The Unicorn
My lady has a unicorn,
That lives on dreams alone;
She brings him roses with silver thorns,
He sleeps on the courtyard stones.
He drinks of glassy waters,
And walks her pathless lawns,
Waiting for the sun to set,
Then waiting for the dawn.
My lady has an orchard
Where the apples never fall -
The sun through leaves is cool and green
And shines on one and all.
The season never changes;
The weather is always fine,
The birds that sing see everything,
And always sing on time.
My lady has a unicorn
She feeds on only words,
On tales of shipwrecked mariners
And chivalry with swords.
He listens, waits for her to call;
She sings so prettily.
Then he grinds his head on the garden walls
And weeps most bitterly.
David Ruaune
"All our bleeding yesterdays,"
of those who dwell on days before,
that's what I hear my father say;
but what's that clawing at the door?
It's all our bleeding yesterdays,
come crawling back for more.
David Ruaune
Switchboard of the Holy Ghost
We are trying to connect you.
Please hold, during the silence.
The person you are calling,
Knows you are waiting.
The person you are calling,
Knows you are waiting.
The person you are calling,
Knows you are waiting, Knows you are calling, Knows you are waiting.
Please hold on
During the silence.
David Ruaune
An Offering
for B, as ever.
What do I bring?
What am I offering?
Fear of myself and my foolishness-
Of saying too little,
Or saying too much;
Clamming or opening up.
Of my childishness or my mannishness;
My heart-aching silliness.
Of thinking I’m clever and then pain
Rearing unexpected yet again
Reeling in traffic and rain.
I make here
An offering of my fear.
David Ruaune
The Society of Friends
Fare-thee-weal, apparat-chicks and dicks,
received wisdom, professional attitude;
No more your fucked-up false-comradely
confident insolence - (fit only
for the carrion-field of a nightmare-history, akcherly) -
You shall not be heard.
True lovers, Bring me the new wine -
We'll mull it by the fire
At our table in the tavern
At the crossroads of this our earth;
With our hearts like open poppies,
Proud of the soul's wound, we shall proceed to build
The Once and Future Society of Friends.
David Ruaune
copyright
Sunday 7 December 2008
Saturday 19 July 2008
Two Angels
Two angels come to visit me;
Their voices weave each passing hour -
One says that all there is, is love;
One says that all there is, is power.
Their branches twine the star-pierced sky,
Their roots the granite rock below;
And which the fiercer devil is,
I guess I’ll never know.
David Ruaune
...
Monday 28 May 2007
The Language-Tree of the Feral Child
I broke the surface, ranged antennae bright,
Limbs of quicksilver eagerly outstretched,
And waited. Just be patient; they will come.
Stay ready to interpret. Surface to depth.
All combinations possible.
This is the time, by rights, they should be here,
Marching the night in rank – I dread I’m deaf
Or broken. I will try harder. I can hear.
I scour for sense, drill deep, crack meaning’s bone,
Fine-comb for syntax strands of howling noise
From dogs and such, or storms from void to void.
I failed my sole task, through no fault of my own,
Waiting for you, as my bright awakening morn
Darkened to baffled horror.
David Ruaune
copyright
Limbs of quicksilver eagerly outstretched,
And waited. Just be patient; they will come.
Stay ready to interpret. Surface to depth.
All combinations possible.
This is the time, by rights, they should be here,
Marching the night in rank – I dread I’m deaf
Or broken. I will try harder. I can hear.
I scour for sense, drill deep, crack meaning’s bone,
Fine-comb for syntax strands of howling noise
From dogs and such, or storms from void to void.
I failed my sole task, through no fault of my own,
Waiting for you, as my bright awakening morn
Darkened to baffled horror.
David Ruaune
copyright
Revenge Of The Rose
Who first made of me emblem, doomed me thus;
Early bloom, suitors pluck impatiently
Stems like helpless arms, raised up, aghast,
Give no protection. The gift of my little death
Works wonders, means he means it, seals the deal.
False hearts or true, all take too easily –
Blossoms; too open a face, that sets aflame;
A heart come apart, wrecked rupture, inside out.
Thorn cannot save me, yet if rude hands, too sure,
A gash I’ll give – you too can bloom, vain boy.
May he forsake her. May she break his heart.
I’m red as lust, as blushes, red as blood,
As rage; I am the rose and thorn of love –
And whether I die for true love or pretend,
I’ll be your pitiless God, your crimson end.
