THE SECOND COMING

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

  — William Butler Yeats (1865 - 1939), Irish poet.

NEW PORNOGRAPHERS - MYRIAD HARBOUR

I took a plane, I took a train.
Ah! Who cares? You always end up in the city.
I said to Carl: “look up for once,
See just how the sun sets in the sky.”
I said to John: “do you think the girls here
Ever wonder how they got so pretty?”
- Well, I do. -

Look out upon the Myriad Harbour
Look out upon the Myriad Harbour
Look out upon the Myriad Harbour

All the boys with their homemade microphones
Have very interesting sounds.
All the girls fall into ruin
Droppin’ out of school, breakin’ Daddies’ hearts
Just to hang around.

I walked into the local record store
And asked for an American music anthology
It sounds fun.
They tore at my skirt and stuck it on the walls at PS1.

I took a plane, I took a train.
Ah! Who cares? You always end up in the city.
Stranded at Bleecker and Broadway
And looking for something to do.
Someone somewhere asked me: “is there anything in
particular I can help you with?”
All I ever wanted help with was you.

Look out upon the Myriad Harbour
Look out upon the Myriad Harbour
Look out upon the Myriad Harbour
Look out upon the Myriad Harbour

THE WHITE ROOM

The obvious is difficult
To prove. Many prefer
The hidden. I did, too.
I listened to the trees.

They had a secret
Which they were about to
Make known to me–
And then didn’t.

Summer came. Each tree
On my street had its own
Scheherazade. My nights
Were a part of their wild

Storytelling. We were
Entering dark houses,
Always more dark houses,
Hushed and abandoned.

There was someone with eyes closed
On the upper floors.
The fear of it, and the wonder,
Kept me sleepless.

The truth is bald and cold,
Said the woman
Who always wore white.
She didn’t leave her room.

The sun pointed to one or two
Things that had survived
The long night intact.
The simplest things,

Difficult in their obviousness.
They made no noise.
It was the kind of day
People described as “perfect.”

Gods disguising themselves
As black hairpins, a hand-mirror,
A comb with a tooth missing?
No! That wasn’t it.

Just things as they are,
Unblinking, lying mute
In that bright light—
And the trees waiting for the night.

  — Charles Simic (b. 1938), American poet. From The Book of Gods and Devils, published by Harcourt Brace & Company, 1990. Copyright © 1990 by Charles Simic.

GOSPEL NOBLE TRUTHS

Born in this world        Sit you sit down
You got to suffer        Breathe when you breathe
Everything changes        Lie Down you lie down
You got no soul        Walk where you walk

Try to be gay        Talk when you talk
Ignorant happy        Cry when you cry
You get the blues        Lie down you lie down
You eat jellyroll        Die when you die

There is one Way        Look when you look
You take the high road        Hear what you hear
In your big Wheel        Taste what you taste here
8 steps you fly        Smell what you smell

Look at the View        Touch what you touch
Right to horizon        Think what you think
Talk to the sky        Let go let it go slow
Act like you talk        Earth Heaven & Hell

Work like the sun        Die when you die
Shine in your heaven        Die when you die
See what you done        Lie down you lie down
Come down & walk        Die when you die

New York Subway, October 17, 1975

  — Allen Ginsberg (1926 - 1997), American poet

SNOW PATROL - ISOLATION (John Lennon Cover)

People say we got it made
Don’t they know we’re so afraid?
Isolation
We’re afraid to be alone
Everybody got to have a home
Isolation

Just a boy and a little girl
Trying to change the whole wide world
Isolation
The world is just a little town
Everybody trying to put us down
Isolation

I don’t expect you to understand
After you’ve caused so much pain
But then again, you’re not to blame
You’re just a human, a victim of the insane

We’re afraid of everyone
Afraid of the sun
Isolation
The sun will never disappear
But the world may not have many years
Isolation

XTC - SENSES WORKING OVERTIME

Hey, hey
The clouds are whey
There’s straw for the donkeys
And the innocents can all sleep safely
All sleep safely

My, my
Sun is pie
There’s fodder for the cannons
And the guilty ones can all sleep safely
All sleep safely

And all the world is football-shaped
It’s just for me to kick in space
And I can see, hear, smell, touch, taste
And I’ve got one, two, three, four, five
Senses working overtime
Trying to take this all in
I’ve got one, two, three, four, five
Senses working overtime
Trying to taste the difference ‘tween a lemon and a lime
Pain and pleasure and the church bells softly chime

Hey hey
Night fights day
There’s food for the thinkers
And the innocents can all live slowly
All live slowly

My, my
The sky will cry
Jewels for the thirsty
And the guilty ones can all die slowly
All die slowly

And all the world is biscuit-shaped
It’s just for me to feed my face
And I can see, hear, smell, touch, taste
And I’ve got one, two, three, four, five
Senses working overtime
Trying to take this all in
I’ve got one, two, three, four, five
Senses working overtime
Trying to taste the difference ‘tween a lemon and a lime
Pain and pleasure and the church bells softly chime

And birds might fall from black skies (woo-woo)
And bullies might give you black eyes (woo-woo)
But to me they’re very, very beautiful (England’s glory)
Beautiful (a striking beauty)

And all the world is football-shaped
It’s just for me to kick in space
And I can see, hear, smell, touch, taste
And I’ve got one, two, three, four, five
Senses working overtime
Trying to take this all in
I’ve got one, two, three, four, five
Senses working overtime
Trying to tell the difference ‘tween the goods and grime
Turds and treasure
And there’s one, two, three, four, five
Senses working overtime
Trying to take this all in
I’ve got one, two, three, four, five
Senses working overtime
Trying to taste the difference ‘tween a lemon and a lime
Pain and pleasure and the church bells softly chime

NEW PORNOGRAPHERS - CHALLENGERS

Yes I know it was late
We were greeting the sun
Before long

And you live with someone
I live with somebody too
Leave it there

For safe keeping
One of the west village in plains
That was the custom
Come dawn

On the walls of the day
In the shade of the sun
We wrote down

Another vision of us
We were the challengers of
The unknown

“Be safe” you say
Whatever the mess you are, you’re mine, okay
If that is the custom
I’m down

Na-na na-na na-na na-na na-na
Na-na na-na na-na na-na na-na…

Until I see you around
Until we clear the accounts
Leave it there

Leave it to us
We are the challengers of
The unknown

Oh-la, oh-la, oh-la, oh-la
Oh-la, oh-la, oh-la, oh-la