The Voyage of the Black Angel

                                                         

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.