David Ruaune
copyright
Early bloom, suitors pluck impatiently
Stems like helpless arms, raised up, aghast,
Give no protection. The gift of my little death
Works wonders, means he means it, seals the deal.
False hearts or true, all take too easily –
Blossoms; too open a face, that sets aflame;
A heart come apart, wrecked rupture, inside out.
Thorn cannot save me, yet if rude hands, too sure,
A gash I’ll give – you too can bloom, vain boy.
May he forsake her. May she break his heart.
I’m red as lust, as blushes, red as blood,
As rage; I am the rose and thorn of love –
And whether I die for true love or pretend,
I’ll be your pitiless God, your crimson end.
David Ruaune
copyright
Sunday 27 May 2007
Brokenbrow and Havenhand
“Brokenbrow and Havenhand”
Brass-plated, fixed upon the door
One phrase the two, yet seldom seen
Together now, for many a year.
Brokenbrow, the elder partner,
All must pass; He will not smile -
Furrowed in subtlety, each year harsher,
Sharp as a paper-cut, never still.
Beneath the tomes of precedent
Old Brokenbrow would pace the floor
Whilst outside in the cold and snow,
Havenhand failed to help the poor.
But who’d have thought – look to the bar!
Arguing council, church, and mill,
Drunken in subtleties, loud yet obscure,
Avid and stubborn, wrangling still.
David Ruaune.
copyright
Brass-plated, fixed upon the door
One phrase the two, yet seldom seen
Together now, for many a year.
Brokenbrow, the elder partner,
All must pass; He will not smile -
Furrowed in subtlety, each year harsher,
Sharp as a paper-cut, never still.
Beneath the tomes of precedent
Old Brokenbrow would pace the floor
Whilst outside in the cold and snow,
Havenhand failed to help the poor.
But who’d have thought – look to the bar!
Arguing council, church, and mill,
Drunken in subtleties, loud yet obscure,
Avid and stubborn, wrangling still.
David Ruaune.
copyright
Friday 25 May 2007
Favourite poems by other people
...
I will be adding some comments on the poems below soon, but for now simply include them as favourites.
anyone lived in a pretty how town
by e e cummings
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did
Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)
they said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
They Flee From Me
by Sir Thomas Wyatt
They fle from me, that sometyme did me seke
With naked fote, stalking in my chambre.
I have seen theirn gentill, tame, and meke,
That nowe are wyld, and do not remembre
That sometyme they put theimself in daunger
To take bred at my hand; and nowe they raunge
Besely seking with a continuell chaunge.
Thancked be fortune, it hath ben othrewise
Twenty tymes better; but ons, in speciall,
In thyn arraye, after a pleasaunt gyse,
When her lose gowne from her shoulders did fall,
And she me caught in her armes long and small,
Therewith all swetely did me kysse,
And softely saide: "Dere hert, howe like you this?"
It was no dreme: I lay brode waking.
But all is torned, thorough my gentilnes,
Into a straunge fasshion of forsaking;
And I have leve to goo of her goodness,
And she also to use new fangilnes:
But syns that I so kyndely am served,
I would fain knowe what she hath deserved.
Into My Heart an Air that Kills
by A. E. Housman
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
Pied Beauty
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Glory be to God for dappled things--
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced--fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise Him.
Fairy Tale
by Miroslav Holub
He built himself a house,
his foundations,
his stones,
his walls,
his roof overhead,
his chimney and smoke,
his view from the window.
He made himself a garden,
his fence,
his thyme,
his earthworm,
his evening dew.
He cut out his bit of sky above.
And he wrapped the garden in the sky
and the house in the garden
and packed the lot in a handkerchief
and went off
lone as an arctic fox
through the cold
unending
rain
into the world.
I will be adding some comments on the poems below soon, but for now simply include them as favourites.
anyone lived in a pretty how town
by e e cummings
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did
Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)
they said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
They Flee From Me
by Sir Thomas Wyatt
They fle from me, that sometyme did me seke
With naked fote, stalking in my chambre.
I have seen theirn gentill, tame, and meke,
That nowe are wyld, and do not remembre
That sometyme they put theimself in daunger
To take bred at my hand; and nowe they raunge
Besely seking with a continuell chaunge.
Thancked be fortune, it hath ben othrewise
Twenty tymes better; but ons, in speciall,
In thyn arraye, after a pleasaunt gyse,
When her lose gowne from her shoulders did fall,
And she me caught in her armes long and small,
Therewith all swetely did me kysse,
And softely saide: "Dere hert, howe like you this?"
It was no dreme: I lay brode waking.
