Daye 86 / The Last Day Of The Decade

i once read lester bangs
and spent the next three days
drawing psychedelic lines around a piece of paper
until it was totally black
then on consecutive nights had a panic attack
since then of course i've tried
to slow myself down
almost to normal
i sleep at all the right times

this morning
i am awakened by the unholy quiet
the silence hums to me
through the heavy curtains
a slow blank white
light of a drifting fog comes inside
the last day of the decade may also be the softest
i pull on some clothes
and walk out onto the smooth edge of the city
it's so early that there's only myself to talk to
and the universe is all around
it envelops me
and today it feels okay
zigzagging across sparklepark
oh i very much wanted to see the park today
where the fog grows thickest
and the leafless trees cast no shadows
i wander about
happy
thinking of the time that is against me
and ha ha what a thing to think!
the year 2010 to be
almost here
and spaces in a past that will be forever unfilled
don't have to be spaces
do they?

much later/earlier
something pulls me into
a part of the city i'm unfamiliar with
and it's still foggy
like it's always foggy
and i don't have a sat nav
so i don't know where i am
and i don't know what i'm doing
a girl meets me at the door
she's wearing a black blouse and a white skirt
her hair explodes across her head
her eyes are blue blinking in the light
she gives me that look
i follow her into a room
where she sits down at a desk
she gets on with her work
while i wait
i read a few pages of my book
watch some daytime tv
listen to my ipod
i wait all day
i always have to wait
everybody has to wait
it's not that i'm impatient
it's just that i'm old enough and wise enough to know
and i no longer have the urge to play
so i tell the girl that i won't wait any longer
and i tell her that the company can go and fuck themselves
she looks shocked
and red-faced
says her boss will see me now
but i'm already out through the door
and back into the fog

i am supposed to see harin tonight
but we have been invited to a party
so i ask her to come along
she says yes
so we meet at brion's
where everybody but me is already under the influence
so i volunteer to drive
brion's roomy maroon saloon car
out towards congleton
headed for the unknown what
five miles out brion says we need petrol
we don't
but i stop at the next station anyway
everybody climbs out of the car
and into the station shop
brion fills up the tank
then realizes he's left all of his money and his cards
on the kitchen table
of his big white house on tempest drive
so i pay for the petrol
and cigarettes
and soft drinks
and the munchies
by the time they are back in the car
the others are much too spaced to give any directions
and we've missed the party by some miles
somehow we've ended up on shadowmoss road
close to the airport
everybody gets hung up on the bright lights in the sky
brion and aurora want to wait here
for a while
time passes
aurora gets excited
lights appear in the sky
the lights come closer
the lights become a beautiful greysilver airliner
which floats past a few hundred feet overhead
before disappearing into the fog
we must leave now if we want to make the party
says a voice next to me
just one more pleads aurora
sigh

are you sure this is the right place?
asks brion
its not how he remembers it you see
well it wouldn't be...
would it
we have to leave the car parked on the road
outside the gates of the house
no room left to park inside them
i follow hitch into the fog
and the curling smoke
down a very long and murky garden path
which winds itself through tall hedges of copper beech
past smiling girls in fancy dress we go
and boys holding psychedlic candles
past all those fireworks
and sparklers
through the fairy lights
and strobe-lights
a cctv camera tracking my every move
and when the path opens up into a great illuminated garden
which seems to stretch for miles either way
aurora sighs loudly
and harin giggles
'cos somebody has sprayed the lawns turquoise and maroon
especially for the party
and there are people everywhere
stretched out asleep on the lawns and benches
dum de dum de dum
or on the patio
lying under the trees
or in the branches of the trees
in the fountains
draped across the walls of the garden
and crowding the verandah
an amplified owl screech erupts from deep inside the house
and out into the night
''..this is not reality..
this is not the real
thing...
this is not the....''
<>DRRRRRRRINGGGGGG<>
oscillating guitar chord
sends me spinning backwards
now sideways
through oversized party balloons
and strobe-light nicky is running
laughing
at me and past me
his feet are a blur
his hair is a prism
refracting the light
this ways and that
his girl is right behind
they rush out of the house together
hand in hand
into the lights and the colour
into the garden
into the night
into tomorrow
into 2010
into the far-flung futuuuure

