
When l behold the shadow of your dark sarcasm;
Uncertain as an ice-dew-drop in melting or freezing,
In death of all unworried peace of soul.
You with your Power, erode my red blood,
Snip the nen/es that string across my globe;
Confusion in organs induced by your cold tyranny,
Surges round my brain and drowns my limbs.
To breathe and know my spirit, I must expel
The hellish air of troglodytic monsters;
Always wandering and waiting to strangle conﬁdence,
And throw me into oceanic miseries.
In the holy darkness of the Night
Music transports us to the Light
Out of our misery and deep depression
Our sense of loss and wild regret
Balm from a sacred transcendent realm
Lifts us from shattering pain to bliss
I HOVERED BETWEEN FIRE AND DEATH
I hovered between ﬁre and death,
Funnily, knowing I would end in both anyway
Eventually: the point was only
In which order or alternation
I would find them. O you who decide
Our fates, what ecstasy it must be, for you.
DADD‘S MASTER STROKE
When if morosely, maniacally, I ﬂy
In depths of cloud like streaking waltzing fire,
O, how dreaming, foolishly, this drowns
And dying, grants the wildest fruits to bloom,
The autumnal colour changes, strange
To dew folorn in golding fish at dawn,
A hoping idiocy, sweet in bluey glory,
The jump in streaming, fall to insect silence.
Utterly independent of the Real World,
Yet infused with every feeling from the rubbish,
Transcending and transcendent, but not avoiding
Anything of Love, Hell, Dying, Agony, Pain, Hate;
Just distilling All into sounds, music, Art.
THAT IS WHY THE SKY FLEW
That is why the sky ﬂew
Like wild spiders in the night
And all intensities of trying ﬁre
Raised themselves in ultimate pitch
To achieve their explosion, death of fear,
And rise, metamorphosed, into air.