But all is torned, thorough my gentilnes,
Into a straunge fasshion of forsaking;
And I have leve to goo of her goodness,
And she also to use new fangilnes:
But syns that I so kyndely am served,
I would fain knowe what she hath deserved.
Into My Heart an Air that Kills
by A. E. Housman
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
Pied Beauty
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Glory be to God for dappled things--
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced--fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise Him.
Fairy Tale
by Miroslav Holub
He built himself a house,
his foundations,
his stones,
his walls,
his roof overhead,
his chimney and smoke,
his view from the window.
He made himself a garden,
his fence,
his thyme,
his earthworm,
his evening dew.
He cut out his bit of sky above.
And he wrapped the garden in the sky
and the house in the garden
and packed the lot in a handkerchief
and went off
lone as an arctic fox
through the cold
unending
rain
into the world.
Thursday 24 May 2007
Lyrics
You’ll Be In Bed For Days
And Then You Realise
When the music changes that they’re playing
And you shift the final gear in what you’re saying
Everything slots into place
Then falls apart and into space
Perhaps most people have more underneath
Unless it’s just more reachable or doesn’t lie as deep
You know you can’t get home
Without the help of someone
Who might have their own agenda
As you realise
You’ve gone too far
You’ve gone too far with what you’re saying
The words have all poured out
Like you never had a doubt.
You slave and strive to get right what you say
But still it makes more sense, if you read it all the other way
That’s when your final bottle goes
With all your pride and all your pose
Glorious oblivion surrounds you
Like a halo light on everyone around you
You know you can’t get home
Without the help of someone who
Might think you’ve been misleading
And you realise
You’ve gone too far
You’ve gone too far in what you’re saying
The words have all poured out
Like you never had a doubt
The morning will be sinister and strange
Your character and clothes sense will have all been rearranged
The road signs that you see
Wont point from A to B
But now in the majestic blur and glare
Of a hopelessness so absolute and rare
It seems you can’t stop smiling so you
Find something to smile about
And realise
You’ve gone too far
You’ve gone too far with what you’re saying
The words have all poured out
Like you never had a doubt.
Gentleman Astronomer
A big brass telescope stands in the middle of the floor
The fiery orb of heaven goes down
The skylight opens like a magic door
The earth forgotten at your feet
Like a lover that you leave without fear
The stars are like a solemn orchestra
You feel the silent music of the spheres
Gentleman Astronomer
What can the constellated patterns mean?
You’re so concerned with first and last things
And not what happens in between
A maid with plates and trays knocks in the corridor
Then has to leave them outside; she’s annoyed
You’re appetite just goes at night as you go
Swinging through a universe of furnaces and void
Gentleman Astronomer
Map down the latest marvel that you’ve seen
You’re so concerned with first and last things
And not what happens in between
The starry crown of heaven’s queen
A lamp that heralds dusk and dawn
The nebulous majestic afterglow
Of worlds that died before the world was born
Beyond each orbit lies a hieroglyphic sign that’s
Etched somewhere against a darker night
Perhaps the earth moves – perhaps it all moves
Perhaps the candle that burns half as long burns twice as bright
Gentleman Astronomer
What can the constellated patterns mean?
You’re so concerned with first and last things
And not what happens in between
If I Said The Wrong Thing
When did you tell me that you loved me
I know you told me but I can’t remember when
It’s not the way time changes speed depending on how much you need
It’s just the way it twists and turns around the bend
If I said the wrong thing then
I might have said the right thing and
Be dead by now
If I did the wrong thing I know
If I’d done the right I’d
Be in bed by now
There’s a town called Elsewhere and I always want to go there
But every road I take just leads to where I’m going to be
I need someone from that place, to try to tell me face to face to
Stop looking at myself as though I’m not really me
If I said the wrong thing then
I might have said the right thing and
Be dead by now
If I did the wrong thing I know
If I’d done the right I’d
Be in bed by now
Everything’s In Disguise
Everything’s in disguise
Crouched down away behind the eyes
Seems a quiet morning
Policeman yawning but
Everything’s in disguise
I slid down the street past the blind
Pushing and shoving me out of my mind
With grime on my nerves
and dust on my words
Searching for something I just couldn’t find
Because everything’s in disguise
The eyes of the Christ-child are covered with butterflies
Making the world revolve
Just to see how fast it goes
Just to see how fast the fat fries
We talked and we talked all night
