Luyện nghe bài hát Hypnagogue

I

Behind my walls are my Cats. And behind my Cats is a Peacock singing to me of my death and yours. I said to her "In the silence of an eye, I shall smile and arise, and see someone I used to know in her room in her bed in her body I was in Paradise." I am awake in the sound of roses and a young girl's voice. We are drowning in the approaching shadows. I am dreaming and cannot hold it. I have seen.

(Dear Christ: the silence and the loss; we are born and fall. Dear Christ, you too are broken and lost and hanging like a standard over us all.)

II

Behind the line of my skull that hides behind my hair and skin, I see the selfsame skull of my father, and beyond the skull of my father, the skull of my grandfather, and the skull of my great grandfather, whom I never knew. And so on this line unto the alpha and omega point at infinity. With my eye - this fire, this fly, that sees everything and smiles, and comprehends nothing, and dies - I see all around my head and that end. I have invented myself; I have created myself; I am just a form of dream English, words stretched with skin and fear. From my eyes in my skull my father observes this immense and kaleidoscopic dream. By I am other than this. The mosquitoes rejoice in my skin. The lizard is on the ceiling above me. The shallow water pots deny the ants routes to food. There is no silence ever. The cicadas are omnipotent sound. The kampong is dark and still. I am not what I thought I was. I am not what I seem. Most of all, I am not what I am. I thought it was the news rushing down the wires, happy in death and fashion, spinning yo-yos and clacking its jaw, raising its eyes, mimicking dogs at play. The sun shuts down, and erases birdlight. And in this stunted eclipse I saw myself, some darkness at last tenously visible, love as the sweetest thing. Al Bowlly, Jack Buchanan, sing on, dreaming of the lamps and the beautiful ladies, bowed lips packed with blood, the staged kisses trembling under the placid stars, the coffee taken with cream and scones under the Viennese Moon; whilst we are weighed, we are judged, and twist in this storm like birds over sails.

III

I have caught the again: I click my eyes
And there are, mercurial ghosts, formed
And so the dead do move, and shout,
And pray, and cry, and
And the eye on and one: the one shut
the dead. The clouds pass by.
God hovers us and shrieks
We don't hear the crackle
Can't see the smiles
And we blur into our death and the second great
Whilst we chase chicks and dream of a paradise without wings or sorrow, Christ's tears fall over Jerusalem. The curtains are groggy with damp, and the rails, and the tracks and the tacks, and the black and the bats, and the shrill lights trip and laugh over the weeds and the blossoms, and throats open shut and sigh. I am the moon and the sun, the rising and the setting, the first and final breaths, and the product of the stars. I am some immortal and pointless dust.
Two bodies lie in bed for their brief moment together in eternity; the memory holds still; we watch the fireflies kiss the night and turn their backs on the Milky Way forever, as our eyes shower upon each other.

IV

I caught a of your eyes
Last night in a dream
Awaking out of field blue seas stars
Your eyes like the spectres of flowers
I turned out the light and clicked the door
The fell
I had so many thoughts, so many
I sense of nothing at all
This green dream was the crickets sing
Across deserts and plains the lost
shimmering teeth are marking the passing of time
A falls; a bird shivers and sings, its beak stained with night
Pure gold: the dark is waiting, the is hungry,
The deep is angry, and the telephone on
A film screen descends, and the silent movies
Buster Keaton falls and rots, as Big Ben and boils
On an endless swamp; the silence is thick
And calls us to prayer: paint God with blood
And fill haunted women with knives and
And gauges and valves and make them weep hymns
To gaseous and mortality whilst fish descend
Remember, remember the ember
Embedded in your the soul watches TV
And gorges itself on blood and
Now that's what I call decay and hard times
times, very hard times, Mr. Lindsay,
Hard times and winter so you have stopped my watch
At the of three and call for the police
But there's a for tea and a time for expiring
And the notice to quit is in the
And you should your
Little cow and calf is die

V

I was awake,
Of new to run to and hide within
And new faces to
And new bodies to
And new to guzzle
And how I
The moon, and its sheets of
The moon in your body
The smell of your breathing
And its in the sea in the south shining my feet
Till it seemed as if they were of dew
With pearls of beauty
your mouselike breath was
The hand my clock
And one breath I came nearer
To my and shining end

VI

All summer long
Under the fly-dance and the twilight
The of you smiling
And laughing with
me
Typecast and
Smudged ghost
There is a so profound
So and risen:
Torment, valley
between our lips
And the lies we wove
I your essence once
At our time when the sunset and I you
In the room, just south of the past
Between belly and thighs:
This was a deceitful paradise.
Lost as we it
And in tasting
So blood is lacking now
I dreamt for your bit lips, haunted waves
In the arch of evening:
You and the night, you and the
You and tomorrow, you and the
Stay stay away: stay away:
What we want we cannot
And all the more
I on words and lines and texts
Of want, staring at the time
And finally lost you finally finally lost you
As the moon down and wept.

