Exile's Giddy Approach

Lahoon is I
Lahoon I am

Once blind
Now I see

And grief
And grieving
I am

And grieving
I no longer believe

In the Promise
Of the Lords
Of the Tower
Of the Stones

In the Hopes
Of the Lords
Of the Tower
Of the Stones

Still I am in their throws
Fealty
Complete
And gross

My father
In their hands
His own hands
Torn from their bones

To be a thrall
Is all

The height
Of love
Is dying
For a cause

No!

Still so I am Dumb
A pantomime show
Swirling, drugged clean
Alone
My clan
Of one Torn
I am Slow
A pantomime show
A dumbshow! Look
Damn you all there behind me! Look
this streak of white – my face
painted
is a pale-ghost
shadow
with blood upon my cheeks
and one eye
where ought be three

Swimming I, as high as the angels’ on the head of a pin
For I heard that many angels must fit there
As great bullcock workers fit in stalls and shackles
And cubes and positions of sale
And squealing the wail
Upon the wind they wail
For nothing
For nothing at all
Oh yes I heard that many angels must indeed
swirl too over my pulpy head!
As clans fit in swirling bytes and bytes of blood
Like rain they draw the blood
Like fire the draw the mud
Up from the earth
And into veins
Then drain they
Verses of
strange refrain
all in vain

all in vain

For “Science”
sweet Lord
Is a God
Krishna, Krishna
The Bull is Up
The Bull is Down
Thinking mind
The left
The right
The bend
The tide
And Nature
Is our Bride
newfound

A whore
She gives it all
And charges
Nothing
Till she tears us down
Slow
Entropic
Clown

I am no longer myself
And no

I’m not all right

And no
Everything isn’t fine

Lahoon I am
Lahoon am I

We are all famous
Like those angels swimming, wisely afloat
Who needs must moan
Touching
For angels that close
Must touch
Unblushing
For angels too desire
Must touch

I am Mind
With a diamond
for an extra eye
where ought be three
two have died

But one
Enough

Still throbs
It does! It glows
Shadow
And grows
Lines Outward
Untouched

This line creates a tree!
This line, a barren field
This one, a gravesite
This one, a shield
Upon a brickgate sealed

And there the Gatekeeping Man
Stands, halberd in hands
And a cell phone to his ear

Speaking sweet nothings
To nobody
And nobody’s there to here

Oh to stand here!
A free man now
Free from tyranny
And cast out into the woods
To find the Sorcerer
To kill the Enemy!
What glee
What giddy giddy glee
There is in me

One foot the next
To walk and walking
Stand
One foot and again
The grave and the stand
To approach the Gatekeeping Man

Lahoon is I
Lahoon I am
Oh loathsome
Oh swimming! fear, great State
great Tower’s land
Behind

A stink on our knees
But still we bend
A king that won’t bleed
But still we’ll bend

The offensive rattles of a cage
You don’t see
Shake them, I shake them
With each step a thorn
I come to believe –
My separateness is wrought
from the woes of belief

Lahoon I am
And leaving
I grieve

Grieving
I cease to believe

Read the Lyric from the Beginning