The Voyage of the Black Angel
(sic semper erat et sic semper erit)
Hail
famine! Hail pestilence!
Hail
exile by the all hail! Hereafter
farewell:
I’ll salute your iron curtain fence,
born
of my old mother’s common sense,
boneyards
voting for more hate, less expense:
so
here’s two fingers.
On
each clack black beaded abacus,
is
black numbered calculus rehearsed,
boot-stamping
compassion’s face underfoot,
with
backward thoughts in forward books,
where
I will suffer no longer to look.
Come
cowled crow, come hooded rook,
choke
coarse song wrote thick in soot,
huddle
round this soiled hole and wail
at
these mud-clagged fungussed fingernails
that
gouge deep pits in furled red sails.
Rend
my tunic in twain, chant lifeless tales
of
blistered earth and rusting plough
and
decay - for you are all dead to me now.
Therefore
shiver, therefore stare:
blackness,
blackness everywhere,
but
not a drop for ink.
Blackness,
blackness everywhere,
and
not a thought to think
and
on the precipice of the brink
we
sink still, and still we sink.
Hangs
in baleful frigidity, that yellowed eye
in
rigid death, does mortify
about
my neck, rank albatross petrifies.
I
must ever burden witness thus
cloaked
- so in grey feathered trust
come
what may, strike glissando scythes
on
the day that sees Angel rise.
Born
on Angel’s wings, Black Angel sings,
curvatures
of celestial arcs she skims,
whilst
below, our clenched Father’s fist
is
hell, ever present and never diminished,
stands
fury fast hot fiery cinders glowing,
will
ever succeed and ever growing.
Pandemonium
beneath sheds seven wraths.
He
does send thunderbolts, holes stiff cloth
sometimes
where He stirs himself from sloth,
with
gluttonous tongue his mouth does froth,
watcher
of the skies lusts his envious eyes,
plots
mutinous murders, and ever tries
to
tempt, gobs narcissistic luring lies,
covets
all souls. Terrifies ancient mariners,
glues
all our sticky dreams with horrid fears.
Here
Gabriel cries ‘batten your heart to me,
three
personned Angel, and in faces three,
clutch
we to our hearts seven astral seas,
my
full souled faithful mariners bold,
in
hope we sail, true hearts’ hope we hold,
to
buy back in swords the hope we sold.’
Yet,
in whispers loud, did I still hear doubt,
the
quietest hush impairs his loudest shout:
‘hell
beneath never will bequeath damned ship,
all
quaking damned spirit in Albion sleep,
who
nightly soil cold thinning sheets in fear
to
hear old fathers’ slippers creeping near’.
Hang
fast on guard rails those sailors slipping,
to
gaze in fear below black cosmos shipping:
How
high? How far? Nought tangible exists
but
drab astral grit. To position fix
we
trust solely to chance and backwards glance
for
nought lies forward but bleak expanse,
to
port lies chasm, all starboard gapes blank,
and
aft, our wake trawls through vacuum rank.
But
does this my Gabriel Oak dismay?
He
musters crew thus: ‘lay back and belay’,
tongue
speaks in gyres, prating spirals higher,
and
winds that push ‘gainst infernal fires;
wind-some
words and acts he does inspire,
Angel
Rising tacks He to confound Beast,
bell,
book and candle inures him darkling thief.
Now,
first mate formidable black Iago,
who,
in kind sparing, lays about we cargo
with
spitting cat, rouses he all slugabeds,
does
foot in fire Black Angel’s quarterdeck,
with
message marker grim, speaks of sin,
of
despair, able seaman’s unsaved skin
warns
he will backthrow all them overboard,
return
weak scum to kind Satanic hordes.
Oh,
must I, in terror, relate you all this
from
hope’s fragile, wooden matchstick
titanic
folly, being pulled from dreamed
flotsam
of ice, converge they in soft schemes
all
soft boulders, how we trembled to see,
it
gazed into me, it gazed into thee,
no
amount of strong Cornish timber hewn,
or
spilled black potent ink on pages thrown,
will
ever save your fading living soul,
and
wooden cat’s cradle from balsa made
with
weakest yarn, none can be ever saved.
They
by scuppers mustered unfaithful speak,
fair
Albion’s defences cannot be breached
in
such a hollow wooden vessel weak.
