purpletrees.jpg

                                                    
  • Modern Times

    and the new era turns
    inventions and displacement all along the wayside
    the eyes behold and beheld
    the hands raised in joy
    and fingers stretched in disbelief

    and the twisting jesters
    of enlightened future already begun
    soared light-foot across the pathway leading
    this new era forth

    while the people stood and wavered
    and the mountains stayed so firm
    while glaciers correspond to new airs
    new chapters commence, the pages turn.

    we the watchers, caught by sight
    we the listeners, strain to feel what's right
    give up the guides and recent rules
    the totems change and change their clothes.

     

    next along the pathway came the black suits stiff
    with pallid resolutions
    they bought and sold the dirt
    they hid and hunted waters
    and inspired a global thirst

    they shone their flameless lights so cold
    and told the gathered millions
    what was not and what was gold.

    But the young and youthful
    climbed in tress along the route
    and from the swaying branches
    dared to doubt what the noise was all about

    they knew, their inner self still still knew
    that the reckless and abandoned
    would fall and be soon swept away.
    so they girded inner vision and composed new silent chants
    and committing them to memory
    spoke their lines full freshly by heart.

    then next along the curving road
    the lost animals did come
    most forlorn and unrequited
    in their skins and faded use;
    their horns and swaying tails
    and bleats and belly honking
    blowing air and dust around

    but here the flying angels
    all feathered and still with sight
    did shower illumination
    upon those made blind with fright.

    such an uproar
    such a caterwauling
    our modern times were made to hear
    its bewildered ears were sent in spirals
    though the signs were oh so clear

    we stretched our arms and made for the shores
    beside this swirling tide
    made for the branches frail
    turning away the chance to run
    refusing to choice to hide

     

    and the pachyderms and bureaucrats
    and lovers of the same
    continued to play wild roulette
    tempting others into their game

    oh the vortex and the widening gyre
    the whirlpool full of froth
    captured oh so many souls
    bedevilled by the sloth.

    i saw you floating way way off
    but heard your voice so lean
    it calmed me and surrounded me
    you seemed, close as could be seen

     

    and I, I sang and split the wood
    and washed and tossed and turned
    and sorted all deep in my mind
    and laid it all so bare

    the I and you and you and I
    we parted and were close
    we were the many calm eyed beasts
    which out-stared the billowing clouds

    we were singular and plural
    we were sexless, yet fertile and full ripe
    we were trusting deep mind all the way (blindly)
    in this world then robbed of sight.

    And if the new times allow it
    if they bequeath us rites
    again we'll meet in fleshed form
    regain our voice, re-state our touch and sight.

    Repose and reinvent the world,
    each every day thus new
    sleep and dream beyond the fight
    resurrect the saintly flow
    and walk through fear towards long night.

     

    may 1'12 fontcoberta

     

  • blue plate

    a blue plate
    a tale and a basket
    handing out tunes and bread for day
    and another mile
    and another song to say
    sing and all will be brought and taken
    like water and the blues
    like time and the memory
    and the scratched soul of a world
    poised and ready to continue

    say a line
    and sing awhile
    and all will be one

    wait and watch
    the door to further opens
    and bird enters,
    happy as a tree
    and bright as light blue
    seeing me
    and seeing you
    and still pulling words from throat
    as morning mist blisters the end of summer night.



    © Julyen Hamilton July 4 2005



  • Early Morning Beauty Blues

    early morning beauty blues
    as bird flies sugar-free to full light
    streams with windows of istanbul
    and the bass simple rings ears
    to happiness and nether quiet

    early morning blues
    makes dance moves fast like the blue plunge
    to deep waters 
    and the expanse of temperature

    notes from the master playing standing bass
    friend beyond negotiation
    worker of the instrument
    receiver of the gifts
    maker of the evidence
    through and further than  the sparrows scratch
    and refined like gravel from the mountains


    early morning beauty blues
    marble and peace
    wood and skin touched
    like a light sleep with the eyes half shut
    half open
    half shut half open

    out of the window
    over the house tops
    city of converging rivers
    seas to immense oceans us

    from some tiny me soul
    with the lips hung ready to whistle or sing
    these early burning beautiful morning beauty blues.



    istanbul july 2008



  • herds of cattle

    other words
    other moves

    further stories
    new herds of cattle

    migrating through the mind
    other oceans

    other shoals of thoughts
    coloured like tropic

    symptoms of change
    establishment and evolution

    black day
    shot through with light

    bleak desert
    produces golden droplet

    honey tunes
    sing wild delight

    and delicate baskets
    are woven through the night.



    © Julyen Hamilton aug 31 2005



  • hymn to potency

    I suppose this is a hymn to potency
    a small river flowing in my blood
    flowing against the flood.

    What more can a poor boy say?
    What more can a man?
    What more can a woman?
    What more can a man or a woman say
    now that so much seems broken
    and the century is adrift.

    Let's look, let's look, let's look.

    The post comes so slowly here
    I got your letter only yesterday
    the one you wrote me 1000 years ago
    let's look, let's take a look
    I open the envelope like the skin of a tree
    and here I sing what you wrote to me
    you said...

    "I suppose this is a hymn to potency
    a small river flowing in my blood
    flowing aginst the flood.
    What more can a poor girl say?
    What more can a woman?
    What more can a man?
    What more can a man or a woman say
    now that so much seems broken
    and the century is adrift,

    Let's look, let's look, let's look"



    © Julyen Hamilton '93



    Song written for the performance CORTEX with Carme Renalias in 1993.



