Littlest Seed Man

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Dear Esther

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Dancing Lost in Happy Sadness (1st draft)

In coils of smoke my dreams were lost

But I was young,

Young and lost

So let me off

Let me fall

Let me go

Let me fade into the pools of grey dreams.

No way back.  Once young never again.

So that was it.

That's how I saw it, that evening, standing alone with a stranded dead thing we call hope.

And up it all went, as fast as a frightened bird

In the vast columns of smoke where my dreams did die.

But I keep trying to dance, glass in my hand 

With a gap on my face as fake as space.

Off I go, with the smoke still coiling in my mind.

Glass in hand, I blink and a lifetime goes by,

and yet I still see the pillars of smoke, 

flying high, moving as fast as a bird on wary wings,

For there in the hateful grey coils my dreams did die.

Time won't let it go:

But I will walk the road, like all the others have done before,

and there I will be standing, glass in hand,

Fully awake for once and thinking of the day my dreams died

In the coils of smoke, 

Time would eventually teach me it was the end of things,

The day my dreams vanished into the sky,

As birds do fly,

And on these fleeting wings

My dreams did die.

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Forgotten Generation 83 (1st draft)

Forgotten Generation 83

_______________________

When the time comes, will they think of us?

will they think of you?

I say nay - 

and again I must say - 

It's a foolish persons thought,

that anyone who has ever been taught,

in the cryptic way,

 we display,

our pitiful lives

That there is hope beyond a thought,

That hasn't been outright bought,

As time stands distraught,

We stand back in dismay,

As we are bought and sold, 

born untold:

Monard Benigh...

They didn't speak,

they didn't think,

They didn't want

they didn't stop:

Monard Benigh

We were conceived

without reprieve,

Monard benigh

I wouldn't know

what the world bestows,

Monard Benigh

It's just a joke,

Because we are stuck in this yoke

Monard Benigh

Monard Benigh

Why are we drifting in this silly game,

Where no one really cares,

Monard Benigh

Let go

Just don't let it be so

Monard Benigh..

--

It's all dark and strange,

Makes no sense

Makes no sense

If you can let it go

then let it go

Let it go...

Who am I?

  Who are we?

Did they ever give us a name 

BUt they placed us in a quiet corner,

In a shadowy space,

Far from the open air - 

with walls closing in,

They drink, they smoke, they whisper muffled words,

The ghosts look at them and sigh - 

What men have we bred - 

What jokers strut the stage - Scotch Play thank thee - 

Golden words of long ago - 

The warrior race long sleeping in a nice and folded memory

Let them drink - let them drink - 

What do they care?

  It's only up to us to care

As we carry the anvil of the world on our backs...

--

I think of you, when the skies are blue, 

Monard Benigh.

Why don't they say

The price we'd pay,

Monard Benigh

Monard Benigh

When I think of you, in the summer dew 

Monard Benigh

It doesn't seem real - up with the lifetime reel,

Monard Benigh

--

So it seemed I was here to stay

Didn't have a lot to say

How could I ever have been 

So Happy

Forgotten Generation

We were of the Forgotten Generation

We are the forgotten generation

Was it a mistake?

Did we ever fake

Our lives so true?

Don't you task me

When I am free

Monard Benigh

--

I think of you, when the skies are blue, 

Monard Benigh.

Why don't they say

The price we'd pay,

Monard Benigh

When I think of you, in the summer dew 

Monard Benigh

It doesn't seem real - up with the lifetime reel,

Monard Benigh

--

I walked with my back bent low

I had nothing to show

They said this way and that

And I had nothing to say in that

This game they made for me

This pre-planned destiny

(serious chorus)

It was an empty hole

But they sold me all

Yes

Monard Benigh

They made me work for pence

at my mere expense

Monard Benigh

Monard Benigh

For them it was a joke

Made by a sick messed up folk

Monard Benigh

- - 

I go by like a strange sound that is

never heard

except by a hundred ears,

through the passing of years

and who cares?

Whoever cares?

Except you - maybe you.

LET’S BE HONEST…

But as hard as it seems

if we have to be

something more

than just a dream

If we are to live the dream…

Be that odd thing again

that thing from youth;

But we know in our hearts that

tattered hoof,

has trotted its last - 

in the old sand

Reshape the thing

You have always lived within,

It’s like making glass out of sand.

——

Then I saw the skies

With my real life eyes

What a demise

Monard Benigh

It was more than a dream

How all shiny it all seemed,

Monard Benigh.

——

Time does it’s thing,

Either for or against; 

It has its whims,

It choses certain things,

But I digress.

We are in a game

and its rules are insane,

and we all play the same…

Monard Benigh…

I try to turn away,

but the road won’t sway,

I ask it why?

Monard Benigh

We are all stuck too,

the same old Tune,

Monard Benigh…

——

I won’t be

And You wont be

The hand that rings the bell in the sky

I won’t be shining the lights on the hills up high,

or build the road other eyes will see

and many feet will follow,

My voice will melt like the snow

You will not hear me, like you do not hear the wind blow,

by some far out creak,

or in the depths of time.

Because we are forgotten

Forgotten.

Yes, we are forgotten,

The Forgotten generation.

We are the Forgotten generation.

We are, the lost,

The Lost generation,

We are the forgotten generation

83

Lost and forgotten,

The forgotten Generation.

They left us,

Retreated like the seas,

fleeing from the beach

without reach

no hand was offered to lift us up,

no soft words to soften the stone from which our hearts were wrought,

Cast like a bottle into the depths

left to float,

float,

while others young and old gloat,

We vanish into the skies, neither rising or falling, 

We just float, like dust in the wind - 

Because we are forgotten

Forgotten.

