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i. Eyewitness Still waiting for my saviour, storms tear me limb from limb; my fingers feel like seaweed... I`m so far out I`m too far in. I am a lonely man...my solitude is true my eyes have borne stark witness and now my knights are numbered too. I`ve seen the smiles on dead hands-- the stars shine, but they`re not for me. I prophesy disaster and then I count the cost.... I shine but, shining, dying, I know that I am almost lost. On the table lies blank paper/my tower is built on stone/ I only have blunt scissors/I only have the bluntest home.... I`ve been the witness, and the seal of death lingers in the molten wax that is my head. When you see the skeletons of sailing-ship spars sinking low You`ll begin to wonder if the points of all the ancient myths are solemnly directed straight at you... ii. Pictures/Lighthouse (Eddies/rocks/ships/collision/remorse.) iii. Eyewitness No time now for contrition: the time for that`s long past. The walls are thin as tissue and if I talk I`ll crack the glass. So I only think on how it might have been, locked in silent monologue, in silent scream Anyway, I`m much too tired to speak and, as the waves crash on the bleak stones of the tower, I start to freak.... ...and find that I am overcome... iv. S.H.M. `Unreal, unreal!` ghost helmsmen scream and fall in through the sky, not breaking through my seagull shrieks... no breaks until I die: the spectres scratch on window-slits-- hollowed faces, mindless grins only intent on destroying what they`ve lost. I craw the wall till steepness ends in the vertical fall; my pail has sailed into the sea: no joking hopes at dawn. White bone shine in the iron-jaw mask lost mastheads pierce the freezing dark and parallel my isolated tower.... no paraffin for the flame no harbour left to gain v. The Presence of the Night/Kosmos Tours `Alone, alone,` the ghosts all call, pinpoint me in the light. The only life I feel at all is the presence of the night. Would you cry if I died? Would you cry if I died? Would you catch the final words of mine? Would you catch my words? I know that there`s no time I know that there`s no rhyme... false signs find me I don`t want to hate, I just want to grow; why can`t I let me live and be free?..but I die very slowly alone. I know no more ways, I am so afraid, myself won`t let me just be myself and so I am completely alone.... The maelstrom of my memory is a vampire and it feeds on me now, staggering madly, over the brink I fall. vi. (Custard`s) Last Stand Lighthouses might house the key but can I reach the door? I want to walk on the sea so that I may better find ashore... but how can I ever keep my feet dry? I scan the horizon I must keep my eyes on all parts of me. Looking back on the years it seems that I have lost the way: Like a dog in the night, I have run to a manger ...now I am the stranger I stay in. All of the grief I have seen leaves me chasing solitary peace; but I hold experience in my head.... I`m too close to the light I don`t think I see right, for I blind me.... vii. The Clot Thickens WHERE is the God that guides my hand? HOW can the hands of others reach me? WHEN will I find what I grope for? WHO is going to teach me? I am me/me are we/we can`t see any way out of here. Crashing sea/atrophied history: Chance has lost my Guinevere.... I don`t want to be one wave in the water But sea will drag me deep One more haggard DROWNED MAN... I can see the Lemmings coming, but I know I`m just a man; Do I join or do I founder? Which can is the best I may? viii. Land`s End (Sineline)/We Go Now Oceans drifting sideways, I am pulled into the spell; I feel you around me...I know you well. Stars slice horizons where the lines stand much too stark; I feel I am drowning...hands stretch in the dark. Camps of panoply and majesty, what is Freedom of Choice? Where do I stand in the pageantry...whose is my voice? It doesn`t feel so very bad now: I think the end is the start. Begin to feel very glad now: ALL THINGS ARE A PART ALL THINGS ARE APART ALL THINGS ARE A PART.
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