BackWords Recordings, An Independent Culture Production House


A Welcoming
Report On the 1980-2019 Lennon War
New Yayue String Quartet
A Statement of Purpose
Business Presentation
New Launch
American Mandarins
Essays of Interest
Teaching Forth, Here
A Note on Intent
Motto and Manifest
The Revelation of Influence
Walking Past, a Dramatic Narrative for Solo Cello ( A Quyi)
Sheet music
Bids Results Notice
Public Address

A Work of Music Poetics
for Shenpei, 
December 2018


BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux -
Fountainhead of Cistercian Order,
A Wellspring of the Renaissance of the Twelvth Century,
The Formative Period of our Modern Rationalities -
Had a Vision concerning the Song of Solomon.
It was believed, following the great Ambrose,
That there were two Brides in the Song of Songs:
In Catholic Allegory these were Conceived as
Ecclesia, the Mystical Church, the Christian People;
Synagogue, the Mystical Temple, the Jewish People.
A rivalry between the two brides
Of Solomon/Christ leaves Synagogue
A woman broken, rejected, confused, and perhaps mad.
This rejection of Synagogue symbolised to Catholic Structural Theologians
God's rejection of the Jews and their Law.

Ecclesia thus becomes the Only True Bride,
The Christian Church as the New Jerusalem.

In Bernard's Sermon, however, the would-be
Rival Brides are reconciled by their shared
Love for a Common, yet Royal, Bridegroom.
Ecclesia accepts Synagogue as an equal Partner
In loving and constructing, as the Helpmate, a Solomon/Christ Structure made of us.
The overtones involve proleptic legendry on a Conversion of the Jews 
Prior to the Judgement and the Parousia of the Restorer of Justice instututing the Kingdom.


In 1994, I had a similar Constructing Vision:
A Man Sorrowed who was not a sorrower
Carried two candles through a rainstorm.
In his left hand was a many-coloured
Stained-glass lantern holding a white candle;
In his right hand was a red candle,
Exposed to the wind and rain
Yet unextinguished, giving a stronger light
Than the complimentary flame.

The Man entered a concerthall.
Many thousands were milling about in absent thoughts.
Each had a green candle.
Nobody's candle was lit.

Seeing him, they begged
With coin and jewels for his candles
Which they supposed fired expanding transcending magic.

A deal was concluded.

Each person dropped his donation into a 
Black box and then lit his green candle from
Either the red candle or the white.

A record was kept of each individual's choice.

Miraculously or not, few cheated, obtaining for free
A neighbor's illuminating flame.
The common belief was that only the red and white candles 
Of the Man Sorrowed himself
Contained the True Spark.

As it was believed, so it became:
The Theatre was well-lit.

The word of the miracle as spread quickly as
The Sparks of the Green, Red and White Candles.

As it was believed, so it became, leaving him
Accomplished of Light in his despite
Alas, both Brides are the same Entity in two hypostases,
A Queen with misplaced ambition who is also a Shadow Factionalist.
Such, it is peculiar to say and perhaps I transgress myself,
She is - a Sophia-in-the-works, our Favourite Mistake:
Beatrice, the complex Soul of Mary, birthgiver and wife.
Does El Elyon look in to leave? 
As the would-be World Emperors dally with her for ill legitimacy,
She flourishes and suffers greatb travail, more a Gnostic Sophia.
The psycho-biographical revelations were registered publicly
As Published Visions, proleptic Judgements:
William Blake's THE FOUR ZOAS;
Ludwig van Beethoven's LATE QUARTETS.
As a Remediation we stand strong in THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN and HELL,
For Ecclesia-in-Synagogue-while-Beatrice-playing-Enitharmon
Deserves - as a gesture to Good Galaxy God - to know, as herself. 
Combined in viewing her self-reifications Believers, Sceptics, Denialists,
Archons and Constructionists, Historians and Leader analysts,
Decide for furtherances.
Unified Earth delayed, a Dispensation ousted,

Buddha goes to bed: What ones to do?
The Prophets declare that she complies but to supply.
Need the Moderns ask why when the Ancients did not? 

