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 smile and arise, and see someone I used to know sleeping; 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 a Roman 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 birth 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. 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 dead again: I click my
And they are, mercurial ghosts, formed
And moving; so the do move, and shout,
And pray, and cry, and
And the eye on and one: the one shut
Catches the dead. The clouds by.
God hovers over us and
We don't hear the crackle
Can't see the slightest
And we blur into our death and the great death
Whilst we chase chicks and dream of a paradise without wings or sorrow, Christ's 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 shrivelled 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 the fireflies kiss the night and turn their backs on the Milky Way forever, as our eyes shower sweetness upon each other.

IV

I a glimpse of your eyes
Last in a restless dream
Awaking out of green blue seas stars
Your eyes arose like the spectres of
I out the light and clicked fast the door
The fell
I had so thoughts, so many signs
I sense of nothing at all
green dream was unreal; the crickets sing
Across deserts and plains the lost
Whose shimmering teeth are marking the passing of
A cloud a bird shivers and sings, its beak stained with night
Pure gold: the is waiting, the darkness is hungry,
The deep is angry, and the rings on
A film screen descends, and the silent movies
Buster Keaton and rots, as Big Ben sings and boils
On an endless swamp; the silence is treacle
And calls us to prayer: paint God with your
And fill women with knives and kites
And gauges and valves and make weep long hymns
To gaseous and mortality whilst fish descend
Remember, the burning ember
Embedded in your chest: the watches TV
And gorges itself on blood and
Now that's what I decay decline and hard times
Hard times, very times, Mr. Lindsay,
times and winter so croool: you have stopped my watch
At the stroke of three and call for the
But there's a time for tea and a time for
And the to quit is in the post:
And you should know:
Little cow and is gonna die

V

I was awake,
Of new dystopias to run to and within
And new faces to
And new bodies to
And new lies to
And how I
The moon, and its sheets of
The moon in your body
The smell of your breathing
And its taste in the sea in the south shining my
Till it seemed as if they made of dew
With pearls of huge
Whilst your breath was
The upon my clock
And one each breath I came
To my and shining end

VI

All long long
Under the fly-dance and the twilight
The thought of you
And laughing children
me
Typecast and
Smudged gorgeous:
There is a love so
So and risen:
Torment, valley
Slumbering our lips
And the lies we thoughtlessly
I knew your essence
At our when the sunset and I touched you
In the room, just south of the past
your belly and thighs:
This was a deceitful paradise.
as we created it
And destroyed in
So much is lacking now
I dreamt for your bit lips, haunted waves
In the ecstatic 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 slept on words and lines and
Of useless want, at the time
And finally you finally finally lost you finally
As the moon swept and wept.

VII

Good How are you?
I have to say
I saw you of conquests
Of large wars, bigger

I am pleased to
houses are dead
Your children are full of
The are dead and the butterflies fall
God is
The is in the air
And the depths
I at us all

Good
The clouds of smoke
arise full of eyes of eyes
Your sons are suffocating their
And painting eyes on the
With tongues dipped in
Arise arise full of eyes of
And the depths
I to us all

Good
I seen the face that lies
I seen the lips that smile
With false smiles arise
look: I have read a book a book
That has out the future

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

From the depths
And from the loss
the depths from the depths
I have and added and have seen you all
Your children are dead and for you

The sun has already set
You
And behind it the moondfaced
Blue; pearl; white: mouth
of hopes, of dreams, of fur
Catching the that
Trail dust in the
Caused you to open alone and
to us all in the white room
In the eyewhite, room
In the bed,
Amongst the
Rita, ora pro nobis
I at you
And the earth
Hid under and cruelty
Credo quia est
That the rise, rise, rise
And in the blink, in the
Of your eye, Rita,
I saw you dart, dark as an
Whilst the twilight made a
All your passing
And I saw and was

IX

In
You are
As the tip of the tongue collapses towards the
And the waters of dream around
You are You are there
and silently
You are the of the wave
And birds, all birds, reel in the
Their at dawn
profound and terrible armies surge
And foreign towns collapse under the weight of terrors
All the dead advance, armies,
Martyrs for the Blood, the Sign, the
And
The animals all sorted too
I eaten judge me at
right hand
And the cats arise from the dirt and the filth
And the and the scabby
The tortured the tortured the
I see them at before I drift
During my sleep gambol and play
And chase Balls or or Giants
They cards and click their eyes
laugh, and take tea at six
They as they tumble
And have TEETH the of cloudbursts
And us and take us down to the Deep
And we sigh and and

I cannot this all any more. Not enough silence. But in the desert I sometimes 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 will the Kingdom
I caught and tortured Time
And I

We are surrounded for the last 2000 years by a EMPIRE OF DEATH and EMPIRE OF BLOOD: this was all after the Crucifixion:
i uflow tou yeou: plhrhw kai elhyeiaw.
So try to remove whatever may dream or spill or seed or on your breath:
Or your silence will seep into the you wished to avoid
It will be seen some day, all right, yes, all right:
"I will make you mine,", just you and I, whilst our breaths pass between us and spiral off to of desires and hopes.
my friends pass into the great goodbye before my eyes
And I too move with them: sound, just words
Left through the streets, and the ears:
And the of the people who were with me: I was in them
And were in me. And off they go, a pint in their hands,
A in their eye, and I see tambourines drearily clapping out
The pavine march: "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 wait till the postman for toast and - With notes of the obsequies at 12 -
With your teeth on edge at the faint sound of the swans charging at the trees that you swings on and killed under and dreamt under
your beloved in that first and last virginal Summer
When you entered world of blood and belief
And coupled under the Sun
And gave birth to 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 laughing upon them. Pilate his hands. He arose and washed his hands. And the sword fell.

Meanwhile, in the house with nothing at home: in the cafe with plates 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 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.