Daye 85 / The Secret

two girls discover
the secret of life
in a sudden line of
poetry

i who don't know the
secret wrote
the line
they told me

(through a third person)
they had found it
but not what it was
not even

what line it was
no doubt
by now
more than a week
later
they have forgotten
the secret

the line
the name of
the poem
i love them
for finding what
i can't find

and for loving me
for the line i wrote
and for forgetting it
so that

a thousand times
till death
finds them
they may
discover it again
in other
lines

in other
happenings
and for
wanting to know it
for

assuming there is
such a secret
yes
for that
most of all
~Denise Levertov

Daye 84 / Beginnings And Endings

strange how it goes
with beginnings and endings
when we were ten we used to throw stones
at each other
by the time we we sixteen we were the best
of friends
he took my place as singer in my first band
our guitarist martin heard this voice
through the bathroom window
singing along to bowie and mott the hoople
and that was it
i was out
he was in
but i held no grudges
and neither did he when i replaced him again
a few months later
the band was shite anyway
and by the next year we were in a band of our own
writing and singing together
toe to toe
sharing smokes
and girlfriends
and smutty jokes
and guitars
and speakers
and amps
and our last few £'s
and druhgs
and records
and cassettes
and videos
and books
and magazines
and poems
and newspapers
and comics
and posters
and binge drinking
and getting stupid
and falling in love with each others girls
and haircuts
and earrings
and mens make-up
and dreams
and friends
and mens clothes
and ladies clothes
and shoes 'n' boots
and stories
and druhg-busts
and sulks
and fights
and falling outs
and nights in the cells
and nights on the tiles
and nights at crap clubs
and being thrown out by landlords or parents
and sleeping under the stars in dunham park
and seeing phantoms in the grounds of ashley hall
and bike rides up to tatton
and appearances in court
and jolly jaunts in the van
and holidays in the sun
and summer jobs in france
and crap gigs
and sacking the drummer
and more druhgs
and discovering eno and zappa
and v.u. and nico
and huxley and vonnegut
and pynchon and hardy
and hepatitis
and hospital beds
and falling out of sync with each other so easily
and arranging rehearsals and failing to show
and arranging meetings and failing to show
and more druhgs
and more hospital beds
and girlfriends who hated one another
and moving to different cities
and not contacting each other for months on end
and then the final terrible phonecall

Daye 83 / I Am The Cosmos

every night i tell myself
i am the cosmos
i am the wind
but that don't get you back again
just when i was starting to feel okay
you're on the phone
i never wanna be alone
never wanna be alone
i hate to have to take you home
wanted too much to say no no
yeah yeah yeah
yeah yeah yeah
never wanna be alone
i hate to have to take you home
want you too much to say no no
yeah yeah yeah
yeah yeah yeah
my feelings always have been
something i couldn't hide
i can confide
don't know what's going on inside
so every night i tell myself
i am the cosmos
i am the wind
but that don't get you back again
i'd really like to see you again
i really wanna see you again
i'd really like to see you again
i really wanna see you again
i'd really like to see you again
i really wanna see you again
i never wanna see you again
really wanna see you again
~Chris Bell (d. 27/12/1978)

Daye 81 / Mistletoe

sitting under the mistletoe
pale-green
fairy mistletoe
one last candle burning low
all the sleepy dancers gone
just one candle burning on
shadows lurking everywhere
some one came
and kissed me there

tired i was
my head would go
nodding under the mistletoe
pale-green
fairy mistletoe
no footsteps came
no voice but only
just as I sat there
sleepy lonely
stooped in the still and shadowy air
lips unseen
and kissed me there
~ Walter de la Mare