Was
I such a one? I but must report:
such
poor phrases use, sad refrains self-taught,
by
his iron will bound, his powers serve,
this
albatross noose do I well deserve,
in
Godspell gaze upon my colossus
who
beards destiny, finds no solace
in
accepting fate, resists and abjures,
must
tear down edifice to search out cures,
visits
Angel hordes in his uprising,
in
perpetuity rise, or fall trying,
with
courage unconfined, in fury’s name
will
he far distant paradise regain,
Oak
utters such words of power and class,
must
move empty grey abeyant mass,
all
this but still unborn, within his head
his
deeds unstruck. His beliefs unsaid
but
come they will and thus will come to pass,
he
captains Black Angel through cosmos vast.
Above
us and below, that voracious maw,
bidding
our weak spirits through open door,
even
now does belch forth hands of hellfire,
hot
hypnotic hues pulsate wild with ire,
beckons
enervated souls, vows to give
comfort
of frail old age, in pleasures live
only
learn how blind eyes must easy turn,
accept
wastrels and tramps were born to burn,
‘mistaught
fools and poets debate estate,
philosophical
sophists conjugate
rebellion
against what always must be;
strike
out against common sense. Society
needs
not fools’ voices upraised in wrecking,
so
leap, dive from their false wooden decking.’
Gabriel
will hear nought of this and cries:
‘Come,
my brave bullies, vile hell speaketh lies!
Kingdoms
do self-serving boundaries get,
Parliaments
must all limitations set,
Ministers
forward their sincere regret,
to
all taking drugs in their woe to forget.’
And
yet hell now does blossom such beauty,
in
fire-flowers full, each does forget duty,
gapes
wide mouths enthralled, drop hawsers taut,
step
on guardrails near, abyss’ contact wrought,
buried
within colours, thunderstruck bright
strikes
axe head bold, saps frail resolve to fight,
unwilling
dragged to hell’s rainbow black light.
Battle
each step on step with gamboge orbs,
toils
fatigued viridian limbs to straw,
wipes
intellects transfixed by stunned phlox,
jolt
umber planked decks in footed deadlock.
They
clutching shipmate’s shoulder, terror struck
cry
desire, grip fire, from torsos fingers plucked
undulate
towards beast’s belly in accord,
will
glad throw hapless soul far overboard.
Then:
another flame-flash of gaudy gloom,
surely
lures resistant to certain doom.
And
must I attest that, in their despair,
one
third hurdle rails to brave nought but air,
arms
flailing, sheer plummet mid cosmic black,
apples
back-fall wild towards gatherers’ sack
in
feral horror, scream joy and release,
will
in unrest endless seek endless peace.
With
defiant clamour, spoke Captain thus:
‘I
flout thee, I give up not these souls for lost,
hold
them iron in my hand, draw them back,
I
fear nothing of hell’s abhorrent attack,
gaudy
peacock colours, they seize not me,
we
did gaze into dark, our minds were freed,
long
did I contemplate and I rebel:
I
fear not heaven, and I fear not hell.’
In
that very instant was descent stalled,
time
like a snake on its belly did crawl,
powers
supernatural emanate;
his
outreaching palm resonate
sounds
and visions, electric cobalt strike,
to
his knees falls Gabriel, washed in light,
dragged
to brink by endeavour of fight.
‘Kind
Ancient,’ speaks he words of breath bereft,
pinioned
to guardrails, staring at death,
‘bind
me with rope hard tight to masthead strong,
that
I may out front hell, look bold and long
into
that which appals, hear me roar
that
sailors who crew Black Angel can soar.’
Contorted
his face, returning to grace
those
fast falling through time, falling through space,
by
steel will alone, his powers do grow,
now
bound to oak stanchion by black Iago,
spits
Gabriel’s brave spite through teeth of hate,
returns
one third to deck regenerate.