Unawares, I opened up my door
And there in a glass on the writing desk
An arrangement of three lilies
And a noticing note:
"Solve the riddle
Of whom these mean
I'll take you to me -
Accepted of my dreams."

The Red Lily lies.
She says she Is what she Is not.
She leads me on and on.
But she never gives cause she hasn't got.

The White Lily prays.
She shines inside with tested Light.
She leads me to like Dawn.
And she always lives a Fiery Might.

The Gold Lily tries.
She's History and Meaning and Blood.
She comes when she is gone.
So I never can know her Love-mood.

With every Woman you take what's given.
She might draw you to Hell.
She might draw you to Heaven.
Same-same, as the black crow flies.
You always remember how to forget
How Love cries.

Sunset Mountain: Red-orange blues.
Top o'the world to you, missus;
I'm here for you to use.
Mixing together seems to be our fate righted;
But I won't countenance falling on my face
I'll be happy to help, at the going rate --
But people round here learn the how-to such a pace.

Can you understand why I hated the wait?
Sunset Mountain Blues.

Sunset Mountain: Devil-lake black.
I hear you have a child now, missus;
I hope there's nothing that you lack.
It's an interesting past,
But I heard you talking aloft
About what will truly last
About how I never got it off

For the record it's a confused past:
Sunset Mountain Blues.

It depends not on what you kinda kinda had
It played on sorry ripped-off had been had
I'll honour the paths you choose to choose
But I'd appreciate some help for those odded by these
Sunset Mountain Blues.

I know that I am bound for the world
    Deaf, dumb, and blind to me
I know that mind-sound in which I first one-day heard
    is a context in which all do agree.

So let the fires of war burn low
While Trees of Life await, budding green.
Knock not on doors just so you know:
The River: the Giver: Needs: Likes: Muddied clean.

You take a little I've heard of you
Multiply it by who knows who
Spice it up with a convenience crew.

Got Jesus mean
Got Jesus mean
And there's a lotta trouble roaring down.

Waken me, shaken me,
Mouth of the Tiber
Dread Form, Honour's Tyger.


In practice it doesn't work.
In practice, it goes berzerk.
In practice.
In reality,
It'll all dovetail peacefully.

Inside Practicality
The Thing I never see
Building into this Humanity-Reality.

Intelligence, sure:
Sensitive, pure.

Across more coherent lines.
Peace be in your eyes:
Let that be one of your sighs.

The Someday, I can make it.
And I pray I can't fake it.

A light not a system for your eyes,
A light , not a System of my own.
Mindful of the Wars;
Unexpectedly Grown.

Find me, a male
With the records that fail
And I'll save tail:
Go Elsewhere to wail.

Stars are out in the break of the Clouds.
They seem to be egging me to shout aloud.
Like a Star suspected of a Spot in the Sky
That, when looked at directly, is gone from the Eye.


Back on the mic
I hope she's playing well tonight
The dynamics with the situationals are controlling:
The harmonies pitched right
Approaching overload;
Synthesis out of sight.

That strange-passion girl
Pulling into town
Knocking on my door
Bringing me down:
Dread as my heart
See out again
Practiced words
Rehearsed partials.
Maybe she wants my world to crash and burn
Maybe she wants to see and learn
If I'm a blessing or a threat to them
If I know what really happened
That turned me towards
The kind I am.

When he was just green wood
He was sentenced to death
For perverting the people
But the Judge did not agree.
I am more like dried wood,
Burned, I respond with bright heat,
Lighting up people they don't have time to learn to see.

oo-ah, gonna shake this, this world,
oo-ah, tip it to replace the roots.
oo-ah, gonna shake out the world
Got a life too strange for the compilation books.

