Luyện nghe bài hát Hypnagogue

I

Behind my walls are my Cats. And behind my Cats is a Peacock 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 girl's 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, 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. 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, 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 caught the dead again: I click my eyes
And there they are, ghosts, formed
And moving; so the do move, and shout,
And pray, and cry, and
And the eye click on and the one shut
Catches the dead. The pass by.
God hovers us and shrieks
We don't hear the crackle
Can't see the slightest
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 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 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 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 stars
Your eyes arose like the spectres of
I out the light and clicked fast the door
The book
I had so thoughts, so many signs
I made sense of at all
This green was unreal; the crickets sing
Across deserts and the lost feast
Whose shimmering teeth are the passing of time
A cloud falls; a bird 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 movies play
Buster Keaton and rots, as Big Ben sings and boils
On an endless swamp; the silence is thick
And calls us to paint God with your blood
And fill haunted women with and kites
And gauges and valves and make weep long hymns
To and clumsy mortality whilst fish descend
Remember, remember the ember
Embedded in your the soul watches TV
And itself on blood and popcorn
Now what I call decay decline and hard times
times, very hard times, Mr. Lindsay,
Hard times and winter so croool: you have stopped my
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:
cow and calf 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 to guzzle
And how I
The moon, and its of seeds
The moon tiding in your
The of your blood breathing
And its taste in the sea in the south shining my
Till it as if they were made of dew
With pearls of beauty
Whilst mouselike breath was
The hand my clock
And one each breath I came
To my and shining end

VI

All long summer
Under the and the thumbthick twilight
The of you smiling
And with children
me
Typecast and
Smudged gorgeous:
There is a love so
So and risen:
Torment, valley
between our lips
And the lies we wove
I knew your essence
At our time when the and I touched you
In the room, just south of the past
Between belly and thighs:
This was a temporary paradise.
Lost as we it
And destroyed in
So blood is lacking now
I dreamt for your bit lips, haunted like
In the ecstatic of evening:
You and the night, you and the
You and tomorrow, you and the
Stay away: 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 lost you finally finally lost you finally
As the moon down and wept.

VII

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

I am pleased to
Your are dead
Your children are of flame
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 arise
Arise arise of eyes of eyes
Your sons are suffocating their
And painting on the walls
tongues dipped in blood
Arise arise full of eyes of
And the depths
I to us all

Good
I have seen the face lies
I seen the lips that smile
With smiles arise arise
Look I have read a book a book
That has spelt out the

And from the
I see a arise 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 from a cloud of wings
Arise arise eyes from eyes
And a is sss6een is sss6een is sss6een

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

The sun has already set
You
And behind it the disc
Blue; pearl; opaline mouth
of hopes, of dreams, of fur
Catching the moths
dust in the dusk
Caused you to alone and sign
to us all in the white room
In the eyewhite, room
In the bed,
the dead:
Santa Rita, ora pro
I at you
And the earth
Hid under concrete and
Credo quia est
That the dead rise, rise,
And in the blink, in the
Of eye, Santa Rita,
I saw you dart, dark as an
Whilst the made a rainbow
All around your
And I saw and was

IX

In
You are
As the tip of the collapses towards the teeth
And the waters of mass around
You are there: You are
and silently
You are the of the wave
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 dead advance, armies,
Martyrs for the Blood, the Sign, the
And
The animals all sorted too
I have eaten me at
right hand
And the that arise from the dirt and the filth
And the starving and the
The tortured the tortured the
I see them at night before I
During my sleep they and play
And chase Balls or or Giants
They cards and click their eyes
They laugh, and tea at six
They as they tumble
And have the size of cloudbursts
And grip us and us down to the Deep
And we sigh and and

I cannot bear 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 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 VAST EMPIRE OF DEATH and EMPIRE OF this was all after the Crucifixion:
i uflow tou plhrhw xaritow 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 fine day, all right, yes, all
"I will make you mine,", just you and I, whilst our breaths between us and spiral off to mausoleums of desires and hopes.
When my friends pass into the great goodbye before my
And I too move with them: without sound, just
Left through the streets, and the ears:
And the souls of the people who with me: I was in them
And they in me. And off they go, a pint in their 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 want the 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 comes for toast and - With notes of the obsequies at 12 -
With teeth on edge at the faint sound of the swans charging at the trees that you built swings on and killed under and dreamt under
With your beloved in that first and last Summer
When you entered world of blood and belief
And under the Tropical 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. 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 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.