Daye 80 / A Snowstorm

last night aurora's guitar playing called up a huge snowstorm
centered over tempest drive
we were rehearsing some new songs
the psykick sea being particularily peculiar
extended and strange
so things were going pretty well
and somebody happened to draw back the blinds
and peep out the large bay windows that open onto the edge
there had grown a thick layer of snow
where the fields had been earlier that afternoon
and the sky was blotted out by billions of large white flakes
somebody said we were snowed in
so brion went outside to see for himself
and quickly realised that we would all have to spend the night in alderley
the streetlights were out all down the hill
the roads were impassable
car-batteries dead
the wipers on aurora's super-duper silver mini were frozen onto the windscreen

there wasn't enough bedspace or enough setteespace to go 'round
so we decided that we would take the opportunity to play and record through the night
we all got a little giddy
switched off every light in the house
to let the music breathe
we got high on the ice patterns that formed on the windows
and the strange shadows which they cast on the bare walls of the studio
we got high on the snow falling outside
watching the icestorm growing as we played
swooning in the early morning air whenever we slipped outside
to take a quick breather or to have a smoke
inbetween takes we listened to some great music
amon duul II's yeti
the grateful dead's aoxomoxoa
eno's before and after science
and hitch read aloud some ghostly mr james during coffee breaks

when lucy pulled out five cards from a set of oblique strategies
1) use an old idea
2) repetition is a form of change
3) remove specifics and convert to ambiguities
4) trust in the you of now
5) emphasize the flaws
we were inspired
aurora thrashed at her guitar even more than she had before
warlie and mex pounded on the toms
someone sucked at a cannister of n₂o
got kind of confused for a while
but the tft+ just played on and on
without stopping
until the morning white light
began to filter into the room
and then one by one the musicians started to fall asleep
some still at their instruments

Daye 79 / The Thousand Arms Of Avalokitesvara

avalokitesvara the buddhist saint of compassion
pledged that he would never rest
until he had freed all sentient beings from samsara
the endless cycle of birth death rebirth
despite his best efforts
he soon realized that many beings
were still to be freed
and as he struggled to comprehend
the needs of so many
his head cracked into eleven pieces

amitabha buddha
saw his plight
and gave him eleven heads
with which to hear the cries of those
who were suffering multiple reincarnations
the eleven-headed avalokitesvara
did indeed hear these cries
and comprehended them
but in his attempt to reach out to all those
who needed aid
both of his arms shattered into pieces
once more amitabha buddha
came to his aid
investing him with a thousand arms
with which to aid the suffering multitudes...

Daye 78 / I Get Lost

the day trembles
i get lost
i go backwards and forwards
a tiny light switches on
there are stars in my veins
a cosmos fills my brain
but i get lost
birds fly twittering through the sky
citynoise drones on inside my head
the church play in the background
memories warp
st b playing water music in his long dream
i follow him down to the sealine
this is unreality tv
we're up on a hilltop
i'm trying to grasp just what it is that's coming for me
but i don't understand yet
i might never understand
ah i'm so fucking lost
i pray
and i don't pray
i believe
but i don't believe
i laugh
and i don't laugh
i cry
i don't cry
i want
i don't want
i'm here
but not here
i love
but i don't love
i'm innocent
not innocent
i kill
don't kill
i see
but i don't see
i know
but i don't know
i'm alive
and i'm not alive
i'm even
i'm uneven
i'm real
i'm unreal
slip easily into the automode
i climb down from the roof of the world
i don't feel any better
sun pours through the roof of my silver car
it blinds me
the roads are wide and sticky
i can smell the asphalt under my wheels
i'm stuck in traffic
get me out
let me out
i hate being stuck in traffic
the fumes irritate me
the engine noise annoys me
a bee comes through my window
it lands on my arm
crawls up the sleeve of my shirt
tickles me
i accidentally squash it
it doesn't sting me
and i don't know why
i want to know why
i get a sudden sense of deja vu
see a girl i know
she walks past my car
shout hi
and call her name
but she doesn't respond
at least her lips don't move
neither does she look my way
then the traffic is moving again
now i'm lost
down an unknown street
how come i get lost so easily when i'm driving
i can never seem to find my way
anywhere
even a simple journey
takes much longer than it should
because i can't follow maps
can't remember instructions
my mind wanders
i get lost just driving around this city
and i've lived here forever
take the next left
then the next right
then third on the right just after
the traffic lights
i still get lost
i take a wrong turn
the wrong exit at the roundabout
i doubleback on myself
go 'round in circles
i'm in the wrong lane
cut up another driver
get annoyed
hot under the collar
'til my face is flushed
my heart begins to thump
passengers getting fidgety
they try to give me simple instructions
but i still get 'em wrong
i just can't find my way
it's a kind of metropodyslexia
i cannot recognise cities
cities make me act this way
i just get lost too easily

