DOWN AMONG THE BONES

DOWN AMONG THE BONES

The slumbering giant,

I saw  his crematory eye

spark and ignite

the memory of the night hour

whose hour has come

before his red rimmed eye?

I pick myself up among the bones

You are the dreamer and you are the dream

You scatter rose petals into the sea

I separate the chaff from the grain

I am the gleaner, I am the dream

and the mud oozes over your dreams

What seed is this that sprouts

from the breast of the universe?

From the edge of night you look up

and you stare into that vacant sky

You look for the edge

The shaft of light penetrates

the eye of the dreamer

the womb of the universe

where the tidal forces of your life flows

It is the spine of the ridge

where the red wind blows

In the mud you find the edge

the edge is in the arms of the red wind.

1979, 1980
Another version was published in The Program, vol. 1, no.3, 1979
 Down among the bones

Imagine the red wind as it blows at your feet

the ridge of Albion rises like Henrys bones

the bones he forcot to take

they lie in the uoid

the mud has lost its cutting edge

the edge of night falls on the bones

they are wrapped in rose petals and buried in the mud

and the mud oozes over your boots and the mud is in your ears i
n your mouth your eyes

It flows between the cracks and crevasses it covers your bones 
lying there on the ridge and you stare up into that vacant sky
 the red wind blows thru your teeth

And I sat down before the vividness of dreams waking the slumbering giant, 
I saw his crematory eye spark and ignite the memory of the night hour 
whose hour has come before his red rimmed eye?

I pick myself up among the bones

you are the dreamer, and you are the dream

you scatter rose petals into the sea

I separate the chaff from the grain

I am the gleaner, and the mud oozes over your dreams

What seed is this that sprouts from the breast of the universe? 
 from the edge of night you look up 
and you stare into that vacant sky you look for the edge

The shaft of light penetrates the eye of the dreamer

the womb of the universe where the tidal forces of your life flows

it is the spine of the ridge where the red wind blows

in the mud you find the edge

1979 version




 

































This version was published in The Program, vol. 1, no.3, 1979