House on Borderlands Full Copy

7/29/2019 House on Borderlands Full Copy

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bb oo rrdd ee rrll aa nn dd ss

dark visions of adark age

charles ryan


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// // \\ \\ bb oo rr dd ee rr ll aa nn dd ss // // \\ \\dark visions of a dark age

Selected Poems and Lyrics

Charles Ryan


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BORDERLANDS: DARK VISIONS OF A DARK AGE -Copyright 2012 by Charles Ryan.All right reserved. Printed in the United Statesof America. No part of this book may be usedor reproduced in any manner whatso-ever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied incritical articles and reviews. For information, please write: Signpost Up Ahead Pub-lishing, P.O. Box 7268, Torrance, CA 90504.

Signpost Up Ahead books may be purchased for educational, business, or sales pro-motional use. For information, please write: Special Markets, Department, Sign-post Up Ahead Publishing, P.O. Box 7268, Torrance, CA 90504.

FIRST EDITION2013

Front and back cover design and page layout by Leonard Ross.

Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

Ryan, Charles.Borderlands: Dark Visions of a Dark Age / Charles Ryan. --- 1st ed.

p. cm.ISBN-10:ISBN-13:

I. Title.PS3569.M53787L66 20058II'.54--dc22

2005048799


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""WWee aarree tthhee eecchhoo

wwee aarree tthhee ssccrreeaamm""

Poem Bardo Thodol


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Table of Contents

POEMS

The House on the Borderland 1Commandments of Dog 3A Dry Sonata I 11

The Bardo Thodol 12A Dry Sonata II 16

Mahayana Ryan 17All Hallows Eve 19

Cancer Ward 24The Scattered Ashes 26

A Shelled Peascod 30The Second Kingdom 32

LYRICS

Greenwich Village 1969 39The Secret 40

Shadowland 42The Dark End of the Dawn 44

Blindness 49Childhood's End 51

Mirage 53Hell is Full of Angels 55

Three-Legged Dog 57Testament 59

Playground 61


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Poems


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Page 1

THE HOUSE ON THE BORDERLAND

We dragged the coal-charred childrenFrom the wreckageThe wind whipped through the twisted cageOf shrieking steelAnd splintered glassThree men produced the funeral MassThat began and ended

Without reposeThe waiter then recited prose(as we dragged the wilted tulipsfrom their soon lamented stand)

Traveling lightOn a summer nightTo the House on the Borderland

We pounded our sun-swelled snaresFrom the gravestoneTen bugles belched a solemn moanIn harmonyWith the morning crowdThe parson wore a sequined shroud

And touched the frozen facesWith a coal-scarred thumbThe waited praised the deaf and dumb(as we pounded the pine packageto the soon redeeming sand)



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Page 2

We raised the bleached-bare bannersFrom the wreckageThe wind raced in a willful rageFrom clouds that wept

With unseen eyesThe digger found his paradiseIn a harbored hymnOf crumpled gleeThe waiter polished up the fee(as we raised our heads in mourningaccompanied by the band)



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Page 3

COMMANDMENTS OF DOG

Ihalfway through the silent graveyard

Scarred with broken relics, stone and algaeCracked inscriptions, shackled motion, shornFrom light's fertility in fertile bondage, lostWithin the stillnessBeyond the harvest orchard, dyingBeyond the breathless voice, pursuing time

Within the stillnessWinter is spring and summer is fallAnd waste is sweetness on the desert air

Midnight riddles light with darknessGiving form to void and shape to fearLeaving word unspoken, silence unattended asDarkness finds its image on a shadow as

Darkness finds its body by the wallAnd still, as motion settles (as the shadow strays)Tush, tush, he said, it won't appear, won't appear

Life becomes death and death bridles lightAnd darkness haunts the minstrel as he plays

Midway through that fruitful autumn

The wharf is stale, the stems are broken, deadThe snake has lost its skin, the rock has shedIts moss within the season's muggy wombBeyond the barren harbor, waitingBeyond the humpbacked lamp, disarming fate

Within the stillnessTime withers age and age withers silence

And silence echoes rageUnattended


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Page 4

Twelve o'clockThe lamp explodesA single chime consoles eternity

And lobster pots are creaking by the bay, rottedAnd crumbling, caressing each other in decayAnd darkness drops again, climbs along theShuttered lanes and creeps among the arid brainsAmong the deadAnd swarms up to the darkness that is light

Twelve o'clock

The streets curl up into that twisted glareAnd fall asleep

Silence cranes its neck beyond the clouded moonRolls its savage eye into the hollows of the moment(The lamp explodes)And scattered, hurls to flight a dozen squawking gulls

Into the void Into the stillness, squealingA gutted rat dissolves into the shadowsOf the airless soilDying a tanner's death in a leper's autumnScrambles breathbare cross the alleyHesitatesAnd is swallowed by Diago's tavern, dead.

II

Three figures slouch on slouching stoolsBeneath a neon-tinted haze that huddles

Sluggishly into the reachesOf its entrapment

(Time to time the barroom droolsIts mucous fumes into the starless alley)


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Page 5

But smoke escapes through chimneysmen flee through doors

Three figures slouch Three gutted foolsIn Diago's doorless tavern, snared

Diago tips a flaskOf blood-red wine

Time cannot wear the shadows of the dying

A wishful glance that warms the deadened faceA vision of oneself approaching silenceDownward, down upon a knotted ropeBeneath the stillness, into voidWithin the stillness is the voidTime cannot wear the shadows of the garden

He pours a drinkInto McGinty's mug

The wharf is stale to-nightThe fallen tide escapes beneath a fueling bargeThat scrapes its lazy belly on the harbor bottomBeneath the seiner fleet, shrimper hulls to sculling shades

Lost, lunging, grounded as the ocean wades in silence(And draws the scant eternity to nest beneath its wing)

Howls unsounded like an insane king

bound in shadowsMcGinty tastes the wine and speaks

lThe Sleeping Seadog lingers in the stillnessTears its haunches on the silenceRips its carcass on a star


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Page 6

Slips malignant through the wind's nocturnal fingers

Into half-existent color Into stale fluorescence(Diago's neon goat)

Creating midnight's hollow throat within a whisper

And where is Atropos? Where could she be?