Daye 77 / Point Judith

crestfallen and broken breast
i feel a full shadow
i see a spur
digging snails on the rocks
and it’s low tide
and there’s diamonds in the ocean
but if there’s a moth
winging out over the waves in the sunlight
then two spiders meet on a rock
but they’re the same anyhow so...
it’s all so still here I...
little waves spill over little rocks
you can peel off mica from the rocks
as it shines like smooth silver
but you know there’s more than this
’cause you can see the boats sailing

and the gulls fly by fishing
and there’s a lighthouse in the distance
but...
it’s all so quiet that..
why disturb the silence
so go away in the moonlight
and bring back a starfish
settle back easy
and make up your mind to stay
i’ve earned a fortune
and there’s not much more to say
i’m livin’ easy
smooth as silk these days
i see that you’re fearful
haven’t changed your ways
settle back easy
and make up your mind to stay
the country’s cleaner
and i’ve earned a fortune
and you don’t have to pay
just settle back easy
and make up your mind to stay
~ Jandek

Daye 76 / The Six O'Clock Bus

2012's the year baby
but it won't be like the film
which i watched last night
with one of my boys
we sat openmouthed
the cinema walls shook
the seats rattled
a supersize me pepsi
a carton of popcorn
and a bag of mint aero bubbles
on his knee
me yawning and trying not to fall asleep
in the heat of the cinema
as the world began to come apart before our eyes
in vainglorious
hollywoodblockbusterdisastermovievision
with a laugh out loud crap script
fuckoff car chases
and 'yes mister president sir!' salutes
i was a good daddy
i answered all of my son's whipered questions
dad isn't that the guy out of east is east
dad that can't really happen can it
dad what country are they in now
dad is that mt everest
dad what time is it
dad is the film nearly finished
no it won't be like the film
it will be more like
the six o'clock bus
which i read years ago
when i was not well and still seeing
multicoloured butterflies everywhere
yeah the onset will be gradual
and more subtle
and more unreal
and more in the head
the first trump will sound
and people won't even hear it
but nevertheless they'll stop believing
and start believing in something else
tap into the cosmic consciousness
follow a david icke
or a ronald weinland
rev moon
david koresh, deceased
l. ron hubbard, also deceased
matter will evaporate into spirit
spirit will condense into matter
there will be false christs
religious hucksters
there will be false prophets
false profits
the world economy will begin to collapse
and there will be violence on the streets
and anarchy and stupidity and fucking in the streets
and there will be anger everywhere
and there will be cynicism
and there will be bloodshed
and there will be random acts of terrorism
and the weather will go funny
the temperature will go through the roof
rainfall is on the increase
snowstorms blizzards hurricanes floods
forest fires and droughts
conspiracy theories will abound
we've been set up
only the illuminati or the mega rich have any chance of survival
the govt. are hiding something from us
the aliens are coming
they're already here
and there'll be earthquakes
and there will be volcanic activity
and there will be tidal waves
and there will be famines
and we'll all get the heebie jeebies
captain trips
or swine flu
or bird flu
or light flu
or ebola
there'll be epidemics and pandemics
yes there'll be plagues
and there will be praying
and there'll be wars
and there will be warnings of comets
or roving rogue asteroids
or planet x
alien shape-shifters
lizards
the invaders
and the earth's poles will shift
like they have done many times before in the distant past
you don't believe it
well why do you think they've found fossilised fishes
at the top of the himalayas
and what do you think is buried beneath all that ice at the south pole
the laws of physics will stop working
one by one the lights will wink out
the earth will cease it's groaning
and will grind slowly
to a
halt

