{"id":844,"date":"2013-04-20T18:16:04","date_gmt":"2013-04-20T16:16:04","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/?page_id=844"},"modified":"2013-05-03T02:23:05","modified_gmt":"2013-05-03T00:23:05","slug":"20-roaring-forties","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/teksty\/teksty-oryginalne\/teksty-ph-solo\/20-roaring-forties\/","title":{"rendered":"20. Roaring Forties"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>
\nSharply Unclear<\/strong><\/p>\n

You’ve never shown a trace of human frailty,
\nNo-one could ever catch you on the hop:
\nEach post-modern take on the action
\nwould find you
\nalready, in principle, totally hot,
\nall self-referential commentary
\nand a marketing man’s sense of talk shop.<\/p>\n

The sharper the image you cut
\nthe more you seem unreal;
\nso sharp you could cut yourself,
\ntransparently ideal.<\/p>\n

We all know that hard-boiled look,
\nyou cooked it up to face down the stares;
\nI feel like I’m walking on eggshells around you,
\nas though you’re already no longer quite there.
\nYou acknowledge your trauma,
\nyour neurosis is stripped and laid bare.<\/p>\n

The sharper the image you cut
\nthe more you disappear;
\nso sharp you could cut yourself,
\nsomehow this transparency’s unclear.<\/p>\n

All the mirrors in your playroom,
\nthey twist your psycho-epidermis into shape.
\nNo doubt you emerged in your make-up believing
\nquite simply, believing that you’d got it taped
\nbut the vacancy you offered
\nis already a Cheshire Cat gape.<\/p>\n

The sharper the image you cut
\nthe more you disappeared;
\nso sharp you could cut yourself –
\nare you still really here?
\nAnd the sharper the image you cut
\nthe more you seemed a fake,
\nso sharp you could cut yourself,
\ntransparently opaque….
\nAnd the sharper the image you cut
\nthe less you seemed alive;
\nso sharp, but this open book’s
\ntransparently jive.<\/p>\n

You were so sharp you cut yourself,
\nso sharp you could cut yourself;
\nyou were so sharp you made yourself
\ntransparent
\nand transparently unclear.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nThe Gift of Fire<\/strong><\/p>\n

Like a wind in the wilderness
\nlike a swell on the ocean…
\nwould the spell be unbroken
\nif it was never phrased?<\/p>\n

She was always the precious child,
\nshe was always a strange one,
\na derangement runs deep down through her innocent gaze…..<\/p>\n

The gift of fire and the gift of tongues,
\nthe gift to see what Goddess Fortune held in store;
\npretty soon there were whisperings of witchcraft
\nfrom the couple next door.
\nShe had the gift of talk turkey,
\nthe gift of talk turkey.<\/p>\n

She had no message for the marketplace,
\nshe was inflamed by each moment,
\nshe had the silver spoon of soothsay for destiny.
\nShe was always coming on with
\nthe gift of fire and the gift of tongues;
\nfamily affair, it was a fortune that they’d got –
\npretty soon they were cooking up a story
\nfor the communal pot;
\non the prime time slot
\nthey shot the gift of talk turkey.<\/p>\n

Oh now she can’t stop talking about the way she sees it is
\nand she can’t stop talking about her prescience.
\nShe can’t stop talking, how dangerous that is
\nand she can’t stop talking, no, she can’t stop talking….<\/p>\n

It’s the curse of the fire and she’s burning up before us
\nin the talk of tongues, flames that lick around the dross;
\nthe gift of fire, if she’s burning up before us
\nit’s our communal loss,
\nthe inevitable cost
\nof the gift of talk turkey.<\/p>\n

What a windfall of wickedness
\nwhen truth gets warped to perversion;
\nin the official version
\nthey’ll always make it quite plain
\nwhat we’re really not meant to see.
\nThe gift of fire consumes all those who touch it
\nand the gift of tongues is always double-edged;
\nthey grew aware that she would take them to the ledge,
\nso pretty soon they were working up a story
\nabout the bets they could hedge.<\/p>\n

The gift of fire and the gift of tongues…
\nthey take her name and they grind it in the dust;
\nall at once they’ve got alibis to cover any possible bust
\nand she’s gagged, bound and trussed
\nby the gift of talk turkey.<\/p>\n

But she can’t stop talking, though her audience disappears
\nand she can’t stop talking about her prescience.
\nShe can’t stop talking, though she knows that no-one hears
\nshe can’t stop talking, she can’t stop talking,
\nshe can’t stop talking – how miraculous this is!
\nShe can’t stop talking, just like Bernadette.
\nShe can’t stop talking, how dangerous that is,
\nand she can’t stop talking, she can’t stop talking,
\nno, she can’t stop talking about the way she sees it is,
\nshe can’t stop talking, just like Joan of Arc.
\nShe can’t stop talking – man, how dangerous she is,
\nshe can’t stop talking,
\nshe can’t stop the gift of talk turkey,
\nthe gift of talk turkey.<\/p>\n