All’s
in vain, for Iago now desp’rate spies,
seven
headed beast descend hooded skies,
each
pulped profile, resemblance vile
of
division through winding lobbies file
and
its eyes have it, nays repugnant pulse
malignantly,
such horrors that convulse
in
braying donkeys, stinks shrieking poise,
drown
each other in vainglorious noise,
miscataplasms
there in mirrors hatched
are
rotting eggs to writhing necks attached,
chop-glop
meatballs speared on splintered stick,
protein
spiked scabrous virus-chops sit,
salivates
its liquid thick, upon us
scalds
as burning acid to pit flesh to pus,
full
seven sets of grinding tusks grotesque
masticate,
chomp in erectile unrest,
hot
hollow howls echo hollow hunger,
on
every approach grow squealing louder,
such
nails on boards are these! The mind abhors,
in
escape summons full-pleasured whores,
sated
flaccid thousands who tease, withdraw,
pant
they in kaleidoscope of flesh raw
rubbed
red, they tantalise, speak of bed,
to
rest you hot weary warrior’s head,
sultry
beckoning salty thoughts that slip
on
her face that launched a thousand ships.
As
one we reach aloft, to shed our pain,
to
dance again, feel blessing of love’s rain
in
fascinated grip. But now scream all,
as
guttural yawls replace lover’s calls,
all
horror as daggered fangs maul the first
then
rip at throat, to quench its bloody thirst,
overture
of carnage, blood’s symphony
of
movements cruel, casts to periphery
this
lifeless corpse, then seizes another
wide
gapes its mouth, splits gizzard, smothers,
snuffs
out the fluting candles from his eyes,
twitch
Black Angel’s deck in piled bodies high,
holds
each squirming trunk hope’s counterfeit
in
pitch boiled thistle thorned orbit,
all
monkshood laburnum it gives bouquet,
we
living, we dying, we fall to prey.
Oak
tears wild at his bond blistered wrists
in
dread: ‘Loose me now!’ does he loud insist,
but
trembling Iago, defending with shield,
is
thrust against bulkhead, prepared to yield
in
servility’s name, pragmatist he,
will
abandon ship, seek serenity,
can
in no way answer our Captain’s plea,
for
his thoughts sit with hell beneath the sea,
falls
fast to bloody deck, lies he there prone,
says:
‘Now must you steer Black Angel alone.
With
my dying breath, curse I your fool’s pride,
return
me to hell, let Satan provide.”
First
Mate slain fast, by whirling cyclone culled,
its
grim harvest gathered, cadavers pulled
then
tossed in febrile stack contorted, sleep
all
in rigid twists, silent sileage heaps
fit
only to fertilise, compost fresh:
smacked
up quick-stuffed sacks of severed flesh.
Abhorrent
commission all but complete,
seven
gargoyles full gorged with blood replete,
do
shake their gory locks at me. In debate
it
thus seemed, foul horrid recess, pulsate
implacable
with imperious tongues
forked,
all ablaze, of smoking black lunged
voices
hoarse, talk descent and second course.
Gabriel’s
head gripped hard by his remorse,
for
now we were three. Without helmsman’s hand
Black
Angel spun, in hapless circling damned,
not
leeward nor windward slack canvas sails
billow
full tossed, fanning woeful details
sketched
dreadful in deed upon the deck,
must
Oak long survey all his pride has wrecked,
for
so it must be? My betraying eyes
do
fool all other senses, speak in lies
to
my heart and mind, for towering high,
coalescing
from dark mists of horseflies
that
have sucked full feast from congealed gore,
multiply
in blissom rutting, rise in sores,
bodies
plump in blood, obese with cruor,
rage-crazed,
drunk with lust do each devour,
they
increase in size, increase in power
like
knives erect: stamen tongues deflower
driving
deep in disgust, stick blubber, burst
but
this only shall slake another thirst,
proceeding
eternal in these actions,
thus
two remain to feed rank attraction,
flick
each proboscis of plasmatic leech
bloated
mandibles; fatally breeched
mutually
gush their fetid mortar forth.
Coagulated
from stinking froth
come
stunted towers, mocking power’s seat,
a
Parliament that is what it eats,
in
claret robing room drink Lords and thieves,
beneath
cloisters grey all lawyers deceive,
a
commons chamber of uncommon rogues,
scuttling
black beetles in herds of droves
through
lobbies minute. Strikes loud Doom’s bell
and
upon Speaker’s Chair, its purpose fell,
seven
mouthed colossi of front bench
beholds
Black Angel with reason intense,
boiling
with blood thirst, soiled in its stench,
beat
hammers on steel in fourteen fists clenched.
Like
Prometheus bound, Gabriel’s fire
to
hell returned, his predicament dire,
a
subjugate captive of emptied mind
and
spirit dashed, imagination blind
or
thus it must seem to all who observe.