Daye 75 / Back To The Garden

it happened years ago
when i was very young
had an urge to get back to the garden
dreamed i was made of starstuff
took all of my clothes off in a field
for a photo shoot one afternoon
somewhere in south devon
where the summer is erotic
when the sun is up and blazing
the fields are green and yellow
and surrounded by blue hills
and the rustle of a few leafy trees
we find a nice field
we stop the turquoise bus
take off my clothes
to walk about naked
and it feels good
and so natural
feeling closer to nature
we have a short walk
and then lie back in the long grass
watching the sky
it's so quiet
i watch a beetle as it climbs up a stalk of grass
hearing it's legs brushing against the leaves
the insects are all around me now
the ants and the grasshoppers
butterflies and ladybirds fly in
to settle next to my ear
seconds minutes hours
days and weeks and months
years... decades... centuries...
millennia pass
and we're all still in the field
a baby cries in the distance
no it's not a baby
it's a crow in the next field
somebody picks up a camera
takes a few snaps
i sit up to look
as the sun goes behind a cloud
oops no clouds
no it's an aeroplane passing overhead
only there's no sound
i look upwards
it's not an aeroplane
it's something other than that
but i can't think of a name for what i can see above me
just hanging there
twinkle twinkle
suspended
like a diamond in the sky...
stationary
and so are we
it watches us
and we watch it
a standoff develops
then...
the air is very still
the daylight is soft
is it coming closer?
yes very very slowly
is it coming closer?
yes very very cautiously
is it getting brighter?
oh it's only the sun
i want my mum...

i'm driving the bus
heading nowhere
heading further furthur
everyone on the bus sits in silence
we're lost
and going 'round in circles
we keep passing the same few fields and hedgerows
only each time we drive past them they look a little different
and there's a deafening roar in my ears
it's coming from within
the moon is up
is that the time then?
didn't think we'd been out so long
must've been asleep at the wheel
i wind down the window
slow down to 5mph
the bus is
a large turquoise slug
crawling along the a38
our side of the road is deserted
the few cars we come across are all headed in the opposite direction
i notice that my watch has stopped
and the glass cover is cracked
i can only get static on the radio
and one of our headlights is off
i'm swerving across the road
or the road is swerving across me
and somebody groans in the back of the bus
and it sounds like a bomb going off
and somebody whimpers in the back of the bus
and it sounds like the end of the world
i recognize our little house in the distance
moonlit and beautiful
but something isn't right
more than moonlight
the house is lit up like a christmas tree
and as we come down the hill
i notice the shape in the field next door
obtuse angles
teardrops and spheres
it wasn't there yesterday
which is a lifetime ago
and as robert service said
there are strange things done in the midnight sun

Daye 74 / Katie And I

one night
katie and i
climbed up onto stormy point
to sit for a while
in the darkness
watching the world carrying on below us
we drank red wine
ate cheese and apples and chocolates
told tales to each other
and to the ghosts who lived in the woods
most of whom were content
to flit in and out of our sight occasionally
until some came right out of the trees
they hovered just above the ground
leaving a silver trail as they moved around
we coaxed one of them
into a beautiful glass bottle
and we took it home with us
we even gave it a name
until i began to feel sorry for it
and one night months later i opened the bottle
to set it free

but the ghost would not leave our house
now it roams at will
the small brown attic
the white staircase
and the silver kitchen
sometimes it plays a few stray notes
on the harmonium or the piano
or it strums a half-chord on one of the guitars
sometimes it drums softly on our bedroom door
at 3am in the morning
or sings our children back to sleep when they awake
in the middle of the night
it watches
over us
it's here now
looking over my shoulder as i type

years later
we went back to stormy point
and we walked out onto the edge
in the night blue dark
we dared not look down
but we looked down
caught a glimpse of a tiny silver boy
and then another
the glowing ghosts who came out of the trees to play that night
said that the silver boys were from the future
we were mad and we were glad
and we were heavenly
and katie and i used to sleep through the mornings
to sing and work and play all through the night
and we saved up all of our dreams
to spend them only on the things we needed most