  • BURNING ADVICE

    to the atheist
    allow the question of after life
    to melt the rationalised future

    to the believer
    let go of belief
    and peel your eyes to the evidence

    to the hopeful
    let the roads of hope be laid
    but without need to be travelled

    to the wise
    fall forwards into deep blue beautiful youth
    and strip time away beyond its reign

    to the enlightened
    check your hand-luggage

    to the present and tense
    shift and touch the world
    just to the left of here and now

    to the serious
    play

    to the jokers
    practise silence in an exposed place amongst others

    to those who advise
    write your advice down on paper
    and burn the book happily in winter.




    slovenia river soca aug 2007



  • spontaneous abstract behaviour

    So boogie drove away the blues
    as spirit sprung in and spun round
    like a wake-up call
    screaming softly in your ear

    pearls and dark eyes
    and the spice of indian bhindi ladies fingers

    horns and cherubs sing
    and their songs lilt and file
    scrape and slide
    as backs scratch smoky air.

    you're joking, every melody's mine
    as they spin and shine

    peach voices crawl over gravel
    and the light is all there
    all there
    like no denial
    as they inch forwards
    opening the night like a surgeon
    moon as knife
    song as sponge
    dancing as blood
    and the devastations of wildness
    the only way to the sanity of the hour.



    Whiskey calls over to the island cat
    and says "Honey when does the sun shine here?
    why no snow in your neck of the woods?
    if we wait 'til spring maybe they'll have cancelled it"



    So they tear down what is left of the night
    bundle it into the back of a limping car
    drive it to the boarder
    change its colour
    and throw it,
    hopeful and loving,
    into oblivion ...
    far beyond the mind's imagining
    and the body's touch.



    And so the heart of feet cools on
    the late wet pavements,

    and sick christmas songs fade
    to sleep
    whisper
    silence.


    nicosia dec 8 2007



  • These are... a series of whispers

    The air with no wind - You listen with no legs


    Talking about and old man who long ago was young
    and when young he went out with a knife
    and peeled all the onions in the garden
    and in the end he found only concrete,


    About the onion - the paradox of centre - the centre empty


    Talking of history
    the voice of a 1000 years of genes
    the multiplication of essence, essence, essence
    history, history, history
    onions, onions, onions.


    Compassion, compassion, compassion lives of compassion.


    I come here today to send a message
    I knocked on the door
    it said open at nine and the weather was fine
    and I was happy as I knocked on your door
    and you opened and I come in and said
    I want to send a message
    I want to send a message


    I want to send a message
    between my heaven and my earth
    and I send it in a series of whispers.


    A series of whispers like honey
    like history, history, history
    and essence, essence, essence
    and onions.


    And each one hears the message as whispers
    one at a time
    passed on down the line.





    © Julyen Hamilton '93



  • Disappearance

    Brief as years
     you heard me
      staring purely as a boy

    keeping my distance like
     a foreign boat
      moored at your harbour side.

    Beads of light off the water
     tunes in early morning
      a silent cycle passing
       like your disappearance
        lead by your elegance

    a rare flower graces the apple tree.




    feb 07



  • this hibiscus is a trumpet

    this hibiscus is a trumpet
    on which the night plays,

    listen

    this vista is a present dream
    which now renders real.

    I sit and watch and hold myself
    in arms

    a chest of breath the dust of night kissing
    this dear boy girl

    whom we are all exposed to be
    clearly and wonderfully.

    this hibiscus flowers trumpets
    as words transform to insects

    the night dances to song
    suspending
    the
    hours
    as
    melodies




    jh 2007



  • as fantasy

    as fantasy is a place where it rains......
    she waits earth ready

    as body is a world down where song finds root,
    her god's ears are listening

    as book is a place where carved pebble words lay
    awaiting the spring of reading eyes

    while heart is place where teeth are useless
    and smile reigns married to tear.


    Thus legs are a place which finds her
    running beyond obvious fields


    listening to crumpled sounds of personal forest

    steaming up hard breath hill

    racing over thistle bed

    and sharp flint carpet


    to arrive 
    at desire's
    enveloping long eared
    deep arm chair
    of fantasy



    ..........awaiting instruction.



    jh 2008



  • CRAPPY MINI BAND DANCE

    crappy hot and sweating pretty
    you're twisting to the nitty gritty
    and all the elbows are a' chasing you
    as you boogie to and fro

    so i tap my feet
    and tune my lips
    and close my eyes
    and turn my hips

    and music flips
    and hands they hit
    these broken sounds
    from crap music bands

    all along the road up front
    i'm listening to musicians hunt
    their way along the black back roads
    gone hunting scraps and cutting notes


    they're hunting and they're breaking time
    i watch you chasing all you find
    no rules to break no lines to cross
    the music rules its god its boss


    i pick a stick
    and pluck some string
    we'll lose the roof
    with this music game

    warm your feet
    and brave your heart
    they're playing shit
    which sounds so sweet.

    the walls are bent
    the sky pours down
    as the crappy deaf and dumb street band
    is making sense of wonderland.




    jh 2008



  • The big space 

    You are standing at the end of a long narrow corridor
    I see you from afar
    this distance is further for my eyes than for my feet
    as I approach you I realise you are naked ;

    and this first nakedness is like a question.



    The pressure of the space between us alters;
    at first I accuse you of causing this
    and then I realise it is I who am arriving with this pressure
    and then I realise that it is you and I both
    and then I am aware that we are linked and that makes me nervous
    nervous for the fact that something has begun in which I will have to navigate
    and I know
    even though the walls of this narrow corridor are firm and guiding and reassuring
    that maybe I will become forever lost in this navigation
    and so I call to you for help
    and you answer me only with your nakedness;

    and this second nakedness is like a statement.