No, she can’t stop talking.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nYou Can’t Want What you Always Get (if you haven’t got it yet)<\/strong><\/p>\n

Give it a bit of hard on the rudder
\nhot on the heels of foot to the floor;
\nsetting your mind on one thing or the other,
\ndo you still find you’re
\nalways wanting something more?<\/p>\n

Yes, and the thing you want forever
\nis always the thing you can never have –
\nI want doesn’t get.<\/p>\n

Try out the line of „This is original”;
\nspin out the story: „This is brand new”;
\ngive a bit of „I never felt like this before”;
\ncut to the chase: „I only want you”.<\/p>\n

And the one you want forever
\nwill always be the one you can never have….<\/p>\n

I want
\ndoesn’t get<\/p>\n

(Here’s a message from the future
\nyou don’t have time to forget….
\nHere’s a message from the darkside:
\nbetter live with your regrets.)<\/p>\n

And the thing you want 's forever,
\nit’s always, the thing you can never have….
\nI want doesn’t get.<\/p>\n

Who was it told you you were the gifted one?
\nWho was it said that yours is the lucky star?
\nSomehow you’re always looking to shed your next skin,
\nalways too busy to be who and what you are.
\nStill the one you chase forever
\nturns into the one you can never have.<\/p>\n

I want
\ndoesn’t get<\/p>\n

(Here’s a message for your present
\nand there isn’t any catch:
\nbetter live the life you’re living,
\nno conditions are attached.) t<\/p>\n

You can’t live a life as constant acquisition;
\nyou’re missing the present,
\nalways looking to live in the future tense.
\nYou build up your hopes for Corpus Non Delicti….
\nThe crack of temples –
\nwho’re you going to sue for recompense
\nwhen the thing you want forever
\nwill always be the thing you could have had?<\/p>\n

I want just means I lack
\nbut I don’t want to turn the clock back.<\/p>\n

(Here’s a message from the future
\nthat you’d better not forget…..
\nHere’s a message from the darkside
\nbetter live with your regrets.
\nHere’s a message for the present
\nif you haven’t got it yet:
\nbetter live the life you’re living.)<\/p>\n

I want
\ndoesn’t get.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nA Headlong Stretch<\/strong><\/p>\n

i. Up Ahead<\/p>\n

Passage assured
\non the good ship Goodbye…
\ndare I raise up my eyes
\nto stare into the rigging?<\/p>\n

(Preparing to go\/come home..)<\/p>\n

All we could have done
\nwe’re at pains to explain
\nbut all our might in the main
\nis only empty promise
\nunfulfilled at last
\nstill no-one can be blamed
\nfor breaking daily bread,
\nthinking ahead.<\/p>\n

Blessed with strange grace
\nand reluctant to face
\nineluctable fate,
\nI say I saw the future
\nI said forget the past
\nbut I’ll not hear the last
\nof lives I’ve never led,
\nthinking ahead.<\/p>\n

ii. Continental Drift<\/p>\n

We make the beds in which we’ll stretch
\nin unconscious pre-planning;
\ntending and hedging our bets
\nthinking we’re thinking ahead.<\/p>\n

Out of the blue comes the given life,
\nout of the window volition.
\nIn small miracles, in constant reinvention
\nwe make sense of each current position.<\/p>\n

Every choice that we make, every trick that we turn up
\nappears in its principle sound.
\nYeh, we’re self-made men, masters of our destiny,
\nfree and unbound….<\/p>\n

In to the heart comes the brave new world
\nwhere we’re slaves to the strength of conviction…..
\nI believe decisions come like continents to conquer
\nlike I believe we’re no strangers to fiction.<\/p>\n

Every road that we take
\nmeans a journey rejected
\nwe pretend we can still have it all;
\nevery future we dream a virtual reality,
\nonly vanity still holds us enthralled
\nwhen the best laid plans of mice and men
\nall unravel in the judgement call.<\/p>\n

Pride still make us ride for a fall.<\/p>\n

Surely we look ripe for a fall,
\nsurely we look ripe for a fall;
\nmaybe we just ride for the fall.<\/p>\n

iii. The Twelve<\/p>\n

The jury’s out upon the matter
\nand they can barely bear to admit
\nthat all the time that we spend planning
\nin the end will matter not one whit.<\/p>\n

Though I’ve certainly considered
\nevery vital pro and con
\nI get no scent of an acquittal
\nI lose the drift… the signs are wrong.
\nWhat’s going on?<\/p>\n

(Twelve signs of the zodiac,
\ntwelve hours to face,
\nthe twelve disciples all aquiver,
\ntwelve arrows strike a twelve-tone case.)<\/p>\n