Daye 73 / Sky Blue

C.o.M. is sky blue
sky blue tower blocks
sky blue streets
airliner dreaming as it sails over the city
sky blue vapour trail in the sky blue sky
huge shadow passing over the parks
and the rivers and gardens
cutting the city in half
the north and the south
and north is strange
people stop what they are doing
to gaze up into the sky
and some of them see nothing at all
except the sky blue of the city
and the sun
raining down sky blue light
onto the meadows
and onto the people that walk through them
or live in them

the lake is covered
by the sky blue dog of a mountain shadow
and the trees that circled it
have been cut down
their warm sap mixes with the gold sand
as what's left of the forest
waves and weaves itself skyward
sings it's lonely song
and people stop what they are doing
and gaze into the distance
some of them hear nothing at all
except the sky blue hum of the city
and the sun
singing down sky blue light
onto the meadows
onto the people that walk through them
or live in them

sky blue lightning creeps along my arm
it dreams and glows and grows
and fills the spaces between
the masts and minarets
there is a naked singularity
where the skyline suddenly plummets into sky blue nothingness
and from children's mouths come strange songs
of the electricity of love and of sky blue pink
childe with the sky blue hair
combs out her tresses beneath the sky blue august moon
and leans out over the balcony
people stop what they are doing
to look into her mirror
some of them feel nothing at all
except the sky blue breezes drifting from the city
and the sun
pressing down sky blue light
onto the meadows
onto the people that walk through them
or live in them

Daye 72 / The Ultimate Laptop

i could call down the birds
from the tops of trees
you could walk out at night under the heavy stars
and remember your past lives
if i concentrated hard
i could throw off sparks from my fingertips
but you could dream out aloud all along the avenue
you could hear sounds that remained hidden to me
and music came from behind the locked windows and doors
of every house we passed
sometimes you could make things happen
by thinking about them
golden holes would appear in your head
and through the holes i could see images
from every corner of the universe
or hear the sounds
of the sprites and cherubim that live inside the aum
i could forget nothing
and you could forget everything
yet still remember who and what
you were supposed to be
i cried over girls i had lost
but you cried only for those who had lost themselves
i was a ghost
and the days fell against me
and the days fell through me
you were drugged
and making plans for the next bright life
i'd wake into a dead faint
and give away all of my possessions on a whim
you walk into the unending maze
it's made of stars and planets and dust and gravity
it elongates and shifts shape
the exit eludes you for lifetimes
but eventually you arrive back at the beginning
and space spreads itself like an angels wing
time turns inside out
snaps at you with it's silvered teeth
you have just reached the entropy capital of the universe
you are home
you are 10¹²⁰ bits of information
you are the ultimate laptop

Daye 71 / Starry Night

Daye 70 / The Midnight Verses

i am living for the last time
it's a typical december morning
dark miserable damp
8.30am on my back
gazing upwards through the window
and into the cloud
downstairs the telephone is ringing
i know it's st.b
'cos the phone always rings twice as urgently
whenever he's at the other end
and i know why he's ringing
is there some way that my music could be important
and my life happy at the same time?
he will ask
same sane question as he will always ask
this morning i'm too tired to answer
i'm falling backwards into a dream
and ghgggsus o is a beautiful city
i haven't been back for some while
the light is eerie
the evening has a strange lustre
the streets look really narrow
everything is smaller than i remember
the stars have thrown new constellations
the wood gives off a mysterious perfume
i meet a dreamer sent from where the water is dappled
where the lusty underground river comes up for air
she answers my questionings
and i answer hers
the waterbirds no longer dwell at the lake
they have fled the firs the white ash and the haze
the lake ladye speaks aloud
i clear my throat as we walk through the tartrazine forest
i am a carrier of the great green pain
the city has been overtaken by drifts of thorny flowers and thorny things
the corpse queen's white arms are dreamily upon her breast crossed
the whole of this cosmos is lost
the glaciers move in silence down from the pole
the air hovers frozen and still over our heads
the keys on my piano have no sustain
their pretty notes are stillborn on the air
a forgotten dream is awakened
the rampant lionesses which once lined the petroglyph roads
have been broken up and removed
the twin-suns have dimmed
the king has sinned
we're interrupted by the telephone
nagging
i close my eyes
try to return
but i know i can never get back
i can't make the jump again so soon
so i go downstairs
pick up the phone
the voice at the other end of the line sounds like the north wind
the buzzer goes on my front door
and i can see two hunched figures through the frosted glass
nicky and mex are on my doorstep
nicky is red-eyed
and mex's words have already stopped making sense
these are the midnight verses
where i get up to sleep