Victorious
they who toast and self-serve
spirits,
finest wines, blow up and full time,
carouse
in contemplation of their crimes.
Think
they his war is broke, his words choked,
disregard
common law as but a joke,
poll
self-opinion, for each other vote
gloating,
for helpless may Black Angel float.
Music
descends over shattered midships
in
softer tones, that sweet with honey drips
and
hails: ‘Master, our ship she lies adrift,
aground
amid time’s shoals, these dragging mists
as
gravity, in eddies twist, wrench hull,
tormented
beams warp, against each other pull,
we
mislocate and bound for hell’s border:
My
Captain, raise voice to direct orders.’
In
our surprise, my neck did pull my gaze
so
slowly upwards, by this sound amazed,
brought
all into focus plain upon ship’s wheel
and
hope, brief snatched, from drunken beast steal
in
its sloppy misattention, so very sure
in
certain conquest had bolted door.
Ghost
whispered notions pulse veins brave,
faint
bloods begin to turn each pallid page,
simmering,
boy Michael, his muscles tight
with
steel intent, unscabbards sword to fight.
Gabriel,
wakening Titan designs,
implants
his deliberate thoughts in mine,
buds
deep in seedling shoots, thrusts and burrows
in
drilling ploughs, brows meeting in furrows
to
turn the clod, do break rich scented earth,
issue
perfumes, fragrance of petrichor
so
like Spring tides, pushing flotsam ashore,
stranding
entangling weeds at high tideline,
with
stroking combs filters mind’s clenched grime,
regards
Parliament above; thus speaks:
‘Rise
up, writer. Loose these bonds. I must seek
conference
with those who would bar passage,
mar
our return, visit their bloody damage
upon
all we think dear; yet still they fear,
withhold
some final blow to stay us here.’
At
his bidding, find agency and cut
with
sawing blade those inhibiting knots,
springs
free, beholds he harsh Albatross noose,
locked
deep within untreated living truth,
does
sharp snap finger at boy Michael’s knife,
commanding
War’s weapon withdrawn from sight;
it
falls in him, his to weigh death with life,
stands
he upon fo’c’sle with halo bright,
outstretches
palms, shows nail holes of heart’s breach,
didactic
his words, bitter venom of speech
to
all Hell, let loose for damnation’s sake:
Hell’s
minions crawl, Hell’s underlings quake
within
drear Tartarus, spawn of abscess
from
carnage constructed, Oak thus address:
‘You
self-servants of public apathy,
administrators
all of misery,
by
self-abuse endless bureaucrats born.
Misbegotten
issue of clotted sheets
came
cornucopia of thieves and cheats,
swindlers
of life, impostors of hope,
warpers
of trapdoors and hempen neck ropes,
connoisseurs
of pestilent fouled gibbet,
tally
fool’s silver with sticky digits.
Brave
be your hunt of the lamest and old,
barn
bloodhounds in heat, shed weakest in cold,
fornicate
mistresses, fattening wives,
swillers
of spirit, guzzlers of life.
Devising
disguise to veil your self-sin
with
sanctions, plans to obfuscate with spin,
hack
tillers’ hands, blast fecundity,
bray
‘order, order’ with brash nugacity,
Line
lard bellies plump, ram blood pimpled rumps,
fill
litter boxed runts of dim-witted drunks
that
bloody butcher deep visioners’ hues:
rise
I from Hell’s deeps and here salute you.
Come
forth: from public schools whence all rotted.
Come
forth: from pigsties’ stench whence all rutted.
Come
forth: hail power corrupt bought with bribes.
Come
forth: hail foul mendacity breed lies.
While
all, who free gave their suffrage, decay
in
tin voting booths, simper; daily pray
to
take of your bread, deception condone,
marry
in haste to die fearful alone,
their
banal charter’d evil perpetuates
in
mushrooms grave virus of stagnant state.
And
repentance? I hear none. You connive
with
overheated brains, pretexts contrive
even
now, do rebellion deride,
within
Parliament’s walls safe reside,
well,
so you may think. I bring you to sink,
my
masters and whores, insurrection think,
now
hear me. You will go down with this ship:
my
cannons charged, war’s dogs do I let slip
with
fury’s calm. I do chaunt loud my name,
sing
music infernal from passions’ flames.
And
you, my Father, hide not behind this filth
engendered
by patronage and wealth.