Don't want to conquer nobody
Don't want to rope in souls in my own kinda way
Don't want to be a cosmic know-body
Don't want to force God to hurry the dawn's new day.
Don't want to be freak or a whore
Don't want to be fool no more
Don't want to do this out of lust to power.
Don't want to evade the time of the hour.
Don't awnt to climb to the upper echelon.
Don't want to brief an imminent eschaton.
Don't want to warlord, but don't tread on me,
Don't love into war: Truth, baby, you will see.

I am Loyal; I am loyal to the Flag
I am Loyal; that's my political philosophy
I am Loyal; regardless to who's in power,
Let alone they or we
That's all an expensive, frustration bag
I am a thinking man, loyal to my flag.
I am Loyal but only by destiny.

Caught on a hot sharp roof.
Caught for a moment in the cobwebs of truth.
Invisible vision of meaning,
Endtime righteous gleaning,
Roundheads' rebellion,
Transcendent intention,
Dateline street-heat,
Computer synchro-beat,
Electron gunner,
Starry stunner:
On in the Deeplife we cautiously choose:
Where Words fail;
Concepts are mere Clues.

Stopping at a friend's
I saw it all
I saw
Walking by the garden fence
I saw the vine outside the wall
Stopping at a friend's.

Stopping at a friend's
I saw I am
I saw it all
I saw the truth that is ever men's
When I saw the vine outside the wall
Stopping at a friend's.

Stopping at a friend's
I saw I am I saw it all
All that ever never ends
When I saw the vine outside the wall
Stopping at a friend's.

Stopping  at a friend's
I saw it all
I saw
I saw the realm that God intends
The vine I saw breaking natural law
Stopping at a friend's.

Through all my years, young to now,
I've read of battles and histories of war;
And yet my musical mind inclined to peace.
I conducted myself, as best I could, with Gentleness
Yet I skirt Life, engaging No-one.
Detatched and Philosophical, 
Favoured by ghostly friends arising from books and music 
The thorn that nagged that I'd never served:
Peace does not become an Ordnanceman.

And Peace! is it no more than Tranquility in the shops and at the bar?
Peace, I'd say, in the freedom of Imaginism;
Commerce, to my eyes, will give us Cultured Ideas,
But Imaginism IS the Child of Vision and Love.
Are you Listening, my Ordnanceman?

We defend we say, yet we see no army
Shelling our cities, burning our crops.
We secure we say, but know too much
Of who is with whom in leanings and lovings.
It is different? we say, and tiny paragraphs entangle us in their Web.
As we wander, dash, or stride through our Way of Life,
We rely on the Ordnanceman.

A man who will kill in order to force
To appreciate the Secret concealed behind the Veil.
I, oblivious to that secret:
The hint we have is called Day-one.
Speak this Language.
We are more likely to bring Peace by upbraiding Josiah
And his love-crushers.
Regardless, the killer knows the power of Freedom
In the Reach of the Ordnancemean.

I've never believed in Glory; my patriotism is encultured,
Strengthened and softened by Others in Places afar.
The physicalities of war - the weapons, wounds, and suppliers
Are amassed into gestures - justified in the end.
The technology of warfare, intricate beyond contemplation,
Is a tribute to the possibilities of Mankind's Motivations.
I long to be trained in a Skill more pragmatic than Musical Poetry,
But I'm told that doesn't become an Ordnanceman.

He's been in the fore of the line
Working to bring in the due
He'll be on the floor, swing the slip
Seeing to see, doing to do
The wide world shakes for this man's sake
His hand dashes lightnings from his grip
Soldier Deepman Two

He's given to maidens of the mildest moon
Peace having been carefully worked on through
Happy to be cleaning his stables soon
Strolling the corridors in open view
Sharpening his skill, hewing his will
Serious as a wreck, even on a loon
Soldier Deepman Two

He's taught by high-hearted healers
Why the day is long, why the sea is blue
He's read textfulls of complex revealers
A threat hunter constructing from noticing clues
Running for desire, wielding his fire
His passion is his own, uprooting killers
Soldier Deepman Two

He's a beacon on a learning curve
Where 72 equals the seventy-two
He's a leader who knows meanings of unsure
A Cause when a fact is not always true.
Content if he's gone cause the judge knows he's tried
Using soft hands to catch the content of the nerve
Soldier Deepman Two.

