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 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 voice. We are drowning in the approaching shadows. I am dreaming and cannot hold it. I have seen.

(Dear the silence and the loss; we are born and fall. Dear Christ, you too are broken and lost and hanging like 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, 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. 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 they are, mercurial ghosts, formed
And moving; so the do move, and shout,
And pray, and cry, and
And the eye click on and the one shut
the dead. The clouds pass by.
God hovers us and shrieks
We hear the slightest crackle
see the slightest smiles
And we blur into our and the second great death
Whilst we chase chicks and dream of a paradise without wings or sorrow, Christ's tears fall over Jerusalem. The curtains are 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 the memory holds still; we watch the fireflies kiss the night and turn their backs on the Milky Way forever, as our eyes shower sweetness upon each other.

IV

I caught a of your eyes
Last in a restless dream
Awaking out of green field blue seas
Your eyes arose the spectres of flowers
I turned out the light and clicked the door
The fell
I had so many thoughts, so many
I made sense of at all
This green dream was the crickets sing
deserts and plains the lost feast
Whose shimmering teeth are marking the passing of
A cloud falls; a bird shivers and sings, its beak with night
Pure the dark is waiting, the darkness is hungry,
The deep is angry, and the telephone on
A film screen descends, and the silent play
Buster Keaton falls and rots, as Big Ben and boils
On an endless swamp; the silence is treacle
And calls us to prayer: paint God with blood
And fill haunted women knives and kites
And gauges and valves and make them weep long
To gaseous and clumsy mortality whilst fish
Remember, remember the ember
Embedded in your the soul watches TV
And gorges itself on and popcorn
Now that's what I decay decline and hard times
times, very hard times, Mr. Lindsay,
Hard times and winter so croool: you have my watch
At the of three and call for the police
But a time for tea and a time for expiring
And the to quit is in the post:
And you should your
Little cow and is gonna die

V

I was awake,
Of new to run to and hide within
And new to wear
And new to inhabit
And new to guzzle
And how I
The moon, and its of seeds
The moon tiding in your
The smell of blood breathing
And its taste in the sea in the shining my feet
it seemed as if they were made of dew
With pearls of huge
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 and the thumbthick twilight
The of you smiling
And laughing with
me
Typecast and
Smudged ghost
There is a so profound
So broken and
Torment, black
Slumbering our lips
And the lies we thoughtlessly
I knew your essence
At our time the sunset and I touched you
In the slanting room, south of the past
Between your belly and
This was a temporary paradise.
Lost as we it
And in tasting
So much is lacking now
I dreamt for bit lips, haunted like 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 have
And all the more
I slept on words and lines and
Of useless want, at the time
And lost you finally finally lost you finally
As the swept down and wept.

VII

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

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

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

morning
I have seen the face lies
I have seen the that smile
With false smiles arise
Look look: I have a book a book
has spelt out the future

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

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

The sun has just set
You
And it the moondfaced disc
pearl; white: opaline mouth
of hopes, of dreams, of fur
Catching the moths
dust in the dusk
Caused you to open alone and
Goodbye to us all in the room
In the eyewhite, skullwhite
In the bed,
Amongst the
Rita, ora pro nobis
I at you
And touched the
Hid concrete and cruelty
quia impossibile est
That the rise, rise, rise
And in the blink, in the
Of your eye, Rita,
I saw you dart, dark as an
the twilight made a rainbow
All around your
And I saw and was

IX

In
You are
As the tip of the tongue collapses the teeth
And the waters of dream mass
You are there: You are
and silently
You are the force of the
And birds, all birds, in the distance
Their at dawn
Where and terrible armies surge
And foreign towns collapse under the weight of terrors
All the advance, great armies,
for the Blood, the Sign, the Wound
And
The animals all Fishes too
I have judge me at
God's right
And the cats that arise from the dirt and the
And the and the scabby
The tortured the the tortured
I see them at night I drift
my sleep they gambol and play
And chase Balls or or Giants
They cards and click their eyes
They laugh, and tea at six
They laugh as they
And have TEETH the size of
And grip us and us down to the Deep
And we and expire and

I cannot bear this all any more. Not 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 reach the Kingdom
With a bow and a
You reach the Kingdom
I have caught and tortured
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: xaritow kai elhyeiaw.
So try to remove whatever may or spill or seed or spread on your breath:
Or your silence will seep the something you wished to avoid
It will be seen fine 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 mausoleums of and hopes.
When my friends into the great goodbye before my eyes
And I too move with them: without sound, words
floating through the streets, and the ears:
And the souls of the people who were me: I was in them
And they were in me. And off they go, a pint in hands,
A glint in eye, and I see tambourines drearily clapping out
The carnival march: "now you see'em, now you don't"
I did not want the world to stop; and I have 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 I shall wait 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 swans charging at the trees that you built on and killed under and dreamt under
With your beloved in first and last virginal Summer
you entered this world of blood and belief
And coupled under the Sun
And gave birth to children in 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 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 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 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 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.