more speed-written songsheets...
Jim Bellamy's portrait-image of the late great poet-songwriter-musician-peformer Marc Bolan circa 1972.
SPATIAL SUMMER 1 (by jim bellamy)
Spatial summer - led ded asteroids collide & bruise: a comae on a fender,
like ashen love, our vehicle lords disprove. Set red beneath the hashpipe
- a sigma seance - the ghasted
gods conceive: spatial summer - like
wicked truth, the ark of death deceives. Demnotic mumma, semen drummer,
when once the ghost began, what news?
In which angled park of angels; beneath which road did time confuse?
Under dicta,
under spanish fervour,
which the sword of light
that carries us back home.
Spatial summer, sunder, thunder; dogdayed rite, which way love's dome?
Spatial, the sickle, first purdah ghost of israel; spatial, the number,
the cretaceous hero's war; spatial, stained suckotash, skein of
ultraviolet; spatial, adolf stickla, the scream behind the maw.
Spatial, demeter, ruined ruby of red sacrifice; spatial, the void, the
glove-gleamed scent of hero's death;
spatial, the winter, the staining
artifice of emptiness; spatial, spatial sumner, doom deriver in the fuse
of breath.
Whispered acritudes in ferment, such are the fusions love can't keep: sat
in churches full of eagles, led ded
as summer, death dements our sleep.
Sapt at veinmost, thundered under metal, scarlet under sadness, our
laughing heroes wail. Like a womb-tomb ghostling, burned where birth is
madness, a knifeling in a rumour, this spatial summer rails.
Spatial summer, drummer, sunder, thunder - slammed in hatred's hand, the
Freudian chieftan rules: sirened under mania, in a bonded state of
failure, under dreams of empty hallways, hallucination spools.
Spatial is
our fusion,
spatial, our confusion: spatial, sickness summons; in petrol
pools, we hear light's flame:
spatial is our rumour, the coming of all humour:
spatial, our cloven vestuaries, our schemings under rain.
Licking the phallic towers, coming
down from dementia,
our spatial drum, denied in beats of maternitizing scream, like the
druggard gut round the heart of the sun, dignifies the ghoul in the pastel
wards obscene;
slitting wrists of powder, letting no ghost go.
Spatial summer, drummer, sunder, thunder: slammed in hatred's hand, our
summer truths forego.
Spatial, the sickle, first locker ghost in scarlet;
spatial, the number, the cretaceous hero's war; spatial, drained
suckotash, skein
of ultraviolet; spatial, adolf stickla, the dream behind
the maw.
Spatial, demeter, ruined ruby of red sacrifice; spatial, the void, the
love-lamed scent of hero's death; spatial, the summer, the staining
edifice of emptiness;
spatial summer, doom deriver - led ded fission under breath.
Spatial summer, zero thunder, spatial, spatial summer:
spatial summer, delusion; fusion sunderer,
spatial, spatial summer.
*
jim bellamy has written 1,000 songs!
MEADOW BABY LOGIC (by jim bellamy)
Meadow baby logic, madam hypnogogic: baby, lady, Sexy Sadie's rocket; for
these bad fruits, I rail & sail into a century of masochistic sockets; &
then the shogun berry rolls, rocks & rolls
adown my pickled chin, & meadow
baby is Sexy Sadie & Sexy Sadie sires me a meadow wind, & meadow is mellow
& meadow is yellow & meadow baby logic is a chinless halo, & meadow baby
is Sexy Sadie & Sexy Sadie
is meadow baby king.
Meadow baby logic, madam hypnogogic: baby, lady, Sexy Sadie's rocket;
gorillas going sonic are the sermons in a bonnet, & meadow baby,
crabber-locker lady, is pornographic sonnet to the sea, & pornographic
sonnet is a rocket going sonic & rocket going sonic is a mad oak tree, &
Sexy Sadie is crabber-locker lady & crabber-locker lady is meadow baby
spring & crabber-locker springtime spreads its wings.
Meadow baby logic,
pornographic sonnet: baby, lady, crabber-lock laconic;
if I take me to a dance, shall the crabber-lockers rave; if I take me all
a prance, shall a crabber lock my grave? & if Sexy Sadie ain't meadow
baby, might the crabber-locker lady
cry? & if meadow baby ain't Sexy
Sadie, might the crabber-lockers reach the sky? & if meadow baby ain't a
crabber-locker lady, where the hell might Sadie fly?
Meadow baby logic, crabber-lock bubonic: sonic, sonnet, proof-reading
in a
bonnet: Sexy Sadie, crabber-locker baby, sonic, sonnet, crabber-locker
tonic: if the meadow flies, shall the meadow maidens rise, or shall meadow
mellow eyes come tumbling from the skies? For a meadow is mellow & mellow
is halo & halo is as mellow as a yellow blade of grass, & meadow is halo &
meadow baby yellow is Sex Shakespearo & Shakespearo under glass is meadow
baby logic, is the hypnogogic past.