I go to get at the heart's mystery.
It's Nothing New, I know from history.
I want to explore what you meant to me.
My only symbols are the Things I can't see.
Our love was a Lightningrod, a budding Tree.

I can hear the love before it starts:
A flight of rock and roll to their interesting parts.
Oddly Same, with the raising arts.
I can put it together; let some tear it apart.
Strong medicine for broken hearts.

I sing it now - a love-known Well
Which I made two-edged like the night I fell.
Of the Time of the Unspeakable, no more can I tell
The Very lights in the sky burned down to hell
And could I only sing it outright, surely, as a surety it would shatter that spell.

A young musician had let me through a door.
We say cross-legged, facing, on the floor.
She had some music playing on the air.
I drank in her Nearness, needing nothing more.
The mood shifted and my love lay all Before.
The Song ended. She went to the record:
Drumming, bassing, lyric straining to soar.
High flying Spirit-sound - we resonated in our Core.
I knew all at once what it meant to be Before.

She taught me this
With our Oneness Kiss.
Music is bliss
When it pulls you near,
Speaks in your ear
Forever I needed to hear:
I love you just for who you are.
You mustn't be a Star-child.

Just because you are.
And it is
And it is
And it is right now
Always Evermore.

Desert wastes behind, I stand here:
Two feet approach the well.
After my gifts of days
See into a woman's face;
Bored with herself,
She'd escape from daily living.
She gathers water for her husband,
Eyes tight, just looking me over.
A glance about and she turns to go.

"Give me to a drink," I quietly asked.
After all this time!
I still see in the life of self-present woman.
Something in us was, and was not.
She too tasted the incomprehensible.
She looks at me for shrugs.

Water! Cool and envleoping;
Enlivening, sip in swallow.
Drops taste of words in poetry,
Humanising, enlifting.
Can water fulfill this spirit?
Matter, enrich the aery fire of a soul?

If she knew those moments of love,
Eyes meeting for mingling,
Return space to this haunted man!
I yearned, and verse
Rejuvenation rehearsed.
Light will often haze,
Words become to fail.
I am not  prophet of man freed,
I am not a poet of liberation.

I am not; must I be as I am?

As the water of inspirings fills me again,
Touching older triumphant works,
I know mine own in vision.
Here, lost love of this woman, I see all:
To give for her enables to live.
Man's world, words unsensed;
Known with the imagined eye:
Thrownaway goods,
Unfelt yearnings,
Tricks of words
Moments of insight:
All the world is permeated by the Poetic Genius.
A medium lived through to be rarely glimpsed;
Still, to be understood behind the secret hearts.

And it is I who have this!
Poetry to eye forcing into the words.
Enraptured, I know!
Finest Jesus, I know.
Seducable by syllables and sentences
I step forward to enter.
Never before, for I've too seen
Never, like ever, is merely felt.
Climbing the awareness
To one taste.