    I cannot turn and exit the corridor
    there are others behind me
    I am like a fish caught by the gills
    and the water of this corridor is made wetter
    and more hermetic by the rectangular transparent wombs to either side of me.
    I focus on them, staring intently
    seeking refuge in their technological nature
    which makes me notice even more the inevitable approach to your body;
    Then I notice projections upon your body and breathe relief
    the relief of a once famous painter who having faced a period of creative emptiness suddenly finds himself able to place colour once again upon the canvas;
    I am happy to a disproportionate degree and continue along the corridor;
    my sense of time within all this is like a diver's,
    constantly being pressed and and suspended,
    like the air inside a suction pump,
    the blood within the arteries,
    the thought within the imagination.

    Now I am easy at the approach,
    fascinated by the projections and their caressing of your skin, calm that they stain no further than the surface, that they will need no water to be washed off, washed away;
    our eventual closeness carries no surprises,
    the handshake of inevitable consequence;

    and then
    as I stand before you,
    me in my confidence,
    and you in your painted nakedness,
    I am shocked once more and thrown into the edge of my self
    for I am blocking the light
    casting you into shadow
    immediately peeling off the colours projected upon your skin
    the cool dark shade I have brought you
    once again makes you naked

    and this third nakedness surpasses the other two,
    for it contains no collusion,
    we are simple, personal, and impersonal.
    no room for fear, for excitement, for anything,
    even as families of thoughts rush towards the situation to populate it.
    I turn and walk onwards
    invited and welcomed by the immense space of this room
    and my discovery of it
    and quietened by the wisdom of the layer of earth which has been laid for me to walk upon.

    If at any moment in the corridor I had wished my body naked,
    then now, even more, I wish to take off my shoes and bare my feet
    and place the eyes of sensation between my toes
    and be once again like a young boy and like an old man
    with no heavy weight of maturity.





    Later, much later, I cannot remember how much time has passed now,
    I find myself standing before five other bodies entombed, enwombed, I am not sure which,
    curled up in their confines, growing in their readiness.
    And I find myself holding them instinctively
    holding them like a young father who handles with both protectiveness and privilege;
    and whose smile recognises both these attractions.







    All is calm now and this peace is broken only by the future.
    What will happen
    what will happen next
    how will I handle this future and the loss of this present







    .....little do I know how well the spirits can grow,
    in spite of the dusts of doubt all around them,
    how well they can grow,....
    how well they shift me, move me, halt me, fall me,
    cry me, call me,
    peel me, scar me,
    think me, teach me
    rock me, reel me
    spin and dizzy me......

    ...joking constantly and
    dancing with such serious joy towards approaching immateriality!

     


    ..............

     

    Long after all this had passed, I was in the bus going home
    or was it squashed in the back of a friend's car my thigh pressed against the thigh of another.......
    anyway,
    I looked down to my hand and realised something had been holding it all the while I had been in the big space,
    accompanying me all the while,
    and I looked down and I saw in my hand
    a tiny group of minute musicians and heard the tinny echo of their music still ringing.

    I thanked them and said I would buy them a drink when next we met.




    © Julyen Hamilton

    Written for an imagined choreographed by Apostolia Papadamaki. in Athens.



     
  • could it be?

    could it be
    be the key
    this boredom inside
    and all around of me

    could the signs
    the portents clear
    bring all the angles
    which i fear

    might the game
    so clearly blind
    dissolve the insights
    duly found

    I ask the night
    the grey and black
    if what I'm seeing
    can be turned back

    the letter frank
    the pen inscribes
    the news of day
    from which we hide

    but 'tween the breaths
    green birth, pearl death
    the jester's sword
    will keep its word

    humour to humus
    through slime or tide
    our craft alone
    keeps vision wide.

    © Julyen Hamilton sept25'11 fontcoberta





  • Every Step


    Every step
    the foot falls along the way
    and the path tilts
    and the crevasse threatens
    and the wild plains have been sown with seed
    and balance revises itself.

    And the waters await cadence.


    Every foot and each time
    the soul falls clearer
    the voice extends more pearl and bridge
    less stalk and gap,
    the hands shake less
    and the silence in amongst all grows near tangible.


    A question forms from the mist and despises the grips of clarity.


    I listen at a stone's throw
    the new birds are twinned
    the colours take confidence
    and the bell shines as it rusts.


    All this and more
    finds its way to the surface
    contrives its manner of being
    and the squalid doubts retract their ready talons.


    Every second takes its wonder, going nowhere fast.


    The running legs cut a field in two
    the pen laid to the side bows duly to the voice
    the lane of words just born
    is ready to be walked generations in the future.


    Crepiscule winks the promise of the next day inviting
    the subconscious to be left out all night.



    ap 7 2011  fontcoberta




  • Imagination

    1. Words are for contemplation and aim to stimulate;
        they are born of observation at a given point in time.
        As dance moves, so does thought.



    2. Improvising conveys a person's thought and feelings at a specific time
        - not waiting to be conclusions, these feelings and thoughts are able and desirous enough to take
        form...to be performed... movement coming from all of the many centres in the body.



    3. The body has a potential of a wide range of expression and recognition of its environment.
        It can orientate itself at the same time both in the tangible world of its sorroundings
        and the intangible world of its imagination.
        In the improvised moment the audience is present as the dance
        deals creatively with these two spheres.

     

    4. The body prefers differentation and individuation more than generalization and conclusions.
        The body uses movement to expose the imagination.
        In movement, imagination becomes physical.
     

    Julyen Hamilton



     
  •  ...on stillness

    "...what I find myself excited by is stillness as a focus in the body.
    When you think about stillness of course, you realise that the body is never still.
    Stillness is a quality of the mind and body that ideally you always carry with you
    - and if you can tap into that stillness it seems to stimulate movement from a particular source.