ASLEEP AT THE WHEEL (by jim bellamy)
I've been driving all day long, I've been driving past all wrong: tell my
wife I won't be long. Asleep at the wheel, Asleep at the wheel.
I've been
driving home to you, I've been driving wheels of blue: save my life, for
now I'm through. Asleep at the wheel, Asleep at the wheel.
At the wheel,
time's timeless cell sees into you as roadways pass, sees into you, as
dead motels empty their pities into the past.
Asleep at the wheel, I
hardly
dare suffer enough for God this day: as I go through gears &
tunnels, I return to no true fray.
Asleep at the wheel, Asleep at the
wheel, Asleep at the wheel, Asleep at the wheel.
I prefer telephone to
home, pendant home,
telephone: tell my wife I'm all alone.
Asleep at the
wheel, Asleep at the wheel, Asleep at the wheel, Asleep at the wheel,
Asleep at the wheel, Asleep at the wheel, Asleep at the wheel.
goodbye son?
SPATIAL SUMMER 2
(by jim bellamy)
Spatial summer, spherical azure void:
in the screams of endless thunder,
time's red asteroid,
like a scarlet sickle rumour, lams aside the sun:
like a womb of endless number, the tomb within us drums.
Moon, dawn opus,
forest forge of metal heroes:
deep in dogday crucifix, the ark of summer burns;
like a tauran epitaph, with destruction slit in mind,
under domes of lightning, the dreams of summer grind.
Coda lantern,
language in denial -
light, what for the hearse of God?
In which room of leather, under which dark wing of tides,
beneath which summer river, does the dark avenger ride?
Spatial summer, stabbing force of
fuse inside the head:
wind swiper, sweeping softly, how now shall recusancy tread:
what for the metal peeples, the hedoned herods under glass:
what for steepled injun stones,
what for bones beneath the vast?
I am the one who opened the sun, I
am the one
who opened the moon,
I am the one who opened the tongue,
I am the one who opened the womb,
I am the one with eyes on empty,
I am the one with zen-tithed skin,
I am the one with eyes on enemy,
I am
the one with lizard sin,
I am the one with snake-skin sentries,
I am the one with snake devise,
I am the one with
the no. on my casket,
I am the one with
rattlesnake eyes.
Spatial summer, endless sunderer,
thunder rumba queen, come lend me penury,
shend away the spheres behind all wonder,
thunder rumba queen, come lend me century;
rend away the asp, the Abaddon sheet,
rend, shend, bend; burn the summer from
my meat.
I am destruction, a circuit circus
turning endless:
I am seduction, the bud of Oedipal demise:
777 is the no. on the transept, 777 is the no. on the sun,
777 is the no. on the signet, 777 is the no. on the gun,
777 is the
no. on the magnet, 777, magenta blood is all,
777, the snake of ashen conflict: 777, the serpent thunder
on the crawl.
No more for news, no more for blues,
no more for vendors on the rise,
no more for news, no more for clues,
no more the summer in disguise:
no more the idol empty,
no more the graveward mind,
no more the angel emery,
no more the razors
in God's spine.
I am the sun, the Cimmerian guardian:
through doors of gold,
my haloes razed away:
I am the one, the Cimmerian guardian:
through doors of gold, my heroes broke away.
End, crucifixion, the lizard in
the nave of death,
end, crucifixion, the lizard in
the nave of breath,
end, crucifixion, the lizard in
the nave of tears,
end, crucifiction, the lizard of
the graveward spheres.
Spatial summer, here today,
gone like sorrow's number:
like a cobra in a cave, the tiger's guile
destroys
love's thunder;
like a river full of fusion, the spatial summer's
a fist in bud
spatial, spatial, spatial summer,
gone away like hero's love.
spatial, spatial, spatial summer,
gone away like Hero's love.
..
copyright jdb 1999.
..
and the anemones weave - in the very middling centre of a cave at sea -
mister mephistopheles sits down for tea.
set to, and the lamplight's motion is lighting the blue, and from the
middle of thunder come the guests to be, where mister mephistopheles sits
down for tea. and here there are potions and purple pomades, and songbirds
and dovebirds and fashionable raves, and here too are sermons and songs in
high key, where mister mephistopheles sits down for tea.
rainbow, at the end of the night, inside the other side, within the
smoking of a pipe - in the centre of a notion, in the middle of a plea -
mister mephistopheles sits down for tea.
midnight coach, and the best of the men wear a scarlet broach, and the
best of the hens wear a shaman's beads, when mister mephistopheles sits
down for tea. and when the evening's at an end, hellfire burns, and the
selling of a soul is all that's earned - and the hellfire burns and the
hellfire flees - where mister mephistopheles sits down for tea.
and if you
should wonder whose teacups glint, then look no further than the eyelid's
blink, and look no further than the fathomless sea - the haunt of mister
mephistopheles...