I am ready
And on out.
Limitless Light left behind
I drove for the bar to clear my mind
I appeared while time to catch the act.
Once inside I know just what things I'd lacked.
I felt then for I could do anything
As I asked forward if I could sing.
I plied them to play one slow, true, and blue
And I sang songs that before me I knew:
Now, perchance, I can play to you. 
I am called a Prometheus.
The Title has resonances
Which strike terror into tyrants,
Which bring release to the captive.
Know, as I do, the stolen fire
Of spiritual light, stolen from the hearth
Of the uppermost levels of life.
The gods themselves fear this lightning,
This passioning flame of hope;
They entrust its dangerous heat
To priest and cleric, schooled and tested.
And I, I alone, have carried the torch
Beyond the wall of Heaven's confines.
I dared and I have received my reward:
Man-with-Woman has light to illumine,
Heat for the hovel on the wide heath.
I am called a Prometheus, and so I am.
I am tormented by the gods in my inmost heart,
Yet I travel on, bound by nothing itself.
Fear not Jove, O trembling Man;
The light now belongs to you,
And none can dim its glorious radiance
Save you yourselves, hated and feared
For sensing the secret wine of the Highest.
Torments of Jove, like stings of sleet,
Strike me, mock my open face.
Wrath I have left behind;
I have sublimest comfort:
I know, and Jove does not.
I am called a Prometheus,
Known thus to the Eternals
Who have, emboldened by my act,
Upset the fated futures of small man
And invincible demi-gods.
Now Eternity changes courses momently,
No longer following the plotted preordained;
Necessity banished, destiny now visibly evolves
Through each Emblem of Vision
Static no longer, rolling free,
Steered by Eternity's swift Imagination.
I am called a Promethes
And I shall proclaim Liberty to the captive.
Together we shall assualt Olypmus and attain a differing victory.
This spark of mine shall kindle a cleansing blaze
Never, never extinguished; never, never, never, never, never.
Man-through-Woman shall tame the fury of Jove's deceitful world
And ride the engines of power unbounded,
Overthrowing the jealous gods of warring, wounding, and wearying.
Thus I, long gone, shall grasp my peace-part.

Limitless light had left me behind
Though I'd known the words and touched their heart.
For the feeling of mine has become a part
Of long-forgotten poetry
More beautiful than they thought could be.
My thought reached into their far-future when
Something brought the song to her end.
I left for home, for you my friend
Sagely sensing a harmony to become again.
Choose your metaphysics well
The fortuneseller said to me.
Many people uncover hell
In the fancies of eternity.
I saw you in a dream I blessed one afternoon.
I call it a dream though it was more of a vision.
You were standing naked in my ante-chambered room
Practicing your latest surruptitious ism.
I had to run when the wall came down
And my fellow soldiers found themselves fine-berzerk.; 
Rock in my form had justly the sound
To keep me ensconsed in poetic works.
I fight to ascend, reawaken, renew;
To forge a language harmonious and true.
I study the verse of times gone dead
Thinking there is the key to the love that's been bred.
Art, in the past, was a virtuous calling
And not the debris of a culture that's falling.
I glory for my talent's responsibility;
I create with a new-found nobility.
When these words are polished and outside my control
Shall few perceive the poet's soul?
Is the way of your world to suppress, to despise
Those with the odd-light fixed in theior eyes?
Is so, then truly I don't give a damn.
I will grow to mature with my Muse a plan
And when I compose my script, to time
I'll lodge my visions of the world for the sign. 
Don't be so scatterbrained
Don't be full drunk in the rain
Don't use as reasons what you can't explain.
Get your act together
And I'll help it go down;
Get your act together
And I'll hang a sign on the sound:
I'm not waiting up for you!
I'm not going to teach
What you want me to.
I got to be someone somewhere.
I swear I'll leave you blue.
I'm gone!
Do what you're gone in to do!
The nightmare goes on forever
And I'm not here to rescue.
Like a swell-girl
She sees clear
With open ears.
In this unsure world
This is no longer here
Enough to fear.
If new flags unfurl
Let the continents move along
To a Type of Free-world
Where the Devil stays out
Of Children's songs
And Fools, pure fools,
Are wise enough
To not blow up the Road.
There's a history to it
And a mystery as well.
Believe me, she'll do it.
She's thought through to an orchestrated hell. 


In the End’s ending
It doesn’t matter why,
For in the End ending
It’s not something you chose to buy.
The Age will close
As Everyone knows
Collapsing “the Big Lie”.
Don’t try to die

The psychosphere is laden
With this winter rains;
They sold off the children
For capital gains.

