The
Giant Albion:
Nose,
chin, brow, craggy features face the great Atlantic
Back
arched north to south, strong as mountains, green as April
His round
belly a patchwork of heaths & fields, moors & marshes
Limbs
great limbs of old stone drawn forth from the ocean's floor
Ancient,
wise
No
little mad;
He’ll
test your senses, your sense of humour.
His
eyes; lakes, pools reflect all light
Sun
stars & moon
Meteors
& rainbows
Becks
& burns, streams & brooks his blood system
His
muscles, glacial clay
His
organs whole families of hills
His
folded potent skin
Scarred
& healed, scarred & healed,
Raddled
gnarly with life!
&
all form!
All
existences imagined virid green as his energetic song signature.
Mystery
forests are his crown, his beard his great hairy back
The
small hairs on his arms & belly soft pastures
Of
wild grasses & bread fields
All
filled with movement, song & diversity of form;
Legged
non legged many legged winged burrowing
Those
that swim, those that crawl,
Those
that dance in the morning, those who only awaken at night;
His
countless children, the inhabitants of the circle of Britannia.
But
forth comes Beelzebub
The
horizon demon, the lover of straight lines
Who
forged cruel wheels within his own heart
To
strengthen the grip of his iron razor-thorn hands
A man
of metal risen from the steaming deep
Where
the mare-of-night suckles her brood on shale gas,
Where
blind things feed upon one another until they explode.
He's
heavy with the lead weight tyranny of his fears
Moaning,
groaning, keening, roaring to control everything
Father
of the horde who see only with their fingers;
Takers,
tinkerers, the maniac engineers of reality
Who
worship only gravity.
Forth
comes Beelzebub, spewing reinforced concrete
Draught
excluders, light excluders
Hazing
sweet chemical perfumes to hide the plastic stink of the decay
beneath
His
company mountainous, rolling juggernauts of metal,
Robot
armies of the machine
Who
gather in the shadow of factory towers
Bellowing
heat to bake & burn.
Forth
comes Beelzebub clad in the armour of self righteousness
Deals
a body blow to the Giant Albion;
Winds
his limbs in chains of smoking steel
Stuns
him with meaningless words of clever power
Opens
a mouth like a mile wide cauldron
To
swallow bright waters into a world of culverts, tanks & drains.
His
machine shovel hands rake messy, tangled nature into tiny
reservations
His
designers take the ruler, the set square, the pixel grid to the axis
of life
Feast
fattening the parasites, too stupid to see the slaughter houses
Lined
up on rails jetting hungry steam, sharpening blades.
But
the Giant Albion is crazy wise
Great
tears of oily rain he cries
&
shakes with pain, longs for release
But
knows that this will never cease
Unless
he understands it.
&
the Giant Albion is crazy wise
He
sees the fear in his enemy’s eyes
&
gently tests the power there
While
in the forests of his hair
Birds
still serenade the sun.
The
Giant Albion is crazy wise
Not
a single bird can fall or rise
Hatch
or die that he does not know
He
sees wherever they come & go
&
loves them.
&
the Giant Albion is crazy wise
&
all his children of any size
Who
number millions throughout the land
Can
also come to understand
A
deeper power rules.
Crazy
wise Giant Albion & all his children raise up their voices &
sing
&
when they go to sleep they go to sleep & dream sweet
&
when they wake up they wake up & raise up their voices & sing
again
They
sing together the song of ancient life,
That
never had a beginning, nor can it end
They
sing together the song of ancient life,
That
love has always woven in our blood
From
oceans long ago in the heart wood of giant trees
A
state of innocence denied to no living thing
That
all may know & celebrate, but soon forget
When
they become afraid of fear or are hurt by pain.
It is
only thought that drives the wheel of Beelzebub's
Iron
cold heart of teeth upon teeth of endless revolution
A
single spark ignites the inevitable fuel leak
&
the Master of the World is just a black cloud on the horizon that hid
the sun for a moment
The Ruler of the Regulations is caught out by his own cleverness, he
lacked craft
The
Lord of Limitations reduced to a distant smear upon a vast &
stainless sky of sea
Not a
monster, nor a demon but a memory
Of
how things once were, & a warning of how they could become.
The
Giant Albion shakes off his chains & shouts thunder storms &
dawn choruses of joy
His
healing is in every step, his peace in every moment
His
lake pond puddle eyes reflect the endlessness of space
His
rocky highland shores make a smile upon his face
His
hairy tummy had a good harvest of oats, wheat, barley & rye
His
beard is inhabited by beavers.
The
Giant Albion has forests for hair & he is crazy wise
His
children share his appetite for the ridiculous & the sublime
We
sing & dance in merry glades & await the sun to rise
&
everyone who lives & moves, can learn the song, keep the time.
Sometimes
we circle from right to left, heart to heart & hand in hand
To
follow the sun & the seasons in their play
Sometimes
we circle from left to right a spiral across the land
To
place our feet on the ancient track, a hidden, hollow way.
The
Giant Albion has forests for hair & he is crazy wise
His
children share his appetite for the ridiculous & the sublime
We
raise our voices together in a multitude of cries
Nature
is a our rhythm & nature is our rhyme.
He’s
our father & our brother, granddad, neighbour
Always
been there & he'll never go away
So
let’s honour old Albion in our love & our labour
Get
out of the house, away from walls & await the coming day.