Yes, we are forgotten,

The Forgotten generation.

We are the Forgotten generation.

We are, the lost,

The Lost generation,

We are the forgotten generation

83

Lost and forgotten,

The forgotten Generation.

——

I didn’t realise how,

How bright my eyes once were - 

Before the curtains closed

Monard Benigh

And Now it’s too late

to reopen the gate

and turn back time

Monard Benigh

I have made my path

It’s been set for me,

A forgotten memory

Monard Benigh

Monard Benigh

Maybe that is the best for me

Happy and free

Gone with it all Monard Benigh

—-

Dust in the wind

stars burning dead a million miles away

yet flowers lift their heads

the dance is real

it’s real

live it

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Night Time is my time ...

Night Time is my time ...

Said the voice in the wind

My finest friend.

How lovely your mind shinned.

As you used to wait for me on my windowsill,

And in the dews linger still,

Reminding me of the dreams that time so desired I forget.

You remind me of the perfect sleep,

While I lay full awake,

In your dark coils, in your dark beams, in your vast expanse that flows into and beyond space: you are the most wonderful thing.

You are beyond all things for you last forever beyond eyes where time dances.

I think of you while I sleep, and you are with me when I am awake, 

The night is my cloak, my blanket and my flaming hearth to warm my limbs.

You are my best friend, said the voice in the wind,

As the voice called me to the windowsill,

I see the stars still, with you they stand,

Aflammed over the hills.

And in the silver spots of the dragons scales my thoughts wonder,

I had not realised I was alive till I witnessed the veil before the wind, the breath that breathed in the wild, where the world snapped together and became one.  In the silence of your slumber I have never felt more alive.

I miss you when you are gone.  The harp in my heart plays a song for you.  

It always plays.  There is always a song in my hope for thee - night: it waits for you, and for the voice in the wind, as I lean and watch out by my windowsill.

And maybe there will come a moment still, where we might meet rise, and walk amid the fields above the skies, and name the stars, one by one, as we go and build our home in the beams of time.

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Order

 For there is in all things that sing,

A strange sort of order to things,

Even in a river, 

Even in veins where the liquid flows,

There is a race 

There is a dance

There is a calm in which all things wait and a storm where all things run, 

But does the liquid flow and leap?

That is the question?

Why do you breathe?  Why do you love?  Why do you condemn the man you have never seen?

Why do your eyes full of so many colours?

Why do you see so many vibrant things?  

When you live does the world live?

When you die does the world die?

When you close your eyes to sleep do the clouds stop moving?  Will the flowers never open again?  Will the nightingale ever sing again as the stars burn in the deep depths out of the reach of time?

  

Does the clock stop ticking?

When did its hands start moving?

Was there a time when it was first pushed into moving?

Or has it always turned?  Was it turning before the first star opened its eyes?  Was it turning before the seas came roaring out of the cracks of the earth?  When the first raindrop fell?  When the first stem of green grass slithered out of the earth?

  

When did the first lightning strike?  What did it look like?  Was it greater than anything ever seen before?  Did it transform the darkness into light?  Was the first song song after it had finished its journey to the ground?

Was that when the laws were born?  

Was that when we started to say this was right and that was wrong?

Did it happen then when the light and the rain were covering the deserts of the world - the deepest desert where no foot has ever fallen or no voice has ever spoken, a place so deep and distant no living eye has ever witnessed it?  Do we hear the soft wind whistling around the rocks?  

Or is the desert as meaningless as the rocks on the moon, as the molecules inside a star, as the dreams of a dying man who has never been able to speak.  

Is it as meaningless as the hands that move on a watch?

  

Or is it as brilliant as a wildflower - hidden in the green depths, never seen by a human eye?

You decide?

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Tree in my vein

 In pain the tree in my veins droops,

and out of the arms grows the fruit,

And in the light of the fruit, the pain stays.

And in the lustre of the gleaming dews of the fruit I smell the joy that has died

sank into the ground with the waves of mist

But in the gleams of your dews I remember you - fleeting sparkle of light flying beside the body of a forgotten moon,

And it stirs in me the memory, a thunderbolt that can crack mountains,

And I hope to see the gleam still, forever, even when the fruit rots

Even when it rots.

Even when I know it's over,

I hope to see the moonbeam that shone so brightly,

over the pain in my veins, where the tree that grows still droops,

With its dying limbs of rotten fruit.

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I remember the face

I remember this face looking at me

It smiled at me long ago

It smiles at me today

It smiles through time - it shimmers in the liquid

The pool shakes - and out of the ripples - towards the edge, the smiles grows

The smile grows across the path of time

And it cuts my soul like shattered glass

As the pool is broken, with an angry fist

The smile shakes, as it breaks

But it's never gone - for the liquid always flows and grows.

And so the smile remains, and my pain regains

it's reigns 

Over my heaving heart - as it heaves, and shakes, broken as the waves of the sea.

You can see it shaking, eternally, the sea, under a sky full of stars,  

stars that gleamed like the eyes that sailed the smile, 

The smile that time never breaks

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What do you do when you mess up?

What do you do when you mess up?

What to do if you've ruined everything?

Go back go back go back?

Live in dreams

For in dreams we can find the past

And in the past we can change our dreams 

In the past we make dreams

And in the past we live

And create the future

We create the future

We create the future in the past...

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There is no such thing as time (Short film)

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Get the Legend of Rudwin!

Say NO to the Machine!

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