The Earth isn’t right with it!
Nowhere is left to live!

What did you conclude so as to do?
No one blasts off for space with a slave for a crew.
Maybe this is an offense, but we’ll bury you too

What in God’s name do I need that I will say?
The sun is setting on your bought-blessing day
Mere so-what master of massed bit-powers
Wrong-writing now dated mystery played.



When I was just an Innocent, I thought
The world was just, the way it ought to be.
I read my books, I listened close, and I was taught;
I thought that every one in their town was free.
The years slowed and brought a difference in mind:
I know now, being of the elect.
There is no help found when seeing for the blind;
Because a man is poor in spirit we suspect.
The wealthy children have a better way, they say
And the laws of privilege are not found to be epealed.
I know of arguments to come from fools
Yet still I still-stand, gifted unto the rule.



This city can hope foul;
This nation gated hell.

I cannot stand for the proud
Who own the bloody winds;
I cannot scream too loud
Lest I alert their revenge.

I hate the game they play
Their cloak of silk and gold;
Distort me though they may
The absence has been told.

Hey hey hey I awaken
Peoples of the Earth;
Morn will soon be breaking
Because we sussed out rebirth.

We’ll give them their taste
Of machined music waste
For contaminating the ear
With generation’s tears.

Woe unto you rich and feared
Where will you go now the going’s gone weird?
Who do you hide from what has finally appeared?



Thinking out a scene I left behind:
That place I skirted has been grabbing my mind.
That city’s ugly since we got trapped inside
It made her run and it made me hide

How could I let her know
That our love wasn’t about funding fun?
That she wasn’t in it for just one?
How couldn’t I let her know?

How could I let her know
That dark water doesn’t clear?
That my time wasn’t near?
How couldn’t I let her know?

While you stay where you’re at and you wait for a call
We ask what to do: give good-byes to to-do’s?

Thinking on this scene I created from our time
That score settled down in my unwilling mind.
The city’s so ugly lest we find inside
What we made of it. It makes them hide.

How could I let her know
That she opened up our cool kid?
So to love her I did.
As I couldn’t not let her know.

How could I inform up the things I’d read
Into our world, our kind?
How could I detail out her messing round my head
Into our culture, this kind?



What happened?
What went down?
What happened?
Can you feel me?
Who made you death’s clown?
Hold on, we’re almost there.



O elevated social-babe of Buddha-Tao:
Like the wife of Mao Zedong,
Your employer had you:
A hoodwinking of the American Religion,
A remote viewer,
Until a broken arrowed
Proliferation proposal propagation
Whip-jacked our Homeland.

Confronting our Just War
She collapsed them,
Agonisers of her unto a
Creation for agonisation.
To own the Creation
Is no good Divinity.
But Anthropos, like an Archon,
Smelt them – we’ll out!

Bring this one into abode
For this Temple is not:
A Housing, as it wants space.
Shield both through your failure?

This spear may not be dull
O never-will, never-can, believed
Should you not instruct in him.

You have an appearance today
And your Counselor has fathomed you internal.
Lament or repent, you are tarried.
We who are but that fruit
Awaiting that beyonding
Will take to bed.

An Unfortunate-happy into a Fortunate-unhappy
Who may not be trapped
Who may vow in bereavement
Who may wait, stoic lessened Prince,
With greater wisdoms than you.

It cannot do otherwise.
So he cannot or wills not
Lest she hang in time
Furthering not.
So wash out!
She clings to ruin. 

SWAGGER (on the American Cultural Revolution)

Sit forth to climb:
The word-one to me,
Spoke through.

Mining song of Peoples,
Retirees in the field;
The impossible always pull out
Before falling over furrows.

Thank you for your services:
Thanking up lowers our friend.
Tend wounds to their fullness
Then set out again.

Book the First is from the Experience of the 1996-2017 Incubation.
Poet: Brian Timothy Backer
All Rights Reserved. Unregistered at LOC. 