And where the darkness flickers from a muzzledchandelier

Diago slides his paunch along the bar rail

Where the darkness stirs, uniting void with substanceSlides a grin along the hazeStrides into aRiddleCaught

Diago keeps your spirits upMeasures gin with a two-jig cup

Between a cobweb and a candle, caughtBetween an eyelid of the final figure, caughtAmong the dying and the dead, illusion strays

McGinty slouches

Nudging neon with an empty shoulderBudging darkness from an empty shoulderHalf-dropped, droopingIn the pallor of a crouching moonMcGinty slouchesRaps his mug with Diago's snareWith dust that rattles rattlesIn the stranger's eye and

ClinkClink

Clink


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Page 7

Peels pack silenceDrinks fer 's chums withuhfistfulla grog

Layer by layer

He's a nick-nack paddy-wackin' good ol' dog!

And where is Atropos? Where could she be?

(Time cannot wear the shadows of the dying)

Time cannot wear the shadows of the dead.

III

Br-r-r-- just, just then, did you hear the thunder?

It can't be raining, not tonightDid you hear the thunder?Let's go out and see perhaps it's rain

but no, noNothing more than fallen angels, mumblingNothing more than echoes in a void(And yet, perhaps I do have a certain fear of thunder)There! Your eye turns up! Turns up again!

It could be you're afraid yourselfOf wind that whirls, whirls and lashes out at silenceWailing like a crippled leopard through the streets at duskOr else, a fearOf frozen rain inAugust? December slushOn autumn leaves? Hailstones?Gravestones? Storms that chill the soul

Ah, yes yesI know your brand of terror, friend. I know it wellYou carry deathDeath that rolls its weight against the weight of Time


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Page 8

Death in every gale that rises, begs for lifeAnd fails to die

then falling breathless to a fitful slumberDeath in silence when the clamor fades

And when it fades, silent wind shakes granite, walls, rivers

Of the city cower, minds cower without reason, tombs blaze

still nothingBlazing bones raise nothing

still nothing nothing still

Without reasonWithout hope of reasonWithout hope ofHopeNothing more than death

silent death silent grave

And autumn mourns the fallStill wind whispers, shakes illusion with a sneerAnd summer is dead and summer isWith a cold, deliberate sneer

(and you fear it all)

Still, you are no doubt a thoughtful fellahDo you have the time?

Sullen, yet reflective, I supposethe clock has struck it must be after twelve

Twelve? After twelve? Let's go out and...go out andIs there ever rain?After thunder, is there ever rain?

Often when the boats steer into bight

Drop their sheets, crop their bleating hornsAngle through the jetty, rumbling, rumblingThen it all comes backMumbling words and blood words and bloodAnd summer is dead is with the shark thatBreaches, guards the ocean as a lion lords


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Page 9

His turf, snarls in silence when the surf

Is falling with

Each rudder-beaten wakeAnd I have seenThe swelling sailsTuna trails thatDance into the striker's eyeDance beyond decaying remnantsFishgut spear, gutted calves, raveled gulletsDying as the noon wing whispers

Nothing

And I've heard the roarThe bilge pump chokingHeard the toll bell striking with each breathAnd I have seen the sea refuse to dieAnd summer is dead andThe flame that quivered once is dead and

Shadows crown the rabid wolf, devours light

And light is dead And hope is deadthrough words in blood and laughter, wailing

Each afternoon at four o'clockI watch the fueling barges as theyRaise their circling banners to the wind

Drift beyond the signal house, beyond the SkullAnd disappear like spirits through the mist

And, I've waited with a little patienceAnd I have waited with a little patience

lTwelve o'clock

The lamp has fled(A single chime consoles eternity)


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Page 10

HOWLHowl

howl

A single rhyme unsouls the dead.


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Page 11

A DRY SONATAI

DryThe hour is dryThis rude soilInconsummate airLip and lung

Dug and dungRiver's mouth andLeper's tongueAll locked in Time'sInsipid bentAll dry

A word through you

A voice through meThe damp hour of ourDamp youthSpent

Dat hooded man, he chasin' us

What once was knowledge

Becomes our visionWhat once was visionBecomes our hope .


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Page 12

THE BARDO THODOLI

Life is an echo and we are the screamLife is an echo and we are screamingBlind attraction to unheard repulsionScreamingAs the funeral door is roused and born deadDeaf and dumb and blindWe are the scream

Where did we go wrong?

Again, the dancing light evades lightClear light not clearly light but thatWhich draws the blinded owl to blinded flightStill light of sensesPlucked and gouged and snuffed

Still light of darkest night ofDarkest void ofDarkest

plightTrappedAnd seized into a monk's mad eye

And from the dancing spawns lucidity

(Seeded with a thorn when recognized)And through illusion springs lucidityOpen the mouth and open two eyesOpen the mouth and open two eyes

Life is an echo and we are the scream


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Page 13

IIWhere did we go wrong?

Again, in order that we may resignFace our ancient guise to face with Liberation

Reach beyond the sunken womb of Sun and Moon and FireHere and now, in order that we may relinquish lightWe must embellish darkness

When the mastiff pack has conjured up our trailsBehind us at our back Samsara wailsdigguh dum

Resign(Again, in order that we may resign)To heaven, as we mount the throbbing scalesAnd intertwine the jackal and the cow

digguh digguh dumForever homeward here and now

And we have eyesLeering eyes that see the worldAs God has never seenOur senses arePrecisely tuned and geared and stirred

Until our path is ruled absurdAnd then, my love, might you exchangeA torso for a limb?As the duck honks thriceThe moon throws riceAnd the bearded woman raises voice

'remember Him! remember Him!