    I heard John Berger recently talking about writing being like smashing the silence around the word.
    It's the same in dance.
    There's a stillness around movement waiting to be broken
    ...and when you go through that stillness to find the movement,
    there's another stillness at the centre of that...and so it goes on."



    from an interview in The Independent, London GB 1992
     



    Julyen Hamilton



     
  • who

    who holds the fork
    who holds the knife
    who told the soil
    the secrets of this life

    who managed the lies
    and thick roots of fear
    who opened the doors
    and placed more fear there


    who wrote the lines
    and the stains of memory
    who called the tunes
    and arranged the tyranny

    who made the mountains
    and the epic poems long
    who wrote all those letters
    and the melody of songs

    i, the king anonymous
    i flew in nature's face
    i descended from the zenith
    descended from all grace

    i, the hole of blackness
    and the toothlessness of crime
    i, the tongue-less nervous bell
    the escapee of time.

    i, the eye-less restless hawk
    i shunned the mountain side
    i, the hidden septic pool
    which beauty can't abide

    i, the wrath the gods desire
    to cast their thunderbolts
    i, the purple blaze of doom
    that renders silence mute

    i, the crest-less cock at dawn
    who cries alone for grain
    i, the flaccid empty cow
    whose (eyes and legs) hide and soul are lame

    i came upon the traveller
    along a stony path
    i asked the way, he raised his arm
    and bid me follow far.

    i tired and walked and walked and tired
    the airs both live and dead
    i listened to his cryptic words
    but chose nothing to heed.

    For me, you were the blind man
    the one that leads the blind
    the only cruel helper
    that that epoch could provide

    i trusted you and teased you
    and found your skin so soft
    your ears and eyes and willing legs
    your mind so far aloft

    your thoughts and lucid temper
    your history and mine
    found common point and sensefulness
    the grace of gifted time

    And i wonder on reflection
    who wrote the lines and notes
    whose simple blind indifference
    let child-likeness have vote

    but then again my wondering
    falls on needless ground
    as the seasons eat my offerings
    and all that i have found

    i salute you in your beauty
    your sea of coloured hair
    your soul alone and struggling
    through your darkness deep and clear.

    i salute you in your bravery
    your wise and careful gait
    i salute you before the moment falls
    and the chance comes too late

    i bow this low and happily
    to sense this lowly place
    to place my self in shadow
    and see the light shine from your face.

    your elemental wisdom
    and your breath which tells the wind
    all that details hold
    and all there is to find

    2011



     
  • To sit still

    To sit still
    to have the flame in front
    To enter the flame
    and burn up what is unnecessary



    To sit before a window
    through the glass a northern pine, bare rocks
    and way up out of the city white bears
    and reindeer



    To sit before a window
    high above a gothic street
    which sweats the southern sounds
    of stretched night time
    the ring of butane sellers
    and other voices
    bouncing between the cheeks of the houses.



    A wild goose flaps its urgent wings
    and mounts the air
    to gain sky
    above a group of trees at the field's edge
    and airborne , aims singularly where it must.


    Julyen Hamilton



     
  •  the kinesthetics of language

    from
    where do we speak
    when do sounds become words
    how do words occur
    how do they occur to us
    how might poetry happen
    listening - surdity - and absurdity

    verbs and bones
    nouns and organs
    adjectives and organs
    adverbs and muscles

    is there a difference between the words composed when sedentary
    and those which come when moving
    the play between the movement of words and the movement of
    the body in space


      thoughts from a moving body
    thoughts from a stationary body
    movements around a silent mouth
    movements around a talking mouth
    song and air

     

    Julyen Hamilton



  •  
  • SUITE : OTHER

    He said this is a tree
    He said this is a tree and he said
    I'm sitting beside the tree
    And I said I see
    I said I see the tree
    And I said I see you sitting beside the tree

    And he said if you want to come with me
    He said you've got to start now and wait
    I said I'll clean my feet

    He said you'll never be more ready than ready
    I said beautiful.



    He said this is my tree because I've given up all the trees
    You see you see you see
    No apology
    Wet, slightly wet there.
    He said this is my only way ­ forwards

    Scratch
    He said silence is over rated
    Over-rated and understated
    One two three one two one two one

    The whistle was just the wind in the tree
    And the tree in the wind
    the wind in the tree and the tree in the wind?
    He said lets start again
    I said leave early, no no no no
    He said try yes (clap)
    Sugar

    Its wet there
    Poison Poison Poison Poison Poison Poison Poison Poison
    Poison attention Poison Poison Poison Poison Poison Poison Poison Poetry Poison Poison Poison Poison

    so he sat beside the tree polishing my chest
    he said voila like a rat

    I'm going back down to the basement
    I'm going to undo all my old clothes
    Burr chick-at-ti burr chick-at-ti..
    Hold that second
    Watchac seez a cheekaty
    Baaaaa
    He said wool is over- rated
    He said sheep are the only accompaniment for a spiritual life
    I said attention

    Yahehya yahehya heiyahehiyaforest-blues blues blues
    Aaaah!

    He said you can start again only once
    So stoke me
    Zo zo ztictictic oh hoho

     


     
    This is the place - this the time - this is the place - this is mine
    I'll return with some food, with another a-other
    Another forget 'a' forget 'an' take other
    Hot hot hot hot
    Cold
    Your blood has gone cold
    I am left near the television these nights
    These these these extraordinary nights,
    We have here
    These extraordinary seasons this year
    These extraordinary years we have in this
    apocalypse..welcome

    ..sctract..