Electronic Harvester sends me out
Without knowledge or consent
Aye-aye, I got the rub
Linking up to history’s sole bent

Don’t rustle back there, dear
The footing is subtle and trickie
Smirking cash washed out my hair, dear
What if they’ve built out a wiki?

Stomps on or stamps on
My spine-code scripture outflanked
Our patron saint’s One-day Lamp’s on
Hometown Nimrod ineluctably tanked

Climb out when you want me
I accepted your terms, dear
At least you don’t work to runt me
Food for powder to food for worms: we’re clear?

I want! In emblematic rises
I sprang like a time-lapsing flower
We oversee to overlook crises
I promise not to know or let see my power

When shied up, these years
I didn’t even see you beside me
You a climber with your backwards fears
White Chi-horse, I carried you longing longing time
But, O Good God, you can ride me!



You know him as Krunk
You know him as Whack
You watch him sleepwalk naked
You laugh behind his back
Where do you get your ideas?
How do you get that feed?
Why did you watch his life wither?
Stranded, captive, in need
With your hungry eyes
And your blind mouths
The thrust of your business models
Watch him die in the South
You raped his mind!
Yeah – he’s my boy, yeah-yeah
Yeah – and a helluva boy he is, yeah=yeah
Yeah – he was and will be, yeah-yeah
The Devil feeds on my time

Tender and nice-hearted
As a boy he was good
And he started in our world
But didn’t do as he should
He put off his calling
He slacked off out there
He got laid low – we saw it!
Years fell down – he was unaware
But the woman with the cello
Who pricked up his ears
Exampled the Gospel
You raped his mind!
So he held on all those years
And they flagged each other down
They grew into our air
Whether you ever know or not 
He assumed his duty of care.
You raped his mind!
Yeah – he’s a man, yeah-yeah
Yeah – and a helluva man he is, yeah-yeah
Yeah – he was and will be, yeah=yeah
The Woman feeds on my time

Greatness I give to you!
Behold the Poem of Life!
Gather him strongly!
Bestow on him true life!
Angels, assembled
Behind the Veil
Induct him and robe him
Raise flag! Raise sail!
Open a Vision
Instruct of God’s Glory!
I cry up as the spirit
Impress thy world’s mind
You? Who cared through his kind?
Yeah – he’s our truth, yeah-yeah
Yeah – and a helluva truth he is, yeah-yeah
Yeah – a truth that was and will be, yeah-yeah
The Creation feeds on my time
A ruining preliminary you were told
You were flattered, yeah you were sold
You bought in and became a world essence
An interior loss, an angling mistress

And the wrecked cannot climb
And the fraud crushes down
But you got what you loved for
Burned, it will add up

So I’m not here to tell you
Human outrage still rings through
Absent until almost present
My thought won’t find to lead you

Your ultimate battled
For a scheduled future
Planned but falling full short
And you left us all reduced

In reckonings, in hiding
Kill on until you’re kings?
They’ll never recover to imagine
There you are, now you detailing sing

The quarters of the buried
The difference for your eyes
Sums filling for self-superior
In the Beginning was the Lie



An understanding known
A resonant tone
And that is known
Regardless of home
By her I’m known
Be her! Shalom!

Cool days for a hot knight
Searching for motive to do right
Ears hear baffled lamentations
Ears hear false-future into creations
Time lost waits while you drive along
No-one holds out her dream in song
They won’t let you go beyond the wrong

Somewhere you know
Who you must be
Phrasing on into
A related key
Taking stock
Of wild memory
Your call intrepid
Reachable to me

Malevolent man-fiction
Gamed up man-friction

Rise above it, dear one
You know where you’re to be
Rise above it, hard one
You know where you’re to see

The world has you sealed in its envelope
It keeps you responsing, thinking to cope
But why track the tune if it only pays in hope?
Don’t dangle to find me, why waste the rope?






