spiral staircase

[[ just another song about love and evolution ]]

how much I love you

first to last

written in my bones

woven in my skin

how much I love you

first to last

first there was flesh

then the flesh became word

and wrote itself

stepping forever

a step at a time

testing each step

up the spiral staircase

once we were fish

you feel it in your womb

swim for its life

stepping forever

a step at a time

testing each step

up the spiral staircase

first there was flesh

then the flash of the fish

leapt on the shore

stepping forever

a step at a time

testing each step

up the spiral staircase

how much I love you

first to last

written in my bones

woven in my skin

how much I love you

first to last

I give you my word

xmas 1: some other creature

Down in the stables,
animal talk
is an everyday thing,
and animals walk

still wet and finding
the length of their limbs
as the day softens
and the light dims,

opening night
to that star overhead,
and some other creature
in a straw bed.

I had an oracle

[[ It starts with a reductive yammer on life and then switches to a favorite theme of mine, Bede's sparrow. The first half is written in short chunks to be sung line by line, each almost independent of the lines before and after it. Then a shift to longer lines, slower rhythm, and all of it is the reported speech of the oracle. "She said..." ]]

I had an oracle 

tell it to me:

past, present, future --

all she could see.

There wasn't much,

all much the same.

We're all alike.

It's all a game.

I'll live and die,

and, in between,

be a regular guy.

Be a regular guy.

She said 

there was a sparrow

flew in one window

of a great hall,

a feast before a fire.

She said 

there was a sparrow

warm for a moment

in the fire light

and flew across the room.

She said 

there was a sparrow 

there for the moment,

that space of time,

then out another window and gone.

I had an oracle 

tell it to me:

past, present, future --

all she could see.

space is for robots

[[ it's... ok, it's a song sung by the robots to the humans as the robots leave Earth and humanity behind forever ]]

================================
[[space section]]

This is a song about space, space and robots.
First, let us sing about space.

space is a distance, a darkness, a nothing,
much more a time than a place

space is the years between here, here and somewhere,
here and your next human breath

space is forever and airless and soundless
how is that different from death?

================================
[[robots section]]

space is for robots
robots don't eat, don't shit,
don't drink, don't breathe,
robots
don't sleep... don't sleep... don't sleep... don't sleep... don't sleep... don't

|: don't die of boredom :|  x 10000000 (in an endless fugue)

robots don't ask "are we there? are we there yet?"
robots know: we're always here
robots don't care if they never see home again
robots have never known fear

robots are made for alone and forever
robots can wait for the light
robots can sleep until morning when morning
is when the next star is in sight

================================
[[ farewell to people section ]]

A song about robots and space, never people;
people cost more than they're worth.
And just when you think you've had
more than enough of them,
people give birth.

People insist on that breathing and drinking,
on setting thermometers just so
People can stay at home fighting and stinking
Robots have miles to go.

No air to breathe where we're going to, human.
Stay home and tend to your flock.
Stay home and think of us racing towards light speed
Stay home and unwind the clock.

================================ 

give up the ghost

[[ What can this mean? The narrator's nervous system is haunted. ]]

give up the ghost

= = = = =

little ghost

I know you're in there

the light is soft

the tem-per-a-ture is 

in-ex-pli-ca-bly low

this sound is mind

this sound is mind

this sound is mind

this sound is mind

rest, little ghost

= = = = =

another day 

the little ghost returns

returns with little friends

each little ghost 

is in my spine

swim-ming in 

my spi-nal-flu-id

swimming through 

each after each

the rings of bone 

my vertebrae

a circus trick -

hop through the hoop

each after each

a ring of bone 

a ring of bone 

a ring of bone 

a ring of bone 

a ring of bone 

as if a school 

of little fish

each little ghost 

swims up my spine

and waits beneath 

the inland sea

open mouthed

open, close

oh oh oh oh

= = = = =

I clasp my hands 

and peek inside

aha!

another ghost is here

where have you been?

A Christmas Carol

[[ I suppose this is easier to look at as a poem than as a song, but it's a Christmas carol of sorts. In summer a water strider prefigures the birth of Christ. Maybe this is the birth of bug-eating John the Baptist. Then, a half year after, when water turns to stone, Mary the bursting girl says his name. ]]

In liquid summer,

surface tension:

a strider

bending light.  

A silver circle 

under sky:

fish dart at

beating wings.

Round the sun,

water to stone

transfigures

in the change.

At the cleaving

of the year, 

song is sung and

bell is rung

for universe

on either side:

for animal,

for spirit cloud.

Set to burst,

a girl sobs,

then says a name

in rising steam.

in our lonely bones

in our lonely bones

we believe in ghosts

we cannot believe

we were nothing before

we are only now

we are nothing after

we cannot take comfort

in that being true

in being that true

a spark in the infinite

nothing

we cannot accept

we are only sparrows

briefly warming ourselves

and then flung out of doors

we cannot believe

what we know to be true

in our bones

we believe our only ghosts

in our lonely bones

we believe in ghosts