    I am going down, going down, going down
    Somewhat down, memories further down
    Risked slipping further
    than the memories of further down, down
    beyond accomplishment, down
    beyond the comfort of accomplishment,
    Down.

    He said this is my tree
    I said you can believe what you can believe
    I believe you can believe what you believe.

    He said I'm sitting beside the tree
    He saidand you? And you and you and you
    I said I'm dancing.
    He said I sit still
    I said me too

    At least not watching like the tree is watching
    Upa ty two upa ty two one two one two
    One two one two one two two one two

    Especially for you
    These days these days these these days.
    Round..like a brush cleaning the screen
    Like a brush of acid cleaning the bathroom mirror
    Like a daily cleaning spree through the nose
    Like utter slow contemporary convulsions
    Like a whale remaining true to its ancient. no its wet somewhere here.




     
    I stand up
    And I stand down
    I stand up
    And I stand down down down

    Ah tuuu huh
    ..in a flight of fancy
    And can, .will you hold me, can you hold me;

    She said is there another?
    I said forget 'is' forget 'an' just take 'other'

    Weeeeeoheeeeahhhuuuuatsss ahehah
    back back back.

     


     
    I imagine this is half a forest
    I am not alone, there are many of us here.
    And also maybe here
    You fool you fool you fool you have missed the other
    Between, about and continually between your beautiful blue-brown eyes - thankyou.

    I'm going back down to the basement where the logs of winter, where the logs of winter,
    where the logs of winter rest like frozen sheep



    He complained they took his wine
    I complained they took my fur
    Hot, no longer,
    Peace..bravo.
    At last, at least beyond all hopes
    Hoping hoping hoping hoping
    Beyond beyond the mountain on the other side.

    Nearly enough but not quite
    Nearly beyond the foliage
    Oohahhhweearrr.yahoooahoo

    Knees
    Television
    Silence
    I am between the forest and not the forest
    I am returning with a song about Charlotte
    Here I am returning
    Here I am between the - and the -
    But unfortuneately the song about Charlotte has not arrived.

     

     

    He said it happens to all of us this tree
    He said there's no tree he said there's a tree
    He said between here and here and here and here
    ..is all completey different.
    just just not so much but still wanting between the
    golden youth of eternal winter,
    only with the thin glare of summer ice
    and your beautiful blue brown eyes
    aaahi mercisaid the rat
    voila.


     
    Of course hueh ha
    He said you go on and on and on and on into the other dimension
    Kill it kill kill it kill kill ithere.

     

     

     

    Marvelous,
    I marvel at the marvelous
    that is how I know it is marvelous;
    And it takes as much energy a cold water to boil ready for the egg of the next generation.

    You cry, I should laugh
    You wait, you sigh, you know the difference
    You pretend you don't but you know the difference.
    Voila.

    He said sleeping was the only way of fully understanding the tree;
    I said all the leaves fall off
    He said you talk a lot
    I said you're not exactly so silent yourself, sweetheart.

    He said we love you
    I said if I'm sick take this too
    If I'm hot take this too
    If there's
    light, sound and difference and altogether other
    Take this too.

    Elbow,
    where all my dreams spread like seeds
    spread like seeds spread like seeds spread like seeds
    huh spread like seeds huh spread like seeds huh spread like seeds honey honey spread the seeds honey honey honey
    honey honey honey honey honey honey honey
    ..continue honey.


      I'm going to fly.




    Text created live by ­ Julyen Hamilton in the performance


    SUITE : OTHER, New York, dec 2002




  • The live texts from             "Pieces for Light and Chance"           Vienna, night 1


    BISCUIT and GREEN


    Primarily understandable
    On the second day everything changed.

    on the third day both Green and Biscuit fell indeterminedly but resolvedly, to work.

    'Follow me' said Biscuit
    Green said 'I'm your man'
    Green said 'I'm your man'
    and whenever Green said I'm your man
    Green lifted his leg like a man

    wonderful said Biscuit 'you make me forget the strangeness of my name, I will love you forever for that,'
    Biscuit was given irrepressively to promises which of course he could never fulfill longer than a decade.



    green green green
    win at cards
    win
    win at beer win at table
    win on the high crane
    win on the building site
    win
    'Green' said Biscuit 'buy me something to make me beautiful
    buy me something to be beautiful
    buy me something gold
    something silver something gold'
    'Green' said Biscuit 'dance.'

    On the fourth day
    that's the day after the third day
    only the third day was one of those long days
    that really stretches you like, like this
    so on the fourth day,
    which seemed like it could be like a really thin day,
    like Biscuit was thin because he never ate enough
    green kept saying. 'Biscuit if you don't eat you'll never have any energy to dance
    and he said 'but I don't dance'
    he said 'you do'
    he said 'I don't'
    'you do
    you do its that you don't eat'
    he said 'you do dance its just you don't eat'

    anyway...

    on the fourth day which was after the third fat day
    fat fat like mother, mother fat
    came
    slowly the real realization of
    death;
    death, the sweet relaxing
    quasi silent prospect of the break with the illusion of infinity.
    Imagine this when you're 28 years old.
    This is young for such a break
    for such a move in the spirit;
    this is young for such a realization.

    Biscuit and Green were both young
    if you piled their ages together they would
    half
    a century
    make.