We argued and made up and nothing came out of it
I’d ask myself out for a fight
I’d cut off my nose if I thought I’d be rid of it
Because everything’s in disguise
The sultry screen siren flickers and sighs
sequins and lipstick
sequencing this quick clip
Everything’s in disguise
From the dark as the candlelight dies
With its visions its dreams and its
‘Til the noon of the day
Cuts the shadow away
Everything stays in disguise
To the deep where the gambler craves and cries
It’s a put on a put on you can’t be surprised
Keep the angels at bay
In a distorted way
They flutter to sidewalks and can’t seem to rise
We talked and we talked all night
Both misused the language and both got away with it
I asked somebody for a light
She gave me a rainbow I stood at the end of it
All the dreams that money can buy
Make the dumb village idiot witty and wise
The banker’s an artist
The priest keeps his cheap kicks
When everything’s in disguise
Everyone changes size
I look in the mirror it fractures my eyes
Trying so hard to speak
With my tongue in my cheek
Wonder which cup is poisoned and which is the prize
When I turn out the light what do I see
I can’t tell you but I know it isn’t me
Getting by with a lie
And with two getting high
When everything’s in disguise
So don’t try to look in my eyes
They were hidden away
At the start of the day
Everything’s in disguise
Wasted Life
This is a wasted life
The kind of people
You meet at parties
They get on your nerves
Then they step on your toes
Then they work their way up
They get in the car
You get out of the car and
You’re miles from home
And if Stevie comes down again
She will need to be entertained
You tape recorded all our conversations
And you play them back at parties
Picture a wasted life
The kind of people
Your friends are friends with
Picture a wasted life
They change their minds when
They change their perfume / hairstyle
And if Joey comes down instead
She will need to be put to bed
Because Joey can hit a high or low
The kind of people
Who love the hate mail
The kind of people
Your friends are friends with
The kind of people
You meet at parties
Escape Attempts
Down five flights a continuous sprawl
Fuelled by delirium and alcohol
From pillar to post and then straight to the wall
Still it’s better to have tried and failed than never tried at all
Escape Attempts
Escape I’m on a highwire a liveact a freefall a lock and a key
It’s a frightening world when you say that you want to be free
Escape Attempts
She plummets to earth from the glittering wire
Thought she could fly but couldn’t get any higher
He threw himself down for the oncoming train
Morning broke out and then it started to rain
Over two dead bodies in different places
With opposite clothes and the same look on their faces
Escape attempts
Escape I’m on a highwire a liveact a freefall a lock and a key
It’s a frightening world when you say that you want to be free
Escape Attempts
Here’s the truth it can’t be proved
Here’s the truth it hurt me too
Any heroin prostitute’s better than you
Escape Attempts
Little boy wonder turns into a tramp
Living on nothing and paying no stamp
The pain and the dirt the cold and the damp
Still the wilderness calls across the concentration camp
Escape Attempts
Escape.
Closing Down Sale
Everything you hold dear
Everything you hold so close my dear
It’s all got to go
It’s all got to go
It’s all got to go
In the closing down sale
Someone whispered in my ear
Telling me things I wanted to hear
But it all had to go
It all had to go
It all had to go
In the closing down sale
I slept in the dew of a garden like pearls on my face
And dreamed of the Eastern Seaboard
Where even the poodles wear chantilly lace.
I woke to the sound of a bell
Someone had died and was going to hell
and the hammer fell
and his price as well
in the buy and sell
of the closing down sale
The luxury liner got hit by a dredger and sunk
A home is a castle is a pile of junk
and it’s all got to go
it’s all got to go
it’s all got to go
In the closing down sale
Disco In Hell
On the dance-floor someone's getting ground out like broken glass
By a shoe that's made of leather on a foot that's made of plastic;
The mannequins on both sides now, are listening for heartbeats
They need someone to persecute - someone who will appreciate it.
There's a disco in Hell
and you know it so well
Where the tongue of fire meets the mouth of asbestos.
How glamorous. How desperate.
As one pretends to make a joke the other pretends to smile
Contempt behind the laughter lines they hate each other all the while
He'd like to wipe it off her face and turn it to a frown
She'd like to get some golden boy and melt him down, melt him down
Someone wheels round a velvet pillar, glowing with hysteria -
Before the first drink of the night they were quite delirious
After something that doesn't exist and on the verge of finding it
The flames lick round the frozen lips but only want to taste a bit.
There's a disco in Hell
and you know it so well
Where the tongue of fire meets the mouth of asbestos.
How glamorous. How desperate.