Turning from that horror-kindled flameLife is an echo and we are screaming

As light respondsOur voices snag the windAnd we exist among the brutes


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Page 14

And we prevail among the muted brutesBurning as the axle burns

Just as all the fools before usWe shall eat the eye of Horace

digguh digguh deedle daidle dum

III

Rewoven in a hollow skullThe Raven picked our bones, a fortnight deadIllusion plants its hoof into the sand

Dismembered as it lashed a squallThe shoreline wails its blissful callShall make the pocky corses crawl

And we prevail among the brutesAnd we the scream

Heap of formHeap of fleshHeap of impurities

Turning from the cradle to the tomb

Open the mouth and open two eyesOpen the mouth and open two eyes

Life is an echo and we are the womb

And this is so

(Through wind and hailand dry grass, screaming)

And this is rightly so


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A DRY SONATAII

The mantis asks for nothingHidden word or psychic voiceSalvation, revelationDeliverance from the karmic tiesA place to chantA place to defecateNothing

With antennae erectInfant arms that grope above her lone torsoAged and stoopedShe shuffles into an unassuming dusk

Busy old nightHalf-steps echo on the silent plain


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Page 16

MAYAYANA RYAN

Droolin' mustard down 'is chin(The victim of a merciless stroke )In nomine patris et fiddle-ay-doo---The Bishop, repairing his eyebrows with glueFixes 'is collar, nixes 'is girthOur primary fear is the fear of our worth

(Inspectin' Hildy's after-birth)

O! Tell 'em (as they titter)That 'idly 'ad 'er litterThat the altruistic vultureAte the hedonistic doeAnd tell 'em: O ladle-ai, ladle-ai-O!

Reclinin' in 'le grand boudoir'

She gleams and gleams like a chandelierWhatever is proper shall thrive, says the Queen(But curled in her psyche are matters, obscene!)She fastens 'er eyelashes, tugs at 'er dressShould I be forthright or leave her to guess

(Clearing' 'er gullet with, ah, such finesse!)

O! Tell 'em (as yer hackin')

That it ain't the Swan that's quackin'That the Knight 'as shed 'is armorAnd's been eyein' yer trousseauAnd tell 'em: O ladle-ai, ladle-ai-O!

Undaunted as he claims, a certainFear of maggots 'tween the toes The King recapitulates matters of ageIf life were unblemished and feces perfumed Then Ryan would be quite impeccably groomed


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With a rose in 'is collar, a flame in 'is eye

He chants, Nam myoho renge kyo!(With his cobra and lotus appearin' just so)

In nomine patris et fiddle-ay-dough

He tells 'em: O ladle-ai, ladle-ai-O!


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ALL HALLOWS EVE

' The silence lasted; nothing happened.in that pause, expectancy faded.Presently then, the Shape went outAnd we were drawn, steadilyEverlastinglyInward and downThrough the bottomless circlesof the Void .'

Charles Williams

Here there is no motion, no hopeThere are neither acts of despairNor Acts that result in faith of SeparationThere is no knowledge more than knowledge knownAlready known, already buried, construed

Between broken words and whispersHere and there in the outskirts of the CityThere is only gossip, useless mute gossip

And the backwards Word

Wait!This is not the

Way to say it; NotThe precise way inWhich I'd dare to say it!

Perhaps I'd merely say thatThese are mere streets of a mere city

That turn and turn merely for the sake of turningThat guide this stale wind, stale word, down and downRebounding down the Hill of Voices


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Page 19

Through the streets that mutterThe streets that cross themselvesThriceWith garlic and a candle

And watch this shadow click its cloven heels

I've had enough, dear one, had enough

And what if this should be a dream?If the twilight and the grey moonThe gutted bar, the lonely rectoryThose distant voices that I can't decipher

What if this is all a frail dream?Then, perhaps I'll awake by middayShaken, beaded in a cold sweatBeyond memory, without relief(Drooling on your favorite linen)

He looks so gaunt and useless

don't you think?

No! I must design a propitious scene!A separate City, alive with city soundsJackhammers, noon whistles and whining houndsAnd how it would beTo smell cigarette smoke and factory fumes

The faint, musty odorEscaping from under a landlord's sleeves

And urine breaths of powder rooms

Just then, perhaps I'll

Stroll down Interlaakan StreetDown into the Poets' Square

At lunch-time, when the deli is swarmedAnd then they'll shout their old ballyhoo:

He looks so cultured and so debonair!I'll cock up my head (as the actors do)


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Page 20

And edge back into the turning streetRound and down to the Bridgewater Zoo

The porcupined cheetah, the ring-tailed amoeba

Will join the blind zebra and dumb cockatooThat paralysed force will take flight on the horseAnd tonight we'll all danceTo the top of the Hill, the top of the Hill

(Dance hand in clawDance lung in gill)

And how would it be .

When the twilight hour of this grey seasonJoins that still still moment of momentous fireAnd when all that is already knownIs then unknown and then un-known, ensnared

In faded words and fading blood .