    --------------------

    Okay - its all changed, its moving on

    Belief like spring,
    when spring comes.
    day 1 and day 2 and day 3 and day 4
    marryyoulatermarryyoulatermarryyoulater
    all have the most incredible
    going down going
    party party
    beer no not winning beer not winning at cards no
    just beer;

    naturally
    Biscuit and Green were there looking outrageously edible;

    --------------------



    I feel like breakfast
    I feel like 2 breakfasts
    i feel like here we should build breakfast
    4 breakfasts
    and a roof,
    coffee,
    and on the roof a cloud
    of course something italian
    of course forget country
    just think.
    After breakfast we go to sleep again
    sleep again sleep sleep sleep again
    sleep again
    such a long long day
    a long way
    back.

    we can make a map and breakfast
    and take breakfast with us
    all over the world
    i mean, breakfast is always useful
    i mean wouldn't you say breakfast is always useful
    look at it - see
    breakfast for three
    'the unexpected' said Biscuit,
    and Green was jealous of that

    'oh god I'm going to climb a tree'.

    (Exactly.)

    So the 5th day which came as a shock
    5th days always entering through the slit
    which has been forgotten the night before.

    ------------------------

    Six - don't miss it
    six is small
    six comes up unexpectedly behind the throat
    behind the heart
    before the plan gets scratched
    six comes around the back of the ear
    in the sharp of the night
    the sharp of the knife
    that cuts the apple
    thats so equal;
    six comes up curling
    curling and whirling
    up unstoppable
    deniable but irrefuseable
    deniable - irrefuteable.

    Six comes out like steam
    like heat
    faithful
    faithful to dancing
    faithful to water
    faithful to dancing water getting
    ho ho ho ho hotter
    under the earth where the bread bakes;
    night;
    Jacob Jacob - Thanks!

    Coming back again
    free like less
    coming back again
    coming back again
    coming back again

    -----------------------------------------------



    Biscuit and Green had a very long life
    25 50 75 150 300 410 500 711
    they saw the moving of mountains
    they saw their bodies growing old and young
    and old and young
    they saw civilisations turning over in bed
    they saw the rise and fall and rise and fall and rise and fall and rise and fall
    of happy countries
    sad countries
    slow countries
    quick countries
    rich countries
    poor countries
    peace;
    the saw all this in their long lives
    they saw towns build up
    they saw towns fall down
    they saw towns come up
    they saw town come down
    they saw places arrive
    they saw places go
    they saw peace
    and the unintelligable stutterings of young children
    they saw they saw
    and the older they got
    the more they saw
    they saw they saw
    and one day
    one day one day one day
    they saw ....
    wait for it
    wait for it, wait for it, wait for it....



    ....they saw no more.




    this text was composed during the performances in 'Tanzquartier' Vienna, Austria April 3,4,5 2003
    and is here in its original and uncut version; it does not include the text and sounds from Christian Reiner




  • The live texts from             "Pieces for Light and Chance"           Vienna, night 2



    OTHELLO


    salut
    salute
    salutamos
    ludo
    ludamos

    hah!

    hola
    hola
    sorry hola
    buen dia
    que fas aqui fas aqui

    othello walked in a particular manner
    to work every
    day
    to work walked othello
    and to walk to work was othello's occupation
    and when othello had no walk
    even worse othello with no work, othello's occupation.

    i can hear work approaching.

    peaches
    apples apples appless apples peaches
    peaches second day peaches
    old apples

    exactly
    precisely
    indubidably
    day broke across his head
    like the egg off a chicken
    when othello walked
    to work.



    othello's work took him 6 hours each day
    othello cleaned shoes for people
    in the station
    in that stationary way
    'clean shoes clean shoes clean shoes'
    he barked like a dog.
    Can I what? Nothing.
    oh it was nothing except....
    pretty feet, pretty chest, pretty back
    pretty bored..
    come come hola

    come hola come.



    ----



    Peaches
    Apples and there are peaches old apples
    and no chickens
    No chickens saw othello
    that morning no chickens saw othello.

    othello just made people's shoes black.

    you understand
    you understand
    you understand
    come on, come on in
    we've got peaches and, sorry, no chickens.

    I have a book
    tomorrow i have abook
    tomorrow i will look at the book and ask othello
    all about being...
    should i choose blue of green should i choose blue or green?
    should i choose green or blue?
    should i choose to be a man or....
    you understand the ease
    you understand the difficulty
    and that the permutations are not endless endless endless
    endless endless endless endless etc

    i found water
    i struck oil
    blacker that the boots that othello cleaned
    in the station after he had walked to work

    bye bye bye bye bye....(melody)

    -----------------------

    more more more more more more
    and hen more and more and then
    more and more and more
    and then again more.

    Somebody to work for
    that's what I'd like.
    you're right
    you're absolutely right
    i said you're right i just took an early sleep
    why not take an early sleep before it is needed
    before getting over tired and then i thought
    this would be a good momentand then i thought now was a good moment
    and the now which was the now then is no longer
    being this thought the sleep is the only way to link between the then which was now and the now now.

    i would give this to you but
    but it is mine.

    'I'm not a jealous man' said othello
    'I just adore biscuits'

    -------------------------

    Hola, hola you remember
    I was at your place
    but i had no shoes
    for you to clean and you made my feet black
    i was soooo happy
    but i didn't show it like this
    i said 'thankyou'
    you remember the week later
    a week
    you remember a week later
    i had no trousers, my money was low and my heart
    (high) here i suppose, they say,

    but sometimes it is here
    and i jump forward and i'm right in the middle of my heart
    right here and i jump back
    and i'm right in the middle of your heart
    and then you jump forwards and you're in the middle of my heart
    and then i turn around and you're behind me again and then you turn around and so -
    you painted my legs black
    and i was sooo happy
    but i didn't show it like this
    i just said 'fuck you! man what are you doing?"

    I lied - i was so happy.

    I went home and danced with my black legs
    and i said
    'someday othello's going to be my man.'

