THE ROADMAN                   25th April1985



This is the day the horses warp and nest
The time glass cobras swarm in the air
And I am bleached with daggered panic
At the centre of  a stone circle in wonder and fear
Old songs, a pale serenade

To examine the historical chemistry of an ancient mind
The strange windows of form and colour
Traced with fingers of enchanted hands

Graft the falcon to your heart as you run
And hide in the clean fields, deep and low
Here, each scream is clear and wild
And you wait for the animals to turn silver
Quiet in the brilliant stillness
Haunted by images that drive you hard and alone

Voices, forced out by devils inside
Ideas of released power
Bright with the shine of jet
A return to the way we were before
We will not come back again
Together we dared to journey, learning to become everyone
Martyred in the trinities and mutilated in the Salvation of the Unconscious Muse
Forced to recieve the danger, I do what the Dream Command says


I will be the puppet of earth and smoke
Adopted by every burning God
Sacrifice my mind to become more than real
In a life which patrols the edges of Heaven and Hell
In love with the beauty of every side at once
Trapped in my own called universe, internal states in anarchy
Primal and mindless in vicious ritual
Each play slowly unfolding around me

It is time to lead the children, time to follow spirits and shadows
Women of the river have stitched my soul with witchcraft
No one sees us dancing here, we do what we want
Discoverers in the lighted midnight
The celebration turned to the harlequin dance
Holy and intoxicated beyond all time
There is a cord attached to Man, drifted across spinning minds
A Lord comes crawling for his soul in a rush of platinum suicides
And the crystal whisper of strings

I am to awaken in a blue funeral
Born while the Sun eclipses Venus
When diamonds and magnets have been fired into my head
Artist, authour, sculptor, all the invocations worked
I have my spirit inheritance now
And songs of creation and destruction
Revalations of a split consciousness
An exorcism and collection of every poison

Will you ignite in a cyclone
Or walk the domain of insomnia
A vision in the rising night?
Come to the horizons of thought, chase the kingdoms
Hungry for strayed Gods and obey pleasures calling

Watch, learn and act
Surrender to your freedom
The Roadman has returned.    




/// This, along with Atavisms, (which was part of this) came all at once and has been 
untouched since then. I had started living in a Dali/Bosch landscape, scattered across 
dimensions etc....Classic 19 year old. I had a deep fascination with how the letters looked 
on the page and hallucinated pictures from the actual writing. This was a happy insanity, 
although the fragments of my psyche were littering the floor.  I got what I asked for -three or 
four years before, I had started to make experiments with thinking, twisting the mind to 
get at  visions and ideas, the mystic had a sexuality to me. I really believed these pages, 
I lived inside them every day...///