Then I'll prepare a masterful verseWith words in tongue and blood of sorceryI'll pound this heel upon the pavement

One and Two and Three

And then, my love, then you'll appear

With a jigger of brandy, a pinch of snuffAnd a whisper that tickles my innermost ear:

O, Henri, I love you stillFor better or for worse;

I shall never again leave youIf our days are resourcefulIf the times are roughI'll never leave you, never again


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The groundhog cocked his severed headand said, Enough!

lHere is where the shadows areWhere those faceless shadows areHere, upon this crude and ancient cragThe indolent potter's wheelHas ceased to turnNo motion, none is left

Among these bleeding thornsHere, within this whisper, that sighNo time or sense or meaning left

Look! Is that your head amidst the smoke?Your lips among disconsolate boneThe girl in the orchard

Is covered with mold

And I, who wear neither youth nor a cloak

Have lost all sensation(and have a fierce cold)

Shall I return as a psychic

Or as a baboon?Perhaps as a leper who

Howls at the moonAnd the fools will applaudAnd the dwarfWill wear her eyelids rolled

These words have lost all senseThis voice is growing old

And here, among these tired streetsWithin these uninspired streets


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We've heard and heardThat savage Word before(The ancient chant that blooms

Within a thoughtless skull)At some moment, heard beforeBetween the dream of passing

And the dream that thrivesOn the moment's past

The hooded saint then took his leave

And the scream inside the silenceShakes the hollows of the eve

The City drawsIts final dumb breathAnd waits surrender


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CANCER WARD

Let them write above'Here lies no one 'Then afterwardLet the World take its course

Peer Gynt

Nothing left

Back is stooped, numbedBy knowledge

Limbs that onceRebuffed the leopardFail to thwartThe aged centipedeOrgans that digested

Pumped, excreted, throbbedHold this arid plain inShriveled atrophy

Dust that once was motionDust that once was timeNothing left

The smiling wolvesHave robbed my jawRobbed that toothlessRuthless jaw

O spare me

Sight of dry bonesSmell of proud fleshTaste ofBull dung


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The starving winds havePluckedThis wretched eye

I, who once was tall as youI, who once had eyes like youCreep in foul fear ofFoul fear

Dust to dustFoulness to foulness

O spare me spareMe thedung, dust, bone and entrails

Yelping


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THE SCATTERED ASHESI

El Dia de los Muertos

Know, my name is lostMy face is gone, the night has shut me outUpon the farther shore, near better streamsThe faithful gather where the fire redeemsYet here, my dreams are daggers as I drift about

I've seen my image stagger from the jaws of fearThen watched it vanish down confusion's snoutStill, the wind reveals no signs to questionThe thunder wears no wounds to doubtMy eyes are beggar's eyes

Three days I've stood where waters breakI've watched this journey sink in time, the climb these tides delay

The light that leads the way as it restoresI've risen hand by hand upon the shadow of a WordThen spilled my faith unheard between two shoresDeparted on a groundless pathToo numb to know the horror of its wakeThree days I've searched this channel, searched and prayedI've seen my heart laid open, edging bared into the darkThen dared to mark the course this soul should take

But now, my head is filled with poisonThey have tied me to a stake

And through these quarters, worn by thirst and droughtThrough breach and blast, the night that fouls the

I've left my conscience torn and scarred, my hope stretched inside outAnd heard the fatal bell that cries each promise I've undoneThe silence that this howl denies, the seasons I've outrunThe bleeding Captain, fallen blind, perceives the scene


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And weaves a tale of distant lands, of battles lost and wonYet, through this vacant plea, so frail and hardened

I've crossed the final strait where judgment stands

And watched my courage flee through empty handsMy spirit neither damned nor pardoned

Tomorrow, when this tale is toldI'll drift between two lives, so rudely ledAs my last response is left for dead, my final shred of wonderBetween the dream of passingAnd the dream that passes into dread

I'll have no dreams to fill this head, no memories to plunderAfter fools destroy what fools defendAfter each beginning haunts the promised endTomorrow, when this pace shall fallWhen friend is foe and foe is friendI'll seek the grace that made me crawl, the tide that drags me underAnd though this maze of screams and echoes, through it allI'll find a separate silence to attend, another skin the shed

And go to bed at noon, in spite of thunder

Knock. knock. knock.

IILachesis

'A cold coming we had of itThe beacon crept unseen above the ragged coast,

Spread its image upon the senseless twilight, and was goneDriven back beyond the flicker of another passage, against a blind sea

We hauled our wind to weather the point

At the first terror of the silence unredeemed,

scudding away on a larboard tack

We fled between the fury of the dream fulfilledAnd the dull retreat of the last sensation


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Page 27

The voices of the past we fought, the thoughtless skull of restorationWhispers of a tide, blown cruel and black

A dark voyage we made of it

Darker than the womb was darkOn such a night that deepens as it robs each breathWe, the passing, who dash our mark upon this drifting wreckage

Led all this way to shuffle at the edge of doomLed all this way for birth and deathWe prayed for knowledgeAnd the darkness left our eyes too blind to questionWe sought the silence

And the thunder wove its voice iinto our doubt'

lI stumbled when I sawAfter the pain unravels what the wounds reveal

After this path, reduced to darkness, seeks the Word unheard beforeI trembled when I faced this shore, the face behind this stareAfter my heart has traced the moment when the moments cease

the peace that wretches feelThe taste of hope on unsubstantial airAgain, I trembled as the night was lost to silence

the dark in its disguiseI searched to find the faith these dreams refuse

After a life undone by whispers from a shifting mind, as many dreamsas I hand dreams to loseAs many oaths as I had lies

Against these seas, I crossed between the echoes of a fitful sightthe fear these winds expose

Upon this plea, I shuddered when each year has tossed its courseA most poor man, made tame by fortune's blows

After all the remnants of an empty nighta life too vague to trace its source

too faint to stir the path of its demiseCondemned to pace unknown between the shadow and the light


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Page 28

I had no way and therefore had no eyes

And through this night of skull and spirit, through this stareBetween the heart that sheds its last resistance

And the mind that wriggles from the jaws of fateThrough all the fragments of an end too blinded to beginthe will to rise, the senseless calculating

The prayer that spreads its faith too thinthe cries that murder what the eyes create