    I said it like a statement - I felt it like a prayer
    I said it like a statement - I felt it like a prayer

    I said it like a statement - I felt it like a prayer

    I said it like a statement - I felt it like a prayer
    I said it like a statement - I felt it like a prayer

    I said it like a statement - I felt it like a prayer
    I said it like a statement - I felt it like a prayer
    you get the picture
    you get the picture
    you get the other picture
    you get all of the pictures and as you get the pictures
    the pictures change and with the changes you get another picture

    hotter here
    more heart there
    romance there
    the river with its heart dappertutto
    which means ......... here.





    -----------------



    Someday they'll take the building away
    someday they'll take the glass out of the window
    out of the buildiing that they take away
    someday they'll take...
    no they won't take the light that comes through the glass
    in the window in the building which they will take away,
    no that they will not take that away;

    Today this makes me comforted
    not comfortable but comforted
    and so i walk in the light through the window
    in the building which they have not yet taken away
    I'll be ready when it goes
    sad for the loss of building
    sad for the loss of window.

    Sister.

    Hola
    I'm no going yet.

    -------------



    My money was running even lower
    if fact my money wasn't even running
    the next week
    (i have to do a week again)..thats two weeks
    there's one for later.

    The next week i arrived
    and othello said 'hi hypocrite'

    That week i had no trouswers
    no shoes no socks
    and even more unusual for this city at this time, this epoch
    no underwear
    i said 'othello' - you'llbemymanbemymanmyman othello
    could you-"
    and he said 'yes'
    and he did..right to here,
    as black as night and i said that's not black enough
    and he said 'close your eyes sweatheart.'

    I was soooo... you know
    and i showed it with my hand, face,..
    he said 'hi bye bye bye bye '(melody)

    -----------------------------

    Its not my fault i can't understand eveything.

    I'm very I'm very taken to this week
    i could live in this week for a month
    i could invite all my friends in this week
    there would be room enough to play cards and get poor again
    to win enough money to buy my clothes back
    room enough in this week to drink, to dress and to eat
    the most succulent
    and to walk up to othello
    in the way that othello
    would
    never
    walk
    while walking to work.

    but
    things got worse
    in spite of dancing every night
    in spite of a myriad of fortunes
    and unfortunes found at the end of one's fingertip;
    and
    the next week
    i arrived with no shirt
    no necklace,
    no earrings
    give them to me i said
    and soon i was black all over
    except under the eyelids
    so i refused to close my eyes
    from that day until now,
    night and day
    day and night,

    dream
    and rubber
    goat and a tragedy
    voila
    a day
    a day i missed.




    This text was composed during the performances in 'Tanzquartier' Vienna, Austria April 3,4,5 2003
    and is here in its original and uncut version;it does not include the text and sounds from Christian Reiner




  • The live texts from             "Pieces for Light and Chance"           Vienna, night 3



    SOLDIER


    in the swimming pool
    swam the soldier

    the soldier
    swallowed a good deal of the water in the swimming pool in which he was swimming

    the soldier wore nothing
    as he swam swam swam
    swam in the swimming pool,
    nobody knew
    nobody said
    nobody saw
    nobody jumped up in surprise
    nobody sat watching
    nobody knew
    the soldier was a soldier.

    -------------------------

    from way beneath
    the blue skin
    way beneath the coming in and the going out
    way beneath the standing and the understanding
    and the overstanding and the beside standing
    and the dancing moment
    way beside
    way above
    but now way below the blue miniscus
    the swimming swallowing soldier heard
    nothing at all;

    heard only his future
    played like memories
    memories
    memories leaving
    memories arriving
    memories kept here,
    watch them now;

    Biscuit and Green came back
    came in the door
    came in the big glass glass glass door
    and heard the pumping heartbeat
    of the motors bringing
    new waters into the swimming pool;

    they said you will hear no more about us we will away away away
    the said we have bought a horse
    away away no in the corner of some field
    seeds spreading all around
    when we dance awhile,
    awhile but the while will be in the dark
    and you will see nothing
    but you will know you will see nothing
    but you will know
    but you will faint because you see more
    than the soldier swallowing swimming pool water
    like a fighting fish.

    -----------------------

    ohivegottogettoanotherwar
    ohivegottogettoanotherwar
    ohivegottogettoanotherwar
    ohivegottogettoanotherwar
    ohivegottogettoanotherwar
    oivegottogoandgetanotherwar
    oivegottogoandgetanotherwar
    oivegottogoandgetanotherwar
    oivegottogoandgetanotherwar
    ..........





    Kneeling down
    kneeling down on two elbows
    two knees
    three legs four horses
    no fruit no fruit just grass
    grass like grass
    brown grass
    and what's this grass here? ­ red!
    i do not believe what they saw grass red
    oh yes - give me some more water from the swimming pool i'll spit or nothing;



    i left my jacket here
    ...and she said soldier come on
    (sings) holy holy water
    holy water
    holy water
    holy water

    i brought you some eggs from the village
    i'm never going back
    everything you say,
    and everything you do,
    i'm ready
    but i'm just shit scared
    and that's why i come swimming
    and swallow half the damn pool
    because i have sort of sneeking, slurping, sensual suspicion
    that things could get - worse;

    -----

    'we understand each other
    so well'
    said the soldier to the water
    and the water said,
    'i am the only one who knows you are not as stupid as you seem'
    and then Green and Biscuit said,
    'right on -
    and on -
    and we'll be dancing for you'

    ----------------------

    you are behind me and this is mearly an illusion of being less frightened
    of what will happen
    when the soldier finishes his time in the swimming pool,
    gets out, dresses himself
    and decides
    which
    which
    which costume to put on
    which theatre to progress to
    which song to spit from his lips
    from his tongue
    from what remains of his teeth;
    dig dig soldier
    dig dig dig dig dig dig
    courage is fattening
    dig dig dig dig dig dig
    here is where it comes out
    all over the world



    here is where it comes in
    coming in
    ready ready ready
    coming in hup! coming in
    full to the brim Jim
    full to the clavicle
    two - the piano
    two - the trumpet
    two - to the bugle
    two - the man
    three - the horse
    four - the water
    the unknown country
    shrinking like a family, forgotten.
    There's room here
    .come
    you're all invited.