Jugular Vein
Sometimes
you can only see a mother
trying to stop her children
playing in the dirt
Sometimes
you can only see someone
laden with tesco bags
getting distraught
Sometimes
you can only see litter
and rainbows and diagrams
keeping them separate
Sometimes
you can only feel
the warmth of a kiss
or of some launderette
wire-mesh chip shops, displaced statues
sunlight on office blocks, the trail of a jet
Sometimes
you can only hear jokes
not what’s crushed up behind them
that doesn’t break through
Sometimes
you can only hear splintering
going on inside of you
Sometimes
you can only see broken men
asking for cigarettes
romantic too
Sometimes
you can only see fingernails
scratching their hopes
down the windowpane
But sometimes
right there in front of you
you can see the jugular vein
Sometimes
you can only see walls and dustbins
the mess of backyards
decomposition
the desperate humour of personal columns
attic rooms overlooking corrugated regions
Sometimes
you can only see a man
breaking down in tears
in the marketplace
razorblades behind yellow wallpaper
an endless queue and a hopeless case
Sometimes
you only look at the river
see flotsam and jetsam
invent correlations
people you know, on a high or a low
precise isolated explanations
Sometimes
you can only see swings
and roundabouts turning
int the pouring rain
But sometimes
right there in front of you
you see the jugular vein
Sometimes
you can only hear ice-cream vans
echoing rag and bone
disturbing your rhymes
Sometimes
you can only hear clocks
with different ticks
from different insides
Sometimes
you can only see people
get themselves in a mess
unsynchronised
Sometimes
you can only see a dog
looking down a grid
as though watching television
Sometimes
you can only see millions
forever out of step
in private indecision
Sometimes
you can only see paradise
dream of how good it is
how it will be
Sometimes
you can only see paradise
weird and wonderful
science fiction reverie
Sometimes
you can only see paradise
only see paradise
only see paradise
Sometimes
you can only see paradise
under a different name
But sometimes
right there in front of you
you can see the jugular vein
I Can’t Take You Anywhere But Down, Baby
Best keep it clean
best walk away
best take a peep
but call it a day
best smile and say
that’s not the way
it’s meant to be
Because I can’t take you anywhere but down, baby,
Fact I can’t take you anywhere at all
It’s overdue
It’s underplayed
It’s broken down
It’s been waylaid
It’s in the shade
It’s not been made so don’t try lying in it
Like the wheels of a juggernaut
Hissing out onto the stormy motorway
Best pull a frown
Best stub a smoke
and pay the clown
and stop the joke
best call the debt
and bounce a cheque
best throw the cards
and void the bet
Because I can’t take you anywhere but down, baby,
Fact I can’t take you anywhere at all.
Ill Wind-Up; Shiny Double Bind
There’s a silly little wind that blows down toytown’s corridors of power
Where children sanctimoniously smile but sometimes seem to cower
Whistling rebellion like a fetish past its sell-by date
To echo in a looking glass where eyes of hate meet eyes of hate
The love lines round your eyes are all extensions of the playground games
Where someone tries to snatch at you in fun but always ends up maimed
And all the previous victims’ names are carved into the entrance hall
And made to sound like heroes cause it stands to sense they must have stood
Before they crawled
Ill-wind up, shiny double bind
I love the ones I hate
I kiss the hand I cannot bite
I kiss the hand I cannot bite
The wind blows out the backdoor well, it wants to stay invincible
It tried to sound prophetic but just came across as irritable
Someone lets the cat out of the bag but it just crawls back in
To open up a can of worms that turn but never leave the tin
And someone says the secret is to make the prisoner love the prison
Then explains how you can tell erotica from cynicism
Look hard, remember every face and then repeat
That you’ve been lied to, cheated and betrayed
And by the very people who persuaded you that this would be the case!
It’s Still A Wonderful World
Everything’s falling apart
I see a new particle and ask – Who ordered that?