Through words in blood and darkness, waitingWaiting as the world will wait


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A SHELLED PEASCOD

For every vibration

there is an opposite vibration

For every corpse there is a twisted roseFor each fond breeze, a reckless squallDraws the blind sailor homewardAh, homeward to his tackle, net and nooseThe leopard in the garden laughs, licks his wounds

We sow our shade

Couched between dry birthAnd arid resurrectionOur fear is not of ragged bonesOf purging winds that lureThe night hawk from its lairWinds that spread their ancient wings and

Cackle smilinglyThe scarecrow dropped his liver, bowels and brainOurs is fear in an eyeful of rust

And this is soIce to freeze the carcass

And this is rightly soIce to freeze the spine

Should we reconsiderSpirit dust?Skulls that glow?The fortune teller and her leaves?Mantras, chakras, karma, masters of zenGotama has thrown in his sanctified towel

We sow our shade

Again, our only hopeIs in our hopelessnessIn the darkest fleeting moment, undiscerned


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In that pursuit which is our apathyIn that knowledge which is lunacyBeyond these cold, expectant eyesBeyond approach

We must prepare our feetTo crush the brambles and the briar

Into a still silent echoInto the voidBeyond the psychic and the fool


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THE SECOND KINGDOMI

The dogs are silencedThe fit has shook its courseThe howl is yelped

Beneath the burden of a crushing stoneWe dragged the carcass bleeding bleedingFrom the wreckage

We who knew nothing more than nothing knownWe who heard the Word and chose our ownProud heart to proud boneBurningFrom the wreckage

Left to our own devicesTen years left to our own design

To mount each crisis(We who were so quick, so quick to riseTo a life of rank affairs and blank occasions)It seems a wonder that we made this shoreThe lot of us, eachLashed to the same crude squallEven in our dreams we were dividedTen years

At our knees without the sense to crawl

lThe air went dead. The valve slackened.I saw it coming at breakfast, from out on the verandaThat sound, that awful sound from his chest

The doctor told me what I should do, butI couldn't think. Honestly. I just couldn't think.Three tanks a week at the end. He'd fill his cupSo quickly. Now look, he told meGive Father Nino the list. It's all here, signed.


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I left the dates blank. Everything's in order, soYou have nothing to worry about

I rode with him in the ambulance. Conrad and Sons.

You know, the ones with the waterfall.He was such a meticulous man.I worry about you, Nella, he said, You need toDo something with your mind. Something to letGo of all this. Something to let goOf me. The garden needs work. Thank GodYou have your program

O, little fish, don't cry, don't cryO, little fish, don't cry, don't cry

IIThe silence bore usThe silence ravaged us

Beginning with our journey's endAt the crossroads of rose and brambleThe juncture of wisdom and faith

On that solemn ledge between birth and death-of-selfWhere promise meets redemption

And the echo meets the voiceThe voice that bore us

The voice that, on a whisper, stilled the scream

Stilled our beating mindsFrom wind and flame and whirlpool

On a dark, dark nightAt the gate dividing sense and spiritIn the womb of joy, the belly of silence


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We, the living, who wear the cloak of lives confessedWe, the dreaming, who strive to put our dreams to restScramble breathbare up this faceless cliff

Our knowledge spent, our houses laid to ruinBurned by thirst and fire

Beginning with our journey's end

lThe promise bore usThe waiting ravaged us

Upon the timbre of the wheelThe weary craftsman tunes his fateUndaunted as the winds concealThe distant thunder of the gate

Throughout the night, he weeps and singsBeyond the ancient call to fleeUntil the darker darkness bringsThe hollow throat of memory

And through that silence turns the stairAnd from that darkness paths descend

The weary craftsman prays for prayerBeginning with his journey's end

IIIThe voice went dead. Our faith slackened.

Not for the duration of this dark nightBut for one moment, one chord in time

The point between surrender and denialWhere the rhapsody loses pitch, falls


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Out of tuneDescends into the dissonant strain of a life undoneSpreading words in blood, rumors of mortalityThe rattle rattle of bone against bone

One chord in time thatTurns saint into sinnerTurns father against son and brother into exileTurns us all to fools and madmenFor one chord in timeOne moment, unattended

On a dark, dark night

Night of disguisesAt the point where moving forward is fruitlessAnd turning back, unthinkableAt the last shudder of our last resortWe, the dying, who rally in the face of fearThen watch our nerve sink downward, down in frightAs Truth shall fall on ears that hearWe see our courage stiffen, cold and white

Without the seed of faith to trust this night

Battered by darkness, knee deep in a fading dreamAt the last measure of our lost hopeThe last movement, the final stretch of ropeOur hunger starved, our vision robbed of sightAt the end of our beginning

Dwells the Light

lThe dogs are silencedThe fit has shook its course

The howl is yelped


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Though the seas threaten, they are mercifulThe tides that swell, the winds that crack their cheeksThe night that pounds the bark ashore, the Word that speaks

Within a roar, within a stalking whisper, seeksThe face that loses face to seek, the wounded voiceOf decades lost, the choice that Birth and Death exhaustOur laughter as it laughed beforeThe child that waits behind the door

Though the fire consumes us, the flames restoreAt the first turning of the first day

Under the limbs of thirst and reclamation

We, the waking, who climb together toward the sacred banksOur path laid bare, our prayer a prayer of thanks

To the breath that moved the current, the hand that drove the oarThe Grace that brought us to this shore

Our lives renewed as we ascendBeginning with our journey's end


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Lyrics


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GREENWICH VILLAGE, 1969

The neon 'Bar and Grill' can wink so cautiouslyLike a hooker slinking toward her man in blueHis name is incidental like the color of his eyesAs darkness falls, they disappear from view

The subway serenades the tired boulevardGraffiti stammers out its vengeful rhymeCold faces cling to storefronts, looking old and battle scarred