    ----------------

    in the swimming pool
    swam the soldier

    the soldier
    swallowed a good deal of the water in the swimming pool in which he was swimming

    the soldier wore nothing
    as he swam swam swam
    swam in the swimming pool,
    nobody knew
    nobody said
    nobody saw
    nobody jumped up in surprise
    nobody sat watching
    nobody knew
    the soldier was a soldier.

    -------------------------

    from way beneath
    the blue skin
    way beneath the coming in and the going out
    way beneath the standing and the understanding
    and the overstanding and the beside standing
    and the dancing moment
    way beside
    way above
    but now way below the blue miniscus
    the swimming swallowing soldier heard
    nothing at all;

    heard only his future
    played like memories
    memories
    memories leaving
    memories arriving
    memories kept here,
    watch them now;

    Biscuit and Green came back
    came in the door
    came in the big glass glass glass door
    and heard the pumping heartbeat
    of the motors bringing
    new waters into the swimming pool;

    they said you will hear no more about us we will away away away
    the said we have bought a horse
    away away no in the corner of some field
    seeds spreading all around
    when we dance awhile,
    awhile but the while will be in the dark
    and you will see nothing
    but you will know you will see nothing
    but you will know
    but you will faint because you see more
    than the soldier swallowing swimming pool water
    like a fighting fish.

    -----------------------

    ohivegottogettoanotherwar
    ohivegottogettoanotherwar
    ohivegottogettoanotherwar
    ohivegottogettoanotherwar
    ohivegottogettoanotherwar
    oivegottogoandgetanotherwar
    oivegottogoandgetanotherwar
    oivegottogoandgetanotherwar
    oivegottogoandgetanotherwar
    ..........

    Kneeling down
    kneeling down on two elbows
    two knees
    three legs four horses
    no fruit no fruit just grass
    grass like grass
    brown grass
    and what's this grass here? ­ red!
    i do not believe what they saw grass red
    oh yes - give me some more water from the swimming pool i'll spit or nothing;



    i left my jacket here
    ...and she said soldier come on
    (sings) holy holy water
    holy water
    holy water
    holy water

    i brought you some eggs from the village
    i'm never going back
    everything you say,
    and everything you do,
    i'm ready
    but i'm just shit scared
    and that's why i come swimming
    and swallow half the damn pool
    because i have sort of sneeking, slurping, sensual suspicion
    that things could get - worse;

    -----

    'we understand each other
    so well'
    said the soldier to the water
    and the water said,
    'i am the only one who knows you are not as stupid as you seem'
    and then Green and Biscuit said,
    'right on -
    and on -
    and we'll be dancing for you'

    ----------------------

    you are behind me
    and this is mearly an illusion of being less frightened
    of what will happen
    when the soldier finishes his time in the swimming pool,
    gets out, dresses himself
    and decides
    which
    which
    which costume to put on
    which theatre to progress to
    which song to spit from his lips
    from his tongue
    from what remains of his teeth;
    dig dig soldier
    dig dig dig dig dig dig
    courage is fattening
    dig dig dig dig dig dig
    here is where it comes out
    all over the world



    here is where it comes in
    coming in
    ready ready ready
    coming in hup! coming in
    full to the brim Jim
    full to the clavicle
    two - the piano
    two - the trumpet
    two - to the bugle
    two - the man
    three - the horse
    four - the water
    the unknown country
    shrinking like a family, forgotten.
    There's room here
    .come
    you're all invited.



    this text was composed during the performances in'Tanzquartier' Vienna, Austria April 3,4,5 2003
    and is here in its original and uncut version;it does not include the text and sounds from Christian Reiner

  • The Immaterial World


    If further, then where, why and when?
    but here and now call relentlessly
    charming all other times to here and now

    swarms of bees work
    the horses hooves spit shards of fire from the stones beneath

    the thoughts the mind waves
    flags in the storm and night,
    brings back news from far away
    and way over yonder

    so being here a while
    paint some further fading years
    then turn in your colours
    and fold falling through the membrane.

    screams and ululation
    broad boats which carry alms
    false lines upon the waters
    causing fear and harm

    right now i can't see so far
    right now the mass is here
    welcome to the thinner frame
    welcome to the immaterial world

    i'm not walking to the other side
    not falling off the earth
    just that perceptions of the present earth
    sometimes need to be
    tested for their worth

    nothing to gain
    nought to lose
    how far does the shout travel now
    now we've become invisible

    this is not waiting
    this is the listening poise
    this is the hunting ear
    and the dark sharp eye
    this is the hand which releases hold
    of all which seems relevant
    divining life beyond the wall.

    Welcome to the Immaterial World
    there's no-one here but you
    a thousand mirrors and the're all cracked
    a city of sirens and magnesium beams
    scouring the grey brown earth;

    but your sights are always on the blue
    you see the false and it all seems true
    there's no use in hunting pearls
    welcome to the immaterial world

    if i was you i'd run from here
    if i was you i'd flee
    but i'm me and curious
    and welcoming
    the Immaterial World.

    july 26 2010

    These words are not said in any of the performances of 'The Immaterial World'
    but they do somehow serve as an inner voice
    which is present each time i make this piece.

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JULYEN HAMILTON

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