1. |
Maxim
05:37
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Cities have their own glow
their light moves in changing ways
bold lines cross streets
Skylines shift as habits cede
strange markings, strange behaviours
Light, observing, it’s age unknown
its truth, chasing messages deceased
memory, place
lost amongst the shadows
of this marble ornate wilderness complete
The threads of past lives
ribbons and chimes
still visible from the rooftops
mirrored in glass
a refracted kiss
on this new year’s island,
barely afloat
the weight of luggage and time
If this glass was water, if this city was water
as it so often feels
then swim towards
fading kind
banished to the darkened yards
Share the truth of a city facade
so good at disguising pain
The arrogant possessor
may yet lose its stake
If drowning, let it drown
If falling, let it fall,
If breaking, let it break
If blinded, be it so
as this is the view of the world I know
The rest? Escape in half truth
Love in cities can be so cruel
Cruelty is to know your fingers,
cannot be touched
your memories and places
they get harder to find
Light, shadow, misshapen air
waits here observing
but so long observing,
in a city
that cannot remember its useful shape
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2. |
Surgical
04:16
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Fine gold thread
hangs light around your neck,
a weave of chains
that begs to be touched
it begs me to touch it
hoping contact with the things you crave
the worlds we create
may move us closer,
spare us the winter
Eyes wide
checked with the glance of rivals
Are you asking me to hold you
or telling me to leave?
Unsure, I cannot do either
My thoughts escape
to a place still, serene
without the noise or pressure of wants and fears
And here, I think how I want to think
I speak how I want to speak
I become that greater part of me
And yet I am alone
and as this world fades
all that’s left to feel
are bruised edges
Stone, marble, all hard surface
never softens, never cedes
always pushing, scarring
fighting for its place
What have I learnt?
I think about you
quick soft clothes under your hands
fine gold thread, so delicate
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3. |
Castling
04:19
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How quickly I feel the seas embrace
the shortest step engulfs my calves, beyond my waist
Waves press and retreat through the neat metallic cold
of the solitary beach
Rusted frames litter the land,
bold and broken,
dateless in their style
They held something,
formed something
took a position and stayed
Flashes of amber weave through the sky
So fleeting, I doubt they are real
If they were, I feel they could reawaken this heavy body,
stitched and seal grey
Freedoms I’ve yet to taste
Submerged wheels no longer turn
Hooks no longer take flesh
Lights no longer fill the distance
Creatures are blunted into sand
What still exists,
deception, magic?
Which way is stronger to lean?
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4. |
I Dream of Circles
08:40
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I dream of circles
they dance at dusk
they overlap, cascade,
they link and break
Forever they move
and forever they stay
Letters and characters
Numbers and marks
circles of tigers
slow moving tigers
some near, some unseen
in seance they creep
until they void the round
Through vaults they now roam
in corners they hold
guarding new circles as they unfold
chalk lines on curtains
fish drink dark oil
slow swells, clusters,
escapes that close
Blood fills the inflating heart
blood, more black than red
blood, like a stranger,
an unwanted guest
cards too warn to use.
Bright tiger tooth,
so bright against the moon
baited tiger tooth
waiting, hewn
Have you ever felt your blood was a stranger?
An unwanted guest
an emptiness awake inside your veins
That makes hollow your days
Have you ever felt yourself exposed
Naked, aghast for all to see?
A thing, angled bone, to be ridiculed
no longer in a human home
Candlelight of the waking world
flame dance bodies
sheen of black plastic, lacquer
Ribs, plinths
signs of false floors
wax crawls to the end
pulls heavy on the ledge
As clouds dreams gather
in rooms of no matter
no gravity, no floor
no taste or smell
Just a cold dread
of circles, of tigers
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5. |
Electric Prayer
04:22
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Five limbs curled inward
of this creature,
firm in its solitude
firm hard star
amongst the shell and bones
Soon to be awash in spray
spray of electric surf,
the white edge
the reviving drink it could not take
how cruel to see futures arrive too late
Seas, earth, for each, a home
break these ties and face death
Streams press soft lines through the sand
Under drift, starched canvass
and burned callouses of this dead star
Though fallen from the sky
Some life changes with ease
Viruses, AI, the fight forever to be first
Perhaps roots might grow out of the earth
and into the sky
a new type of growth,
realities need not hurt
Plateaus change
and rebuild each day
Creature, reshaped,
pressed flat, returned
Though never to be among the living
and never to be traveller again
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6. |
Attica
04:37
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The darkest most beautiful bruise
Spans the arms of years
perfect the spectrum, violet, rouge
horizons of deepest leather
Cut sides, mirrored oils
that flecks of yellow turn through
What emerges is to be seen
But I would guess
That without redress
it could put a person off breeding
A heart encased in plastic film
Is still a heart until it is no more
A single drum in some wild cavernous space
the music of love and hope
If you cannot hear it
and you're happy enough
to sit there watching images
of the strangulation of men and animals
then I would probably ask
If your case is packed
as it seems
you've already checked out
Fields of wild birds
thin legs, match smoke
run the silhouette of the sun
forever they run
The inside of a human tongue
no longer with its scream contained
no longer able to shout demands
Ghost teeth bite but leave no mark
airways filled with noxious gas
given the option
if I were the child
I would climb back into the womb
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7. |
Ten Month Winter
06:04
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Marked intentions
narrative paths
Screens that split across a heart
cities endure two types of night
and never shall they meet
Artificial hosts
to the daily dance
the ancient trap
the unused luck
of yesterdays never taken up
Where teeth loosen and drift
the cold strap
of malicious highs
tension creeps along this mile
Anxiety is the station
Its freight, human time
Years shunting hard miles,
all to power against unending tides
wild ships that never show their face
The quiet spectre,
in the night alive
forgotten trees, earthly treasures
cling to rivers opened
the vim and vigour on up high
observes another crop
another history that dies
This unending waste
on which we move
on which is overlaid
with amazing towers
tall escapes
Yet built on mulch,
soft sand, clay
footprints from which flowers stray
hoping they will never know
their roots, their shape
how the wind and world
coerced the way they face
Forever invisible
to never look up
In dampened twilights
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8. |
Inertia, Inertia!
03:30
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Vanishing Manchester, UK
Based in Manchester, Gareth Smith is an artist and ex-engineer from Hull. Smith assembles music that reflects these
industrial roots. Words are his raw material; storytelling, communication that is created, assembled, and reworked until meaning and purpose is found
He creates music, movement pieces and film to help shape a story, using a shifting cast of collaborators, changing with each project
... more
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