In Greenwich Village, 1969

The widow's rosary consoles eternityNovenas for her man who's lost to warShe shakes her soul to Heaven at the cost of all she knowsThen blows one final kiss and shuts the door

The alleys are an anchor for the troubadours

Those reckless harmonies and ragged linesThe silence is a Pharisee, still looking for a signIn Greenwich Village, 1969

The poet in the temple howls his hollow pleaThe rebel drops his hammer by the tracksAnd the king retreats in silence to his whiskey-tainted graveAs the children carve a legend named Saint Jack

And through it all, in shuttered roomsThe blind console the blindIn Greenwich Village, 1969


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THE SECRET

Night falls hard in memories, the living stand their groundSweet Arthur's mask is confidence, his terror never makes a soundA psyche cool. well organized, emotions neatly filedThe faintest sound of thunder makes him tremble like a child

Sometimes his engines hum and purr, sometimes his plates will shiftSo flexible, his mother nods, That boy's got such a giftHis destiny pinned to his shirt, his sanity in code

By day his shadow follows him, at night his dreams explode

And he's choking on his secretAnd his secret burns a holeIt can burn through all his facesIt can burn right through his soulHush the thought that they might guess itHush the dream from which he drank

Hush the courage to confess itLet another slate go blank

Be careful, said the mirror, thoughts are killers once they flee.If you want to keep your secret, keep it under lock and key

A million worlds converging, not a single will surviveSweet Arthur has a secret and it's eating him alive

Watch him catalog his conscience, all in predetermined stacksWatch him resurrect the secret, watch him cover all its tracksWatch the mirror steal his courage if the secret won't behaveOne half of him its master, one half of him its slave

And he's pinned beneath his secretAnd his secret steals him blind

It will steal away his sensesIt will steal away his mind


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Stop the thought that they might find himStop the dream from which he drankStop the ghost who walks behind himLet another slate go blank

The jumper drew an audience, like zombies in a spellThey couldn't say what caused the fall, how many floors he fellA priest took off his overcoat and asked the man his nameHe heard his last confession as the paramedics came

Move closer, begged the victim, I have something more to say...

His voice trailed off in silence, his last breath was sucked awayThe paramedics covered up the life they couldn't saveOne man who had a secret took his secret to the grave

And he's buried with his secretAnd his secret burns a holeIt will burn through all his faces

It will burn right through his soulKill the thought that they might find himKill the dream from which he drankKill the ghost who walks behind himLet the final slate go blank


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SHADOWLAND

The world would just as soon forgetWe watched the wreckage drift ashore

Ten years reduced to one regretThe unclaimed baggage of a warDon't ask us how our names were lostA nation did its sleight-of-handWe never saw the line we crossed

That took us into Shadowland

An open wound that never healsA bone that never seems to setA mind that thinks but never feelsThe face inside we've never metDon't sleep too much, your dreams explodeEach passing glimpse will burn its brand

Reality's the narrow roadSink deeper into Shadowland

And they tell us time and time againThat they only want a few good menThen they lead us to the lion's denMake a speech and wash their handsAnd we tremble through the first attack

And we see our last resistance crackAnd the few good men that make it backBuild their future on the sandIn Shadowland

Behind a nation's blind saluteBehind My country 'tis of theeBehind the pain that won't compute

The powder keg of memory

A father's call to take a standThe last breath of the boy next door


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Your life is death in ShadowlandThe legacy of war

And they tell us time and time again

That they only want a few good menThen they lead us to the lion's denMake a speech and wash their handsAnd our leader strikes a fistic poseAs we weep as each statistic growsAnd son will reap what father sowsAs we march through each commandFrom the past we can't withstand

It's the life we never plannedIn Shadowland

This is the original version of the lyric Shadowland, written in the spring of 1987. A few months later, Graham Nash and Joe Vitale edited my words and addedmusic, creating a song that the following year was included on the long-awaitedreunion album American Dream (which was Crosby, Stills, and Nash's first LPwith Neil Young since their landmark album Dj vu was released in1970).American Dream sold more than a million units and was certified Platinumin 1989.


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Page 43

THE DARK END OF THE DAWN

I ask the station masterFor a one-way ticket homeTook getting here to make it clearHow far a soul can roam

He says, You want RedemptionBut that train's not on this trackI buy a ticket anyway

And sit way in the back

When I wake up, I think I'm thereI see the night has goneBut in my mind all that I findIs the dark end of the dawn

On the platform, there's an artist

With an easel on his kneesIt could be MichelangeloOr Mephistopheles

He says he's here to save meHe's a man of great renownHey, it don't make no difference

In my mind I gun him down

It's more or less a game of chessAnd here I am, the pawn

This is the street where killers meetIn the dark end of the dawn

There's a bright light in the men's roomThere's a nun in the next stall

With a message that salvationIs a feast for one and all


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She says, Son, you're a sinnerThen she cuts my angels looseGod wants to hear IsaiahBut I'm quoting Dr. Seuss

I say, Hey, ma'am, green eggs and hamWould be fine with Luke or JohnLooks like there'll be no feast for meIn the dark end of the dawn

Up the street, I find a doctorWho looks like Mr. Hyde

He's a part-time chiropractorAnd a swami on the side

The doctor tells me, Lie right downAnd I'll adjust your spineThen the swami says, Don't worry, sonIn your next life you'll be fine

Every tale I tell's a map through HellThat some lunatic has drawn

Then I see the lunatic is meIn the dark end of the dawn

I want someone to save meMy faith is wearing thin

I make my way down into townFor a mug of medicine

I tell the faceless barmaidEvery cell inside me hurtsA man walks up, hands me his cardIt says his name is Kurtz

I'm such a dope, I think there's hopeTill I see the man's a conWords can deceive if you believeIn the dark end of the dawn