Round and round in repetition
\nof the flight from boredom into thrill
\nand all the time we’re waiting on the punchline,
\nthe hollow laugh within „we will’.<\/p>\n

What won’t we give to take up
\nthe turning over of a new leaf?
\nNo-one ever reaching future perfect;
\nbefore we know it, beyond belief
\nwe come to grief,
\nwe hit the reef.<\/p>\n

iv. Long Light<\/p>\n

Signs serial
\nadrift in the air
\nimmaterial
\nface up to the phosphor flare.<\/p>\n

Ghost essence
\nfuels fire in the rig;
\nincandescence
\nlet’s dance out the mystery jig.<\/p>\n

Jig,
\ndance the dance of mystery light,
\ndance the dance, jig,
\ndance the dance infernally bright.<\/p>\n

Dark water
\ndark fire down below…
\nstorm quarter
\ntime to dance out the mystery – no!<\/p>\n

The twelve will swing us to completeness
\nright from the cradle to the grave
\nand all our future projection’s
\nonly second guessing seventh waves….
\nA break in the connections
\nwe thought were built to last
\nhere’s a change in the weather,
\nTsunami time –
\nthe wave’s already rolling in towards us from the past.<\/p>\n

v. Backwards Man<\/p>\n

It’s only looking backwards
\nthat you retrace your hand,
\nit’s only in a moment of reversal
\nthat you can see where you stand…
\nease out, come through the film and through the mirror
\nwelcome the backwards man.<\/p>\n

Oh yes, the beach still stirs the ocean,
\nand soon the tide will turn the moon round
\nall is forgiven and all was foreseen –
\nall’s as it ever could be.<\/p>\n

Ends forced motive out of meaning
\nmeans all even out in the end;
\nretracing steps,
\nin the process you learn to stand,
\nlearn to walk again
\nso much gets forgotten, so much is forsworn
\nin retrospect.<\/p>\n

Did I really do that?
\nWas I ever so young?<\/p>\n

It’s here, looking backwards
\nthat you confront your own face
\nit’s only in such moments of reversal
\nthat you’re secure in place.
\nThrough the fire backwards
\nagain and again
\nreturn to base.<\/p>\n

vi. As You Were<\/p>\n

It’s some relief
\nto find the possible in store;
\nbeyond belief,
\nin overtime, I’m overboard…
\nuncharted waters, full fathom five,
\nthe future’s rising, it’s just arrived.<\/p>\n

It’s not the same
\nas I imagined it would be
\nbut there’s no blame
\nif every life’s imaginary.<\/p>\n

And if I get quite what I deserve
\nthat’ll end the sentence, the time I’ve served
\na full stop to the sentence….<\/p>\n

When it’s all done you willed the person you’ve become
\nin serious fun it’s as you were that you become
\nand so it’s done.<\/p>\n

vii. Or So I Said<\/p>\n

I saw the future
\nor so I said….
\nHow strange they seem,
\nthe lives I’ve never led,
\nthinking ahead.<\/p>\n

(I’m ready to come home….)<\/p>\n

So head on,
\nheadlong,
\nheadstrong.<\/p>\n

(I’m ready to go….)<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nYour Tall Ship<\/strong><\/p>\n

Far, so far away…
\nsurely you remember
\nlog book pages frayed
\nthat fanned the flames of long ago,
\nguttered in the grate,
\nshadows in the embers….
\nlook away, look for home.<\/p>\n

Voices on the air,
\nrunning with the current;
\nwind and tide set fair,
\nship to shore the message goes,
\nall in love is fair –
\nacross the raging torrent,
\nsail away, sail for home;
\nlook away, look for home.<\/p>\n

Land-locked lovers, landlub friends, in procession:
\nall rites of passage have an end.
\nLook away, sail away,
\nsail your tall ship home.<\/p>\n

We are ocean-borne,
\nfar from any harbour,
\nfrom our moorings torn,
\nghosts that fly for all we know….
\nturn to face the storm
\nthat’s building off to starboard,
\nsail away, sail for home,
\nlook away, look for home.<\/p>\n

Look away in the Roaring Forties.<\/p>\n

Land-locked lovers, littoral friends,
\nthe succession never ends….
\nthe spirit’s willing to carry on;
\nall rites of passage make us strong.<\/p>\n

Sail away,
\nsail away,
\nsail your tall ship home.<\/p>\n

\"Przewi\u0144<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Sharply Unclear You’ve never shown a trace of human frailty, No-one could ever catch you on the hop: Each post-modern take on the action would find you already, in principle, totally hot, all self-referential commentary and a marketing man’s sense … Czytaj dalej →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":659,"parent":519,"menu_order":20,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"sidebar-page.php","meta":{"_sitemap_exclude":false,"_sitemap_priority":"","_sitemap_frequency":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-844","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/844","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=844"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/844\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":846,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/844\/revisions\/846"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/519"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/659"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=844"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}