If your mother and your father are getting a divorce
It’s still better in the west than in the rest of the world
But you wouldn’t really think it when you’re looking at the scenery
All those systems analysts and all this broke machinery
Even the statues are looking to mutate
The big bang was a big mistake
It started to degenerate
I’m not the one that thought of it first
A bad dose of self-reference - I’ll try not to burst
Hey there’s no more room for a profit on doom
So I’ll say it’s a wonderful world
There’s a hardness and a clearness and a brightness to it all
From inside it’s security
From outside it’s severity
Every nano inch of you and every little pinch of you
Makes it a wonderful world
Everything’s falling apart
From Birmingham to Babylon
Bolton to Byzantium
Structural deformities from boardroom to boarding house
Economies ecologies and all the ideologies
Nothing makes sense anymore
Everything’ll soon be in bits
Buildings half-built when they run out of cash
Markets minds and media are starting to crash
But there’s no more room for a prophet of doom
Demand is saturated though there once was a boom
But it’s still a wonderful world
There’s something inside it all, the tiniest thing
It’s focussed and it’s certain and it shines and it sings
It’s the realness and the realness and the realness of it all,
So unquestionably definitely absolutely
Dave Ruaune
copyright
And Then You Realise
When the music changes that they’re playing
And you shift the final gear in what you’re saying
Everything slots into place
Then falls apart and into space
Perhaps most people have more underneath
Unless it’s just more reachable or doesn’t lie as deep
You know you can’t get home
Without the help of someone
Who might have their own agenda
As you realise
You’ve gone too far
You’ve gone too far with what you’re saying
The words have all poured out
Like you never had a doubt.
You slave and strive to get right what you say
But still it makes more sense, if you read it all the other way
That’s when your final bottle goes
With all your pride and all your pose
Glorious oblivion surrounds you
Like a halo light on everyone around you
You know you can’t get home
Without the help of someone who
Might think you’ve been misleading
And you realise
You’ve gone too far
You’ve gone too far in what you’re saying
The words have all poured out
Like you never had a doubt
The morning will be sinister and strange
Your character and clothes sense will have all been rearranged
The road signs that you see
Wont point from A to B
But now in the majestic blur and glare
Of a hopelessness so absolute and rare
It seems you can’t stop smiling so you
Find something to smile about
And realise
You’ve gone too far
You’ve gone too far with what you’re saying
The words have all poured out
Like you never had a doubt.
Gentleman Astronomer
A big brass telescope stands in the middle of the floor
The fiery orb of heaven goes down
The skylight opens like a magic door
The earth forgotten at your feet
Like a lover that you leave without fear
The stars are like a solemn orchestra
You feel the silent music of the spheres
Gentleman Astronomer
What can the constellated patterns mean?
You’re so concerned with first and last things
And not what happens in between
A maid with plates and trays knocks in the corridor
Then has to leave them outside; she’s annoyed
You’re appetite just goes at night as you go
Swinging through a universe of furnaces and void
Gentleman Astronomer
Map down the latest marvel that you’ve seen
You’re so concerned with first and last things
And not what happens in between
The starry crown of heaven’s queen
A lamp that heralds dusk and dawn
The nebulous majestic afterglow
Of worlds that died before the world was born
Beyond each orbit lies a hieroglyphic sign that’s
Etched somewhere against a darker night
Perhaps the earth moves – perhaps it all moves
Perhaps the candle that burns half as long burns twice as bright
Gentleman Astronomer
What can the constellated patterns mean?
You’re so concerned with first and last things
And not what happens in between
If I Said The Wrong Thing
When did you tell me that you loved me
I know you told me but I can’t remember when
It’s not the way time changes speed depending on how much you need
It’s just the way it twists and turns around the bend
If I said the wrong thing then
I might have said the right thing and
Be dead by now
If I did the wrong thing I know
If I’d done the right I’d
Be in bed by now
There’s a town called Elsewhere and I always want to go there
But every road I take just leads to where I’m going to be
I need someone from that place, to try to tell me face to face to
Stop looking at myself as though I’m not really me
If I said the wrong thing then
I might have said the right thing and
Be dead by now
If I did the wrong thing I know
If I’d done the right I’d
Be in bed by now
Everything’s In Disguise
Everything’s in disguise
Crouched down away behind the eyes
Seems a quiet morning
Policeman yawning but
Everything’s in disguise
I slid down the street past the blind
Pushing and shoving me out of my mind
With grime on my nerves
and dust on my words
Searching for something I just couldn’t find
Because everything’s in disguise