C/O BLIND DREAMS (after T Rex)
Yellow mellow custard colonel, mellow yellow bustard dog, purple strangers
spy on mangers, mellow masons yield red hods: in the singlet, under
hammer, beneath the gauntlet of a gun, mellow yellow is the fellow to the
spermazotic sun. Here is the Buddha Cat: a Buddha Cat has fifty lives:
here is the Buddha Cat: a Buddha Cat lives in a hive. Mellow is the yellow
halo, yellow is the bell of praise: under thunder, snapt from tundra,
mellow metal flumes the blaze: purple rangers spy on strangers, mellow
myrtle is the sky: under thunder, snapt from tundra, darkness spumes &
fusion dies. Here is the Buddha Cat: a Buddha Cat has fifty lives: here is
the Buddha Cat: a Buddha Cat lives in a hive. Yellow come the eyes of
empty, empty strikes the dollar que: deep in signal skeins of plenty,
mellow metal summons dew: in the anvilnooks of madness, down from
graveward skies, all love, like some manna man of sadness, scatters seed
on heaven's rug. Here is the Buddha Cat: a Buddha Cat has fifty lives:
here is the Buddha Cat: a Buddha Cat lives in a hive: here is the Buddha
Cat; a Buddha Cat is Jesus Christ: here is the Buddha Cat; a Buddha Cat is
Jesus Christ.
Word of dementia; heard it on the
underground: web word summer, sickness
from an undersound: set in gusset bleeding, like a madam madman on the
run; word of
dementia, word I hear deny the Son. Word of destruction;
injected it from heroine: web word winter, sensed the sickness coming in:
set in gusset bleeding, like a madam madman burning; word of destruction,
word of madness spurning. Web word, dirt word - Dr. Dedly, hear my song:
dirt word, web word - Dr. Dedly, do some wrong: searching under oil
slicks, with master mucus moons away: web word, dirt word - Dr. Dedly,
hear me pray. Syringe skin meserschmit, zero halo under skin; as we find
our Onan Christs, failing on, we demean: raping merkin maidens, with U.S.
Kings aside to all, web word, dirt word: Dr. Dedly, hear me fall. Suffer?
Ever so, dead friend: suffer? why not greet the end; why not make it with
your ID; slit the sun & maim the squid? Why not maim Leviathan, why not
make the sea things come? Suffer? Ever so, dead friend: suffer? why not
greet the end. Web word, dirt word, Dr. Dedly, hear my song: web word,
dirt word, Dr. Dedly, do some wrong: searching under oil slicks, with
master mucus moons away; web word, dirt word, Dr. Dedly, greet decay.
She's a filthy sweet priest, woman going East: she's a filthy sweet
priest, woman going East: she's in touch with the nature of the Beast:
she's a filthy sweet priest, woman going East. She swings the stars, she
knows God's name: she's got the universe reclining in her veins; & she is
sure & she is hard: she's got the universe dictating like a bard. She's a
filthy sweet priest, woman going East: she's a filthy sweet priest, woman
going East: she's in touch with the nature of the Beast: she's a filthy
sweet priest, woman going East. She wears a bow, she wears a chain: she's
got the universe reclining in her veins; & she is pure & she is all: she's
got the universe dictating like a pall. She's a filthy sweet priest, woman
going East: she's a filthy sweet priest, woman going East: she's in touch
with the nature of the Beast: she's a filthy sweet priest, woman going
East.She owns the sun, she owns the moon: she's got the universe reclining
in her womb; & she is sure & she is plain: she's got the universe
dictating like a brain. She's a filthy sweet priest, woman going East:
she's a filthy sweet priest, woman guru feast: she's in touch with the
nature of the Beast: she's a filthy sweet priest, woman going East; she's
a wander lust leech: swiped woman, join the fucking feast....
o-lah!
IN THE BEGINNING (after Dylan Thomas)
in the
beginning of poetry's mallow, from first to last, the climbing face
fawked across the skies laid fallow; one shower of motion sired the waste;
and, like cyphers in conjunction, earth and fire mixed as they raced.
in the beginning of poetry's barrow, syllabic and starry as a tarry smile,
from the births and heirs of mallow, round the heavens span the child;
rhyme and tide sent forth their rangers and the tunes of madness rained.
in the beginning was music's centaur;
before and
after was the coptic vein.
in the beginning of poetry's swallow that set alight the sparring spark,
time and tide sent forth their fellow and the moons of magmas ark,
shining where all seas lay narrow, wired the jaws of jesu's art.
in the beginning was the whorl of words which, from sky-slit aces, spiked;
and the sovereigns and the birds of squiring music, skewered
and ripe,
flew and banged against rhyme's panic, and then came the moaning pipe.
in the beginning of poetry and after; in the misgivings of the secret
brain,
rhyme and tide sent forth their rangers and the
tunes of madness reigned.
in the beginning was music's centaur;
before and
after was the optic train...
..
Copyright jedb 1999.
...