VII

morning: How are you?
I called to say
I saw you of conquests
Of large wars, bigger

I am to say:
Your houses are
Your children are of flame
The horses are dead and the fall
God is
The is in the air
And the depths
I at us all

morning
The clouds of smoke
Arise arise of eyes of eyes
Your sons are their sisters
And eyes on the walls
With dipped in blood
Arise arise full of eyes of
And from the
I to us all

Good
I have seen the that lies
I have seen the lips smile
With smiles arise arise
Look look: I have a book a book
has spelt out the future

And from the
I see a arise arise
on his forehead many eyes eyes
And he is on a a horse a horse
With a of smoke behind its hooves
And I say from my depths
I have seen a emerge from a cloud of wings
Arise from eyes from eyes
And a number is is sss6een is sss6een

the depths beauty
And from the depths
the depths from the depths
I have called and and have seen you all
Your are dead and waiting for you

The sun has already set
You
And behind it the moondfaced
pearl; white: opaline mouth
of hopes, of dreams, of fur
Catching the moths
Trail dust in the
Caused you to alone and sign
Goodbye to us all in the room
In the eyewhite, room
In the bed,
Amongst the
Santa Rita, ora pro
I at you
And touched the
Hid under concrete and
quia impossibile est
That the dead rise, rise,
And in the blink, in the
Of your eye, Rita,
I saw you dart, as an eclipse
the twilight made a rainbow
All your passing
And I saw and was

IX

In
You are
As the tip of the tongue towards the teeth
And the of dream mass around
You are there: You are
Suddenly and
You are the force of the
And birds, all birds, in the distance
Their at dawn
Where profound and armies surge
And foreign collapse under the weight of prophesied terrors
All the advance, great armies,
Martyrs for the Blood, the Sign, the
And
The animals all Fishes too
I eaten judge me at
God's hand
And the cats that arise from the dirt and the
And the starving and the
The the tortured the tortured
I see them at night before I
During my they gambol and play
And chase or Children or Giants
They cards and click their eyes
They laugh, and tea at six
They laugh as tumble
And have the size of cloudbursts
And us and take us down to the Deep
And we sigh and and

I cannot bear this all any more. Not enough silence. But in the desert I see ships and hear the black diamond express near the station before mine. Caesar: where are you going? He said to me, grinning:

You will reach the
a bow and a sweep
You reach the Kingdom
I have caught and Time
And I

We are surrounded for the last 2000 years by a VAST EMPIRE OF DEATH and EMPIRE OF this was all after the Crucifixion:
i tou yeou: plhrhw xaritow kai elhyeiaw.
So try to remove whatever may or spill or seed or spread on your breath:
Or your silence will seep into the you wished to avoid
It be seen some fine day, all right, yes, all right:
"I will make you mine,", just you and I, our breaths pass between us and spiral off to mausoleums of desires and hopes.
When my friends pass into the great before my eyes
And I too move with them: without sound, words
Left floating the streets, and the ears:
And the of the people who were with me: I was in them
And they were in me. And off they go, a pint in hands,
A glint in their eye, and I see tambourines drearily out
The pavine carnival "now you see'em, now you don't"
I did not the world to stop; and I have seen it rush past me
As a ferocious fury, but such angelic fury, and I was taking the Temperature of a thousand changes of mind: I might take you now, but perhaps I shall till the postman comes for toast and - With notes of the obsequies at 12 -
With your teeth on edge at the faint sound of the charging at the trees that you built swings on and killed under and dreamt under
With your beloved in that first and virginal Summer
When you this world of blood and belief
And coupled under the Sun
And birth to children in your cries

I am to die.
I am to die.
I am to die.

"Jesus snorted; he was moved to his guts;" and the dust was everywhere, and Pilate arose in his fury. You have a boat waiting, friend, and it is time to board: all aboard, all aboard. "We don't save the living here." (The cyclamen opens at evening, and the world was gentle tonight; summery, hints of rose and rouge in the sky in the north over the dome of the glassgreenhouse.) Pilate arose. And washed his hands. I washed my hands; I cleared dust of them; I can see specks of blood upon them. Pilate washes his hands. He arose and washed his hands. And the sword fell.

Meanwhile, in the house with nothing at home: in the cafe with of liver and kidneys and offal; in the slaughterhouse near the schoolyard; in the damaged rooms of the schoold ma'am at rest; in the fallen arches of the brilliant silence, coloured at dawn, and twilit by the twittering of birds; in the moon shining down on the shrew on my step; at the freshly cut grass; at the sound of the bell making toast or tea or time buzz by with loud whoops of shouting "I am here I am there; catch me if you can, catch me if you dare". At all th4ese moments, and all these daydreams, and all our breaths which dream idly into deaths, deaths: at all these deaths, I remember you beautiful with love and fear with swooping hair biting the words our of your mind, and delivering them to me hating to pass the time, which swept by, as proud as a ghost, whilst we tossed coins to see who would disappear first.