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A voice leads me to the crossroadsOf deliverance and despairI can hear the angels singingAt that moment, I don't care

It's too late for signs and wondersIt's too late to shed a tearI just want to find somebodyWho can get me out of here

Now I understand the Devil's planThe conclusion is foregone

If he has his way, I'm here to stayIn the dark end of the dawn

In the churchyard is a ladyShe wears a pauper's clothesAs I say, It's nice to meet youAt her feet I lay a rose

She stands there like a statueAs the rose blooms from a budWhile I'm looking up into her eyesShe's crying tears of blood

In a helpless heap, I fall asleepRight on that churchyard lawn

Then in my dream, I hear Satan screamFrom the dark end of the dawn

There's a pathway to a carnivalI'm ready for a rideWith a carousel of refugeesAll from the darker side

There's a preacher on an ostrichNear the pig and crocodileThere's a hangman riding on a lambLooks like Kafka with a smile


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As I make three wishes all my fishesSwim upstream to spawnThey've left for dead my loaves of breadIn the dark end of the dawn

I'm still praying for a miracleAs my desperate play beginsJehovah's the directorAll the actors are my sins

A performance of a lifetime

Still I plead for it to stopI stand for my ovationAs the curtain finally drops

Inside my mind my thoughts unwindLike in Flowers For AlgernonWith no way to find what's left behindIn the dark end of the dawn

Then a girl comes up to greet meLike it was forever planned

Her eyes stretch to eternityA rose is in her hand

She tells me she's a messenger

That's why our paths have crossedShe says for every soul that's savedA thousand still are lost

She tells me that my choice is clearTo go back or else move onShe says a lady sent her here

From the dark end of the dawn

Some guests come down to join usAt the table for a feastWhen St. Peter toasts SalvationI'm impressed, to say the least


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I can hear the angels singingAs our voices intertwineThen I scribble my John HancockRight there on the dotted line

My doubts all disappear so fastOnce the final draft is drawnThen the girl hands me a lifetime passTo the dark end of the dawn

The moment I awaken

There's a message in my heartThe train that I had takenWas the right train from the start

Now I recognize each soul who's lostOn these dark and desolate streetsI've walked in their same footsteps

All the liars, fools and cheats

They've heard about RedemptionBut their pain goes on and on

It's true that we're all traveling throughThe dark end of the dawn


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BLINDNESS

Leader paints a pretty pictureWash his hands of all the grimeBrushstrokes on a field of darknessLet the medal fit the crimeRide so tall behind the saddleMissile fall and Wall Street climbLegislate the smell of battle

Feed us all a nursery rhyme

The truth always hurts, but it sets us freeThe lame shall talk and the deaf shall see

BlindnessThey making sure that we be numbBlindnessWhat bad for many good for someBlindnessWe marching to a deadly drumBlindnessIt blow us all to kingdom come

Leader draw his own conclusionFreedom for a simple feeSea of red on thirsty canvasPaint-by-number destinySpeech revive what bomb demolishT. V. Q. from A to Z

Politics of spit and polishDollar teach us all to see

The brain is gone, but the head's still aliveThe meek will rule and the dead will thrive


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BlindnessThey making sure that we be numbBlindness

What bad for many good for some

BlindnessWe marching to a deadly drumBlindnessIt blow us all to kingdom come


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CHILDHOOD'S END

The pain flashed like a headlineThrown upon the magic screenA thousand days, a single flameOne instant in between

A camera's prayer of silenceFrozen church to grassy knollOne single act of violence

Robbed a country of its soul

We tuned in as the colors droppedThe day when all the laughter stopped

They change the guard

The decades bendA dream dies hard at childhood's endThe children weepOld men pretendThe tide runs deep at childhood's end

The future made its promise

But our youth was double-crossedA war of fear, a failed FrontierOne dream forever lost

A destiny abandonedAnd an innocence betrayedA piece of every one of us

Died in that motorcade

A thousand days, ten thousand nightsWe all were in the killer's sights


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They change the guardThe decades bendA dream dies hard at childhood's endThe children weep

Old men pretendThe tide runs deep at childhood's end

We search to find a symbolThat the ages can't diluteA lifeless oath, a ruined dressOne tiny son's salute

Forgetful minds rememberThough the pictures peel and crackThe day our childhood went awayAnd never quite came back

A nation's fate in one blind shotIt closed the gates of Camelot

They change the guardThe decades bendA dream dies hard at childhood's endOur children weepOld men pretendThe tide runs deep at childhood's end


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MIRAGE

Let my mind caress one momentTears hold on with all their mightI'm the shadow on your curtain

Disappearing through the nightLet me trust the heart of darknessAngels in a den of thievesLet me steal an explanation

Neither one of us believes

It's a riddle, it's realityIt's wearing camouflageHow certain is the tide of loveHow deep is the mirageA postcard from the undertowA scribbled 'bon voyage'

The shadow on the curtain knowsWhen love is a mirage

A delusion to decipherAn emotion to disownDraw our courage from confusionDraw our water from a stoneIt's a fly-by-night oasis

Desperation with a twistYou're the feeling never offeredI'm the feeling never missed

It's a riddle, it's realityIt's wearing camouflageHow certain is the tide of loveHow deep is the mirage

A postcard from the undertowA scribbled 'bon voyage'The shadow on the curtain knows

When love is a mirage


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Like a soul's first taste of freedomIn a wilderness of snaresTo create a dream is HeavenHell is peeling back the layers

It's a haunted panoramaDaybreak hanging by a threadYou're the question left unanswered

I'm the answer left unsaid

It's a riddle, it's reality

It's wearing camouflageHow certain is the tide of loveHow deep is the mirageA postcard from the undertowA scribbled 'bon voyage'The shadow on the curtain knowsWhen love is a mirage


