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born into thick wet night, under sliver moon, on rickety boat, tossed about by the great dark waters, when i became albion and albion became me. soon as took small steps was i taught to bear the boat, as mother
beautiful angel of protection, went to rich, muddy land 'til god
hung stars. be brave boy for her. the sea stayed, a second mother.
in still night sang small songs of green islands with sister.
devised easy lies in bemusing time alone, learned the sea,
awash with troubles, off the dank islands of dreams, like a
mute dog chained in the alfalfa. (you know I can't stay here forever)
would crenelate my being,
for dubious day faint streetlight’s flicker and cry of liquor
would pull me there, seeking new truth, wondering at
albion’s bursting life, as mother’s dream-telling fought
fears...always loved to speak of me in third person.
as it happens i was left there only then to find,
more of me than ever i’d known and none of it in my mind...
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2. |
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relentlessly dreamed of father’s treacherous ghost.
met me in tiered tower, where bold black bells tolled.
grew dimmer he did and darker in mind.
invented prayers and asked great god to lead blank way to him,
as he had no plans to know me.
heard him scratch and trample by, found only failing trails of scot blood
i couldn’t cultivate hate enough to forsake.
open doors father, so cold here in vast recess of the sea.
we may sail off in tears, embarrassed of sad hearts, all saints sing along, at night, and drink to love of mother, with only moonlight bearing quiet witness...
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3. |
Lacked No Poignancy
01:02
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frightened face of hers lacked no poignancy, had excess yellow charm.
was sometimes fiery red and short of breath, sometimes desperate.
carried a foot stomping stubbornness nearer to ripe reason than rude.
when didn’t know the language spoken, prayed for confidence to try.
always prayerful, blessedly brave and yet was still a child’s face.
a child with faith in god enough to make albion a beginner.
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4. |
Albion Morphed
00:49
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albion morphed, with showers of tearful sky, powerful, huge waters
and blind years of dinghy to land school.
taught me tired teacher’s fallen passion and politics of child cliques.
spots of earth stretched out and shook like dusty bears, begging question.
longed to look out eyehole cracks of rocks, in which one might sleep.
albion, so long lost, in dreary social infancy, craved intoxicating music,
poet’s strife.
with woeful goodbye, pushed myself, eyes open, into the icy waters.
became what the sea could deftly hold and thrashing me she was,
for every yard i swam to the islands of dreams.
with an empty cup and lyric link to the heavens,
mardi gras of journey had begun...
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5. |
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from the start the good times were plenty, from the start it was cool and we were kings, near the end, it was the same as any ending, takes a while to talk about these things. it was rules and regulations against saviors and salvations, i mean we were boys who wanted more from life than spit ! we were tied up in tomorrow, laughter, booze and sorrow, but the happiness was just in getting it, are there dreams enough for all of us to fit, another island wouldn't hurt a bit, alone inside my weary dreams to sit...
alternating:
…found, friends, unbowed, to no ends, shared, took, frightened and forsook, inspired, black gardens, crosses, then hardens, bathes, betrays, leaves and stays, withdrawn, protected, unwilling, disconnected, acting unaffected...
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6. |
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i feel a drop of rain let spill, oh god, my prayers had quite a will,
for that’s no rain, that’s alcohol; beer wine every one, and all.
i see a puddle, steps ahead and dive into this drunken bed
and swim with such a great delight, as only thought i ever might...
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7. |
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and in my tipsy reverie, an angel came to visit me,
‘cause i’d been searching endlessly,
through each bright inlet of the sea,
above my head, beneath my feet,
the alleyways, the city streets,
and bottles upon bottles futilely,
for the honorable world she’d bring to me,
so i would hide the worser half of me...
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8. |
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surveyed daily wreckage from a home in bleeding trees,
albion had practiced killing principles,
i had nursed my fear of love, with pickled hands that couldn’t grasp the gift,
did well at disappointing god above...
and how to hide my heart inside my fist,
while what destroyed me fit me like a glove...
she: “where’s your girlfriend...?
“is that drugs...?”
“i feel like you totally understand me...”
he: “sorry, uh, what was your name again...?
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9. |
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the poison i’m smoking, the poison is choking me,
i haven’t spoken, i’m broken, i’m broken, i’m broken....
and it looks like all my nightmares took on personalities
and they won’t behave and i’m a willing slave
to all these worthless saints and thieves.
and certainly life’s irony is never lost on me,
that my island seems the safest place in all the troubled sea,
the demons that i call my friends are these,
the demons that i call my friends are these...
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10. |
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soldier: “halt! no passage to the other islands again, you will stay!”
albion: “but albion must… i’ve lost songs… gone 'round the bend…
have to fight my way back… this whole war is because of me!”
soldier: “uh huh.... just this once! …but leave all defenses stripped…
it’s killing the islands, the whole damn lot!”...
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11. |
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as you wipe away your falling tears i’m falling,
where you hide your face i’ll see,
where you walk, the place you rest in,
the cove you make your mother’s nest in,
sail to any port upon the sea,
then turn around and see it’s me,
turn around and see it’s me...
leading into congregation praying the Lord’s prayer:
our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, the kingdom come, thy will be done...
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12. |
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i want for all the riches up in heaven,
i want for all the riches here on earth,
i want the peaceful sea of never wanting,
for, wanting is itself a costly curse...
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13. |
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So; worthily thrown away is any dream too realistic.
albion hasn’t even sarcastic use for realistic dreams.
savior bring dreams asking certain impossibilities of all humanity.
conjure dreams inspiring purest, most hopeful, most lustful desires.
compel me to dreams offering green apocalypse, renaissance, bright wars within.
wearing accomplishments like a raw doctorate will i go then
and, if without this trial , without this triumph… to kiss the new millennium.
chose all of this out, in some starless corner of tight universe.
playing it all out on the deep blue waters, under moonlight showers.
peace in wet islands now, how long? only sweet breath of cosmos knows.
black waves caressing now, white glow points pathways...
numberless...
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Brent David Fraser Los Angeles, California
#Singer #Songwriter #Writer #Poet #Actor #FSAScot #Sober - What's in it for me is covered. How I can help is my quest.
Living the Dream that helps others in living theirs. 777 #BDF
www.instagram.com/bdf.love.affluence.creator
imdb.me/brentdavidfraser
youtube.com/TheBrentdavid67
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twitter.com/Brent_D_Fraser
... more
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