1. |
a dance pale
03:52
|
|||
|
pull the string the stage is lit
choroemania
twist and jerk, a pale fit
for all to enjoy
what's behind the curtain?
a carrot on a string
the letters in your soup
are to the words you are to sing
for your supper
pull the string
dance
pull the string
the spider to its spout
the boulder to its hill
the dog to its crust
and the song for when it’s killed
it has been here waiting all along
for one and all
arise
remain
step in line
pull the sting
pull the string
pull the string
cut the string
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
tethered
their doubles drape
like tentacles
across the landscape
reaching and leering
retching and sneering
fingers of a beast
nails scratching east
silence and violence
they take the only two turns out there
the wolves howl and laugh
their red eyes on the path
they just stare
one day they may wake from this
the terrain will open up
black rain will erupt
and wash away the blank spaces
notions and faces
|
||||
3. |
black bile/goat song
04:00
|
|||
|
malicious militias of malcontent
and malaise make waves through the maze
of circuits fried, frayed, then tied,
to keep circulation made
the army morphs as its forces course
their images a blur
they fiercely shake and when focus takes
that’s how it occurs
scratching at the window, a howling at the moon
chirping of the loon at first light too soon
you beg the question please with no appease
to grease the palms of doom
the sleepwalk seeker mid-seize believes
the canvas to be blanked with ease
in it sees hallowed release
the cease to a disease
the puppet smiles at the rank and file
as it piles into the hall
blue faced they breath deep, imagine a meat sleep
and backslide into the fall
it was forged
it was scorched
that is all
no lingered smoke to choke upon
a smoldering that leaves no card to call
it was here
it is gone
that is all
no mirrors to point, reflect upon
nothing in its wake has stalled at all
it was
it is not
that is all
|
||||
4. |
when the gears whisper
04:12
|
|||
|
tap tap on the glass
what's growing in between?
scratch scratch on the glass
a figure appears in the steam
clear the film
see the sight
a vague silhouette
traits unformed by any light
powdered lines of faces
all facing face up
the clouds start to moan
the pain
they're filled up
the engine moans back
from in between
when the gears whisper, they scream
some built a glass bottom boat for when the flood comes
for the survivors, in case there was one
it breaks the compass when the air is static
it speeds at it, rabid, fanatic
and when the minutes turn to hours and to days
they bow their heads and through the glass they wave
the rushing waters bring them closer to further
away from the engine but the gears keep on turning
|
||||
5. |
milk and honey evermore
05:47
|
|||
|
scratching elated for the moment come soon
the last notch of many on the wall in my room
i am to set sail with the sinking of the moon
they built for my voyage not one boat but two
slumber eludes
with open eyes i dream
fantastic images of the sights i'll sure see
night dissipates in a swirl of reverie
and i'm delivered to dawns door for what awaits me
many days afloat i was still kept quite fed
and gathered many friends to dine on my spread
they swarmed their affections from miles toe to head
and helped me paint my boats from chestnut to red
the visions that dance
never imagined before
no past in my mind from life or from lore
i know now my boat
will meet no shore
we stay afloat
forever more
|
||||
6. |
condemnation banal
03:36
|
|||
|
i see the sky and thats all i see
it turns from red to green
and when it comes my time to kick at it
it will be by some strange machinery
i don't understand the rules
to this game i've refused to play
it doesn't matter much what i did or didn't
today or maybe yesterday
the sun was in my eyes
the day i knocked on that door
somewhere somebody else was probably doing something
and i knocked on the door four more
i toed my sign in the sand
a stranger in this place
and i couldn't barter the gallows any easier
than change the look on my face
i don't know my reason
any better than they know my name
and when they howl it won't be execration or hate
but approval for a moment mundane
|
||||
7. |
||||
|
watch your step don’t slip
over marbles hid
by the shadow of a porcelain doll
a tear in the page
sets the stage
for a performance of plays played foul
electric galaxies
replace the fallacies
he just sits and stares
when he breaks concentration
fancies a constellation
he bats at the bulbs like a bear
and who’s to say
who’s to know
he pulls the shades
to break the glow
quarantined between above and below
he lies awake in bed at night
and sharpens his knife to get it just right
the purpose for his practice rote
a very particular length of rope
his gaze meets a bird so still
perched upon his window sill
he reaches for the chain to pull
to hide the shocking sight until
its feathers puff out as it preens
its beak relates designs obscene
he doubles over and stumbles back
the birds eyes steady beady black
"that voice" he says "i know it well,
i’ve heard it ask, i've heard it tell"
it scratches the glass once with its claw
and fades into the evenings maw
and who’s to say
who’s to know
he hammers boards
to break the glow
and erases all traces of the windows puppet show
last bulb shatters the sky goes blind
but one last thread to tie and bind
his face clouds over as he fingers the blade
through the boards, the birds serenade
fist to his chin its twin outstretched
eyeballs the necessaries from whats left rest
under the shade of his shattered suns
he measures twice to cut only once
|
||||
8. |
shadowlands revisited
03:19
|
|||
|
hills take in their mouths the dead valleys below
and devour their tails sour, deliberate, and slow
tentacles uprooted, scatter and leave
torsos delivered, shatter and bleed
a great wicked blanket wraps the whole scene
they’ve been vanquished by certainty
but what did they dream?
of hallways of doors
that open to doors
that open to stairs
that lead to no floors
there’s a painting on the wall
what is the scene?
a stain from some memory
someone once had
leaving crumbs in between?
nothing happens so fast
none notice it’s gone
and the ringing in the bell swells
a thousand knells long
|
||||
9. |
the conductor
05:54
|
|||
|
it enters the theater silent
void of any distinguishing feature
no language no creed
no mark upon
this blank
this anonymous creature
it takes the stage
and with lack of a face
uses arm like appendages splendidly raised
a deep cloud is birthed of stirred dust, growth, and waste
and to feed its hollow
it swallows all space
it exists the theater silent as it came in
|
||||
10. |
||||
|
framed in the skylines
under tight confines
a tableau of what went
time spent it's
curtains on the big puppet
forms steam in the cold
planted in the garden
gathered around the hole
the bell tolls
curtains on the big puppet
illumination
illumination they cried
the spotlight shattered in to a million pieces
the glass replaced their eyes
illumination
illumination
i can see
welcome good stranger
yes we have a bed
and certainly some water runs somewhere
to the gathering in the hallway
pay you no deep mind
all matters sorted
all in good time
curtains
|
||||
the ben vee bedlamite bed and breakfast
i have never written anything that was not a comedy
If you like the ben vee bedlamite bed and breakfast, you may also like:
featured on Bandcamp Radio Feb 1, 2022
go to album
St Celfer returns with tracks culled from a series of live shows, each one a showcase for his inventive experimentalism.
go to album
Seattle’s St Celfer returns with four more boundary-breaking electronic compositions sparked with sudden bursts of melody.
go to album
StC Lives I: 51-61-74
by St Celfer™
Seattle’s St Celfer writes immersive electronic songs that encompass both haunting beauty & wild experimentalism.
go to album
Vintage-sounding synth music that recalls early Kraftwerk fills the enveloping new LP from JOYFULTALK.
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Sep 10, 2013
go to album
Demos PT. 1 AUG-SEPT. 2023 - Sometimes They Can't Stay (ideas you love)
by (Liv).e
featured on Bandcamp Radio Mar 26, 2024
go to album