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HELL IS FULL OF ANGELS

We're driving from the courthouse, Virgil's sitting by my sideMy pickup dies a slow death down where 1st and Hill collideWe were there for jury duty till the judge said we could goNow Fate has dropped us in the seventh circle of Skid Row

We search for a mechanic, but there isn't one in sightRasputin's on the corner asking Virgil for a light

Just then somebody's daughter says, Hey you guys want a date?Our path starts spiraling downward on a road that had been straight

There's a voice that echoes through my headI can hear it clear as dayI recall how Mama always used to sayThat Hell is full of angels

Who got lost along the way

Then we run into an Army vet-- I'm not dead yet!, he screamsHe drags a trunk behind him, forty years of broken dreamsHe says his name is William, had a job down by the docksHe calls his home his castle, but his castle is a box

There's a couple in the shadows, Whiskey Joe and Princess PamThe lady says to Virgil, Sir, you don't know who I amI'm from a line of royalty--Whiskey Joe, he ain't my typeThen she takes a toke of torment, she's a prisoner of the pipe

There's a voice that echoes through my head

I can hear it clear as dayI recall how Mama always used to sayThat Hell is full of angelsWho got lost along the way


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A man slumps in the gutter who they call the silent oneHe doesn't know his name, but he can make an engine runHe listens to our story, then he pleads in Virgil's earMister, if I fix your engine, can you get me out of here?

So many on this street are lost and hurting to the coreFor every soul we meet, there seems to be a hundred moreSo many spirits breaking on this aching avenueIf our lives had made a different turn, it could be me or you

There's a voice that echoes through my headI can hear it clear as day

I recall how Mama always used to sayThat Hell is full of angelsWho got lost along the way


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THREE-LEGGED DOG

It's a legend with no starting placeNo point where it beganJust a riddle from an old man reminiscingHe says the wind passed it alongHis name's Disciple DanIt's the story of a dog with one leg missing

He says to me, There comes a timeWhen everybody begsThey see the pie and want a bigger portionOn any street the day you meetA dog with just three legsYou'll trade in all your troubles for good fortune

You can find yourself a mojoYou can rub a magic frogBut there's nothin' quite as lucky as a three-legged dogGet a rabbit's foot or horseshoeLight some candles on a logBut there's nothin' quite as lucky as a three-legged dog

Now, Uncle Mose got his guitarHe calls her Sweet JanineHe's played the blues since his young hands were ableOne night a dog with just three legsWalked by in AbileneNext day they signed Mose to a record label

You can find yourself a mojo

You can rub a magic frogBut there's nothin' quite as lucky as a three-legged dogGet a rabbit's foot or horseshoeLight some candles on a logBut there's nothin' quite as lucky as a three-legged dog


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Ezekiel thought he'd lost his farmHis account was overdrawnCome late in April, all his crops were freezin'He won't forget the day he met

A dog with one leg gone'Cause his corn grew ten feet high that harvest season

You can find yourself a mojoYou can rub a magic frogBut there's nothin' quite as lucky as a three-legged dogGet a rabbit's foot or horseshoeLight some candles on a log

But there's nothin' quite as lucky as a three-legged dog

When hard times come into your lifeTake you down a couple pegsDon't ever let your darkest night defeat youJust remember somewhere out thereIs a dog with just three legsWho someday might just hobble up and greet you

You can find yourself a mojoYou can rub a magic frogBut there's nothin' quite as lucky as a three-legged dog

Get a rabbit's foot or horseshoeLight some candles on a logBut there's nothin' quite as lucky as a three-legged dog


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TESTAMENT

It's a prehistoric warning

It's a dream too dark to holdIt's the only bedtime storyThat can make the young grow old

Speculation clouds its endingHieroglyphics trace its startA boy can't chase a windmill

If a bomb blows it apart

TestamentHollow voices tell us how the game is wonTestamentToast the good life from the barrel of a gunTestament

Search for choices till there's no more to inventThe child's mind that's left behindBecomes our testament

Got a message you should partyGot a message you will dieGot a message that you're nothing

Till you're in the public eye

Scramble for your fifteen minutesSee how far your psyche's bentBetween a thumbprint on the blotterAnd a footprint in cement

TestamentHollow voices tell us how the game is wonTestamentToast the good life from the barrel of a gunTestament


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Search for choices till there's no more to inventThe child's mind that's left behindBecomes our testament

It's an ancient incantationIt's the smoke on distant skiesIt's a message of survivalThat can cut through all the lies

It's the kingdom you'll inheritIt's the kingdom we were lentAnd every dream that falls between

Becomes our testament

TestamentHollow voices tell us how the game is wonTestamentToast the good life from the barrel of a gunTestamentSearch for choices till there's no more to invent

The child's mind that's left behindBecomes our testament


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PLAYGROUND

When I'm old and nearly deadAnd I'm shackled as my smile dipsThrough the words that you once said:That a man becomes a child as his mind slips awayWill my wisdom be a cage?(Ancient children in the sunsetPlaying old men on the stage)

I'll be thinking of you often, though I may forget your name

Won't you promise me a playground when I get there just the same?

As the fire of youth subsidesAnd I'm crippled as my soul yearnsFor a challenge with the tideBut the water rushes to me

And then it turns awayWill the season leave me cold?(Weakly propped against a bedpostSearching for young boys to scold)I'll be happy as a merchant selling pencils if I'm lame

Won't you promise me a playground when I get there just the same?

As my mind becomes confusedAnd I'm broken as my dreams leapPast the long hours I refusedTo believe my innocenceCould ever creep awayWon't you leave me to my craft?(Carving canes and painting glasses

Always shutting out the draft)I'll play checkers with my shadow, counting memories by the gameWont you promise me a playground when I get there just the same?


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Portrait of the Artist

House on Borderlands Full Copy

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