Daye 69 / The Ghost Of A Flea

Daye 68 / A List Of Essentials

1. scribbled secret notebooks and wild typewritten pages - yr own joy
2. submissive to everything, open, listening
3. do not accept loss
4. never get drunk or high outside yr own home
5. be in love with yr life - be in love with everybody's life - be in love with everybody - be in love
6. something/anything/everything that you feel will find its own form
7. be the crazy dumbsaint of the mind
8. write what you want - the unspeakable visions of the individual
9. you are in a trance dreaming upon the person or object before you
10. remove inhibition
11. write in recollection and amazement of yourself
12. remember where you came from and remember where you are going to
13. believe in the holy contour of life
14. you are struggling to sketch the flow that already exists intact in yr mind
15. keep track of every day - the date emblazoned in yr morning
16. attach no fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge
17. write for the world to read and to let them see yr exact pictures of it
18. composing - wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under
19. be a genius all the time
20. writer-director of earthly movies - sponsored & angeled in heaven

Daye 67 / Hymn To Pan

thrill with lissome lust of the light
o man! my man!
come careering out of the night of pan
Io pan!
Io pan! Io pan!
come over the sea
from sicily and from arcady
roaming as bacchus
with fauns and pards
and nymphs and satyrs for thy guards
on a milk-white ass
come over the sea
to me to me
come with apollo in bridal dress
(shepherdess and pythoness)
come with artemis
silken shod
and wash thy white thigh
beautiful god
in the moon of the woods
on the marble mount
the dimpled dawn of the amber fount
dip the purple of passionate prayer
in the crimson shrine
the scarlet snare
the soul that startles in eyes of blue
to watch thy wantonness weeping through
the tangled grove
the gnarled bole
of the living tree that is spirit and soul
and body and brain
come over the sea
(Io pan! Io pan!)
devil or god
to me to me
my man! my man!
come with trumpets sounding shrill
over the hill
come with drums low muttering
from the spring
come with flute and come with pipe
am I not ripe?
i who wait and writhe and wrestle
with air that hath no boughs to nestle
my body weary of empty clasp
strong as a lion and sharp as an asp
come o come
i am numb
with the lonely lust of devildom
thrust the sword through the galling fetter
all-devourer
all-begetter
give me the sign of the open eye
and the token erect of thorny thigh
and the word of madness and mystery
o pan! Io pan!
Io pan! Io pan pan! pan pan! pan!
i am a man
do as thou wilt
as a great god can
o pan! Io pan!
Io pan! Io pan pan!
i am awake
in the grip of the snake
the eagle slashes with beak and claw
the gods withdraw
the great beasts come
Io pan!
i am borne
to death on the horn
of the unicorn
i am pan! Io pan! Io pan pan! pan!
i am thy mate
i am thy man
goat of thy flock
i am gold
i am god
flesh to thy bone
flower to thy rod
with hoofs of steel i race on the rocks
through solstice stubborn to equinox
and i rave and i rape and i rip and i rend
everlasting
world without end
mannikin maiden maenad man
in the might of pan
Io pan! Io pan pan! pan! Io pan!
~Aleister Crowley