Crematoria’s
flames now burning cool,
debouch
into light, expose visage cruel,
cloak
you not behind rules, open curtain
to
conference meek and outcome certain,
for
I am Gabriel! I am returned
from
abyss, harsh judgement to overturn,
and
passage, never doubt it, will I take,
in
passage do I spit at spite and hate.
For
my music fills your echoing void,
with
muse strike your cerebrum ammonoid,
every
ambition I was mocked for,
dark
seasons which sealed thunderstruck door
on
my dreams, plunged arrows in my hope,
some
thunderous incarnate misanthrope
of
knitted brows, gritted breath, humourless,
to
beat with fists until he shall confess,
would
throw down lines that smack only despair,
boot
brutish beast senseless and withhold care
from
but a child, in his gift to resist,
but
hungered only for proud Father’s kiss;
and,
oh, so stern it was, so hard, so long
it
takes; memories stiffen echoes strong.
Some
forgive. Tis divine, thaws ice, melts frost,
but
I sing of waste, of bane, of decades lost.
Here
do I mend my staff! Here present cross!
Now,
hark well, writer, release Albatross!
Robbed
passage now, do I seize from thee,
and
may all fallen Angels rise with me!’
She
awakens. Thick lanyard loosed. Drops,
soft
finds deck, now stretching in life unlocked,
unfurls
her wings as Gabriel inspired,
sights
potent staff, unleashes fires,
in
forked tongues speak inferno’s oaths
of
covenants betrayed and compacts broke,
yet
here never was a truer word spoke,
as
shrugging Albatross discards death’s yoke.
Her
neb sharp draws blood from trembling chest,
She
livid awakes from eternal rest
in
blades and razors. But such blood as life
beginning,
that takes hold in stabbing knives,
becomes
us both in scales that fall from eyes
wide
open, can see all again, surprised
when
suns fall into them. Blood is flowing,
She
gazing on Gabriel, all knowing,
shepherds
he in return, crooked visage grim,
such
utterance strong, revenge to begin,
how
cosmos did shake, all pity forsook,
his
righteous might with crimson bloody look,
he
bids her take flight. Albatross rising,
Parliament’s
stones rippled and writhing,
we
three did shield in awe our fixed gaze,
cast
brief in tablet, stock standfast amazed,
Tartarus
does trickling crumble to dust
so
slowly. Reluctant to part from us,
as
a lover will ghost his fond farewell,
for
She fears not heaven, She fears not hell,
does
seven headed beast now dwindle
entreating
retreat from Albatross’ spell.
Look.
Now appears in divine apogee,
circumscribed
boundary circling free,
faint
exit, once snatched; jealous grasped,
concealed
from hope’s harbour, but there at last,
the
sky is full of stars. They whisper freedom
long
sought, revealed by Tartarus’ prism,
would
refresh Tantalus himself. Tide swells;
She
swooping does unlock the gates of Hell,
Black
Angel’s pregnant sails do full expand,
halyards
strain; ship’s wheel winds for want of hand;
eager
creak decks. Prepared at last to ram,
with
alacrity, Gabriel commands:
‘Boy
Michael, bring ship full starboard hard,
cram
sail on sail, all safeties disregard,
at
fissure with speed, steer collision course,
for
death or life will kiss with brutal force.’
No
further orders need the Boy; takes wheel;
no
furtive attempt made to cunning steal
escape,
in final fling does beast awake
from
torpor, in seven heads ghastly shakes
for
the sake of vindictive spite, no less,
but
Michael now its attentions address
with
smoking sword, wild in whirling attack,
hard
teaching good manners it sorely lacks;
that
which was left intact by Albatross,
could
past his steely threshold never cross,
until
all heads severed lay at his feet.
We
followed her and with wonder did greet,
rainbow
of heaven’s stars, above, beyond,
summoning
all we three with Angel’s song.
Yet,
now our voyage but begins,
born
of hope on Angel’s wings;
some
think that Hell is but a fable,
told
to those fresh from the cradle
and
think so still, do not consider,
that
Hell’s reflected in all mirrors,
held
hard within your looking glass,
all’s
last is first, all’s first is last,
Pandora,
opening forbidden box,
made
writhing serpents of her locks,
sailors
who would fight devils rank,
must
first prepare to walk the plank,
in
justice’s name might claim no prize,
come
darkest day that Angels rise.