The eyes of the Christ-child are covered with butterflies
Making the world revolve
Just to see how fast it goes
Just to see how fast the fat fries
We talked and we talked all night
We argued and made up and nothing came out of it
I’d ask myself out for a fight
I’d cut off my nose if I thought I’d be rid of it
Because everything’s in disguise
The sultry screen siren flickers and sighs
sequins and lipstick
sequencing this quick clip
Everything’s in disguise
From the dark as the candlelight dies
With its visions its dreams and its
‘Til the noon of the day
Cuts the shadow away
Everything stays in disguise
To the deep where the gambler craves and cries
It’s a put on a put on you can’t be surprised
Keep the angels at bay
In a distorted way
They flutter to sidewalks and can’t seem to rise
We talked and we talked all night
Both misused the language and both got away with it
I asked somebody for a light
She gave me a rainbow I stood at the end of it
All the dreams that money can buy
Make the dumb village idiot witty and wise
The banker’s an artist
The priest keeps his cheap kicks
When everything’s in disguise
Everyone changes size
I look in the mirror it fractures my eyes
Trying so hard to speak
With my tongue in my cheek
Wonder which cup is poisoned and which is the prize
When I turn out the light what do I see
I can’t tell you but I know it isn’t me
Getting by with a lie
And with two getting high
When everything’s in disguise
So don’t try to look in my eyes
They were hidden away
At the start of the day
Everything’s in disguise
Wasted Life
This is a wasted life
The kind of people
You meet at parties
They get on your nerves
Then they step on your toes
Then they work their way up
They get in the car
You get out of the car and
You’re miles from home
And if Stevie comes down again
She will need to be entertained
You tape recorded all our conversations
And you play them back at parties
Picture a wasted life
The kind of people
Your friends are friends with
Picture a wasted life
They change their minds when
They change their perfume / hairstyle
And if Joey comes down instead
She will need to be put to bed
Because Joey can hit a high or low
The kind of people
Who love the hate mail
The kind of people
Your friends are friends with
The kind of people
You meet at parties
Escape Attempts
Down five flights a continuous sprawl
Fuelled by delirium and alcohol
From pillar to post and then straight to the wall
Still it’s better to have tried and failed than never tried at all
Escape Attempts
Escape I’m on a highwire a liveact a freefall a lock and a key
It’s a frightening world when you say that you want to be free
Escape Attempts
She plummets to earth from the glittering wire
Thought she could fly but couldn’t get any higher
He threw himself down for the oncoming train
Morning broke out and then it started to rain
Over two dead bodies in different places
With opposite clothes and the same look on their faces
Escape attempts
Escape I’m on a highwire a liveact a freefall a lock and a key
It’s a frightening world when you say that you want to be free
Escape Attempts
Here’s the truth it can’t be proved
Here’s the truth it hurt me too
Any heroin prostitute’s better than you
Escape Attempts
Little boy wonder turns into a tramp
Living on nothing and paying no stamp
The pain and the dirt the cold and the damp
Still the wilderness calls across the concentration camp
Escape Attempts
Escape.
Closing Down Sale
Everything you hold dear
Everything you hold so close my dear
It’s all got to go
It’s all got to go
It’s all got to go
In the closing down sale
Someone whispered in my ear
Telling me things I wanted to hear
But it all had to go
It all had to go
It all had to go
In the closing down sale
I slept in the dew of a garden like pearls on my face
And dreamed of the Eastern Seaboard
Where even the poodles wear chantilly lace.
I woke to the sound of a bell
Someone had died and was going to hell
and the hammer fell
and his price as well
in the buy and sell
of the closing down sale
The luxury liner got hit by a dredger and sunk
A home is a castle is a pile of junk
and it’s all got to go
it’s all got to go
it’s all got to go
In the closing down sale
Disco In Hell
On the dance-floor someone's getting ground out like broken glass
By a shoe that's made of leather on a foot that's made of plastic;
The mannequins on both sides now, are listening for heartbeats
They need someone to persecute - someone who will appreciate it.
There's a disco in Hell
and you know it so well
Where the tongue of fire meets the mouth of asbestos.
How glamorous. How desperate.
As one pretends to make a joke the other pretends to smile
Contempt behind the laughter lines they hate each other all the while
He'd like to wipe it off her face and turn it to a frown
She'd like to get some golden boy and melt him down, melt him down
Someone wheels round a velvet pillar, glowing with hysteria -
Before the first drink of the night they were quite delirious
After something that doesn't exist and on the verge of finding it
The flames lick round the frozen lips but only want to taste a bit.
There's a disco in Hell
and you know it so well
Where the tongue of fire meets the mouth of asbestos.
How glamorous. How desperate.
