Shanties

"never to rise"

Half mast to the past
Beneath the sea there was
Not a feast but a fast
Don't cast there because

To look back is to drown
For the lack of the sound
Of the songs whose words are most true.

So meet beneath the harbour tree
To greet and bequeath most ardently
To the bird who longs so dearly to host you.

Not a fast but a feast
Would burn such a beast
As the one I see inside of your eyes.

The last and the least
Will turn from the east
And the sun will be

never to rise.
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"rhymes with" - a fiddle and drum.

I'm not afraid of the orange fiddle rhyme.
I'll give you three or four in just a little time.
Come and shut the door, ingest a little wine.
Have a little more, in gin it tastes just fine.  Because !

I'm not afraid of the orange fiddle rhyme.

I am the poet who loves the letter X.
That xylophone
Was a pile of old bone
But the dancers loved it's hex.

So why do we condone
All the broken down tones
Of this orange fiddle sex?

With the high low moans,
Some erogenous zones
And foreign jest effects ?  Because !

... everybody loves the orange fiddle rhyme ...

and I'll give you three or four in ...

! Just a little time !
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"the pounding"

the pounding
and pounding
and fates
resounding
and Damn
the world
for being
so ! Round !

i found
the sound
that broke
the ground
so hallowed ...
with no
remorse

...

of course,
flat worlds
are sallow now ...

be monsters in shallows no more

be Found !

! So Hallow and twist
and bind
the wrist
the mist
is guarding the shore ...


... deplore no more the following lore :

the floor is just
another old door
each step a decision be made in precision, the ground
is just
the drummer sound
each echo a vision a lost acquisition, no more will be found
to score the next round
and i will be pounding and ! Pounding !
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"Resounding"

Shrouded in sound ...

Cacophonous pounding surrounding the birth of our highest beliefs.
The grinder's reminder to be a truth finder, our souls ...

To keep
Just as we sleep.

But when did we wake
And then bid to make

Forsake
And fake
Our souls
To take ?

Descending the stairs
On shoes worn in pairs
Remembering dares ...
Forgetting affairs ... 

The mares of the east
Will ride to the west
And all our beliefs

Will face

Their test

Resounding.
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"glass" - a 3/4 shanty.

Sweet madness in words ...
The bird that I've heard ...
She's covered in glass and she's found me at last !

I'm broken and torn with no shred left forlorn
no teacher she preached to me ever her reached you see, Shards ...

Of glass !

Will always protect her, regards ...
Of masque
Will never infect her, her mind is sweet Madness no teacher can teach her no preacher can reach her prevail or beseech her while Bards ...

! Alas !

They wrongly project her and fools ...
Do think
She needs a protector, her Name is just Madness her Song bears no Sadness and She is the bird
I have finally heard ...

! And now i am Covered in Glass !
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"the conspiring fires" - a heavy drum
(female lead, four man shanty chorus)

Mangled and tangled the tales
of myth
and tellings of days
so bold.

Frazzled and dazzled today we are lost
because
our hearts
grew cold.

So dance, we will dance, we will dance
unto
the fire in ire that we
were sold

- to only disguise
- and act too surprised
- when reasons we cherish one day grow too old !

So dance, we will dance, we will dance
and dance
and dance
unto
the fire ...

- bold and cold we sold our soul
- just as the buyer conspired

Dance, we will dance, we will dance
and dance
and dance
unto
the fire ...

- rolled in gold and reasons grown old
- the fire grew higher and fed our desire

So dance, we did dance, we did dance
and dance
we danced
into
that fire ...

- bold and cold we sold our soul
- just as the buyer conspired.
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"the map"

sacreligion

a pigeon

ancestor of dove

high above
the decision
called sac-
re-
ligion

no myth was a word
that bird wasn't heard
absurd
to think
we could drink of that drink

our link to the past
lies
not in it's cast
it's
sinking too fast
your
thinking comes last

half
mast to the past
how fast
it was

so !

grab your damned
bucket start
bailing and just fuck it !

i'm sailing and you're wailing and my senses you're assailing while you're failing the test
that was put to the rest

so bereft
and deft
we did dance
with death
and
now your sweet
towers
are
conquered by
! flowers !

the power that Be !
has set herself
free and i just Love
her decision

called sac-
re-
ligion.
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"silence" - a closing stomp.

compliant in silence, defiant in sound
in sleep we are meek, but awake

! Profound !

So crown
The Hound !
This is the last Round !
The hair of the dog will put hair on your chest ...

Gog and Magog would attest to the rest
! But accordion players were all we had left !

So bereft 
And deft
We danced 
With death
Until our last breath
 
Was ! Silence !