Jugular Vein
Sometimes
you can only see a mother
trying to stop her children
playing in the dirt
Sometimes
you can only see someone
laden with tesco bags
getting distraught
Sometimes
you can only see litter
and rainbows and diagrams
keeping them separate
Sometimes
you can only feel
the warmth of a kiss
or of some launderette
wire-mesh chip shops, displaced statues
sunlight on office blocks, the trail of a jet
Sometimes
you can only hear jokes
not what’s crushed up behind them
that doesn’t break through
Sometimes
you can only hear splintering
going on inside of you
Sometimes
you can only see broken men
asking for cigarettes
romantic too
Sometimes
you can only see fingernails
scratching their hopes
down the windowpane
But sometimes
right there in front of you
you can see the jugular vein
Sometimes
you can only see walls and dustbins
the mess of backyards
decomposition
the desperate humour of personal columns
attic rooms overlooking corrugated regions
Sometimes
you can only see a man
breaking down in tears
in the marketplace
razorblades behind yellow wallpaper
an endless queue and a hopeless case
Sometimes
you only look at the river
see flotsam and jetsam
invent correlations
people you know, on a high or a low
precise isolated explanations
Sometimes
you can only see swings
and roundabouts turning
int the pouring rain
But sometimes
right there in front of you
you see the jugular vein
Sometimes
you can only hear ice-cream vans
echoing rag and bone
disturbing your rhymes
Sometimes
you can only hear clocks
with different ticks
from different insides
Sometimes
you can only see people
get themselves in a mess
unsynchronised
Sometimes
you can only see a dog
looking down a grid
as though watching television
Sometimes
you can only see millions
forever out of step
in private indecision
Sometimes
you can only see paradise
dream of how good it is
how it will be
Sometimes
you can only see paradise
weird and wonderful
science fiction reverie
Sometimes
you can only see paradise
only see paradise
only see paradise
Sometimes
you can only see paradise
under a different name
But sometimes
right there in front of you
you can see the jugular vein
I Can’t Take You Anywhere But Down, Baby
Best keep it clean
best walk away
best take a peep
but call it a day
best smile and say
that’s not the way
it’s meant to be
Because I can’t take you anywhere but down, baby,
Fact I can’t take you anywhere at all
It’s overdue
It’s underplayed
It’s broken down
It’s been waylaid
It’s in the shade
It’s not been made so don’t try lying in it
Like the wheels of a juggernaut
Hissing out onto the stormy motorway
Best pull a frown
Best stub a smoke
and pay the clown
and stop the joke
best call the debt
and bounce a cheque
best throw the cards
and void the bet
Because I can’t take you anywhere but down, baby,
Fact I can’t take you anywhere at all.
Ill Wind-Up; Shiny Double Bind
There’s a silly little wind that blows down toytown’s corridors of power
Where children sanctimoniously smile but sometimes seem to cower
Whistling rebellion like a fetish past its sell-by date
To echo in a looking glass where eyes of hate meet eyes of hate
The love lines round your eyes are all extensions of the playground games
Where someone tries to snatch at you in fun but always ends up maimed
And all the previous victims’ names are carved into the entrance hall
And made to sound like heroes cause it stands to sense they must have stood
Before they crawled
Ill-wind up, shiny double bind
I love the ones I hate
I kiss the hand I cannot bite
I kiss the hand I cannot bite
The wind blows out the backdoor well, it wants to stay invincible
It tried to sound prophetic but just came across as irritable
Someone lets the cat out of the bag but it just crawls back in
To open up a can of worms that turn but never leave the tin
And someone says the secret is to make the prisoner love the prison
Then explains how you can tell erotica from cynicism
Look hard, remember every face and then repeat
That you’ve been lied to, cheated and betrayed
And by the very people who persuaded you that this would be the case!
It’s Still A Wonderful World
Everything’s falling apart
I see a new particle and ask – Who ordered that?
If your mother and your father are getting a divorce
It’s still better in the west than in the rest of the world
But you wouldn’t really think it when you’re looking at the scenery
All those systems analysts and all this broke machinery
Even the statues are looking to mutate
The big bang was a big mistake
It started to degenerate
I’m not the one that thought of it first
A bad dose of self-reference - I’ll try not to burst
Hey there’s no more room for a profit on doom
So I’ll say it’s a wonderful world
There’s a hardness and a clearness and a brightness to it all
From inside it’s security
From outside it’s severity
Every nano inch of you and every little pinch of you
Makes it a wonderful world
Everything’s falling apart
From Birmingham to Babylon
Bolton to Byzantium
Structural deformities from boardroom to boarding house
Economies ecologies and all the ideologies
Nothing makes sense anymore
Everything’ll soon be in bits
Buildings half-built when they run out of cash
Markets minds and media are starting to crash
But there’s no more room for a prophet of doom
Demand is saturated though there once was a boom
But it’s still a wonderful world
There’s something inside it all, the tiniest thing
It’s focussed and it’s certain and it shines and it sings
It’s the realness and the realness and the realness of it all,
So unquestionably definitely absolutely
Dave Ruaune
copyright
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