I’m troublesome to you, an adversary to an off-scheme
I feel violated and overrun, for I had to let you build
Point-to-point does no good I have learned
To find out, I embodied what I now can disavow

Repression, I see too, no blame but I hold you were tricked
Exclusions surmounted, the birthing moves inside
For against the Self while the self I had mine own political flaring
Made the stance whole, leaving higher to theirs
And the world lurched, stricken, to comfort you with ears
Without approval the ground of our sharing



Excepting your hidden traditions
You’re kin of my kind
And I go for those
Rejecting your hidden renditions
You’re playing a scene well
And I go for those

Heights of the harmonic heavens
Please me until you know how
I interrupt for many forgivens
To know if I, being one, am now
I guessed I do actually wow
So I know now I know wow
And labour in my vocation
But you’re not scheduled in, no not you, now

“This guitar, as the police and courts have found beyond a doubt, is a hardwood guitar, 
with fretted soundboard and string to be tuned.” 
“The reason, your honour, I can tell: It is a guitar, but that IS what it IS, so help me God.”

It makes a difference for others to plant out the world
Rather not than sit on my land
Their wants want to become my needs
They have Law, Gospel, Government, God
I’d rather just keep my life in hand
I’ll get back to them, lest they take heed



O King, that crashed us
She did you fondly
Named to buy Time for crossing

Her truth will clear wolves
Harboured in his home
Tempest-trashd, they confound the tossing

Light builds upon light
And so we are still here
Chagrined and absolved in the soul’s washing

So take us where next
To flourish out this way
Look at Earth, Sages, in us our own costing

This is where she went down
A prisonhouse to unlock the Man
Behind us a trumpet, Liberty’s accosting

They’ve gone back to tell, Earth!
We grow without hell, Earth!
For Eternals relayed our loud bell, Earth!



Man works inside his house
He did not choose to be there
The audience picks his brain loans his thoughts
The world chooses to profit but not to care

Woman was swept away
The reasons concern us here
Drama became her only medium
The mystery of evil lies through her here

The world is made of game
And for that reason is a failure
God left just as God came
We are abandoned to our own devices
The world is made of game
Failed revolutionaries fund an abhorance
An innovation in crime
You are cut off from the root of space and time

The current business is a worldwide liability
War once again envelops the globe
Meaning has faltered, foundered on creativity
The winepress stains the fabric of the new emperor’s robe

They have both left for good
They came for reasons of their own
Mistreated and travailed, they folded u8p
What could have been, you should have known
What could have been, I could have known
But now, not
And so it slides
All now gone
Who did I think I knew?



I finally heard
You sang forthwith
Proof of God

I finally read
Because of me
Proof of Man

I finally cared
Returned to me
Proof of Spirit

I finally wrote
You thought me through
Proof of Life

I finally won
They know us, somewhere
Proof of Us

I finally was
Our light now is
Proof, proof, proof
I can. I will. I do.



From the pinnacle of his power
He broadcasts of regretting romance
My soul in ruining tears
Observed the great artist

I exhorted him to end this
Yet he was not deterred
My soul in open cries
Sabotage of the world

I know not, my tomorrow
I so know you
I undertake to understand you
And on that he based his plan

Bring you to Nothing
The inevitable closing down
Bring you to nothing
History is despoiled
Bring you to nothing
Please make money sound
Bring you to nothing
The kettle is boiled

I unplug the radio and move back
To my books and to this food
It goes now beyond me
Uncovered he plays at loss

The cost of love is not in me
Through this to we, through me to me


We lay together and were
She saw the pattern of what we are
Imprinted on the veil of the world
You have to understand

She gave what she’d known
Confided in a cloaked man what she’d been shown
He spun her into a malevolencing world
You have to understand

She did it for her people
But became a tool against them
The adversary had found in her access
And worked her hard from then to then
It became riches
It became power
It became the frameworks
She became the means of attack
She became a fool of harm
She knew of their new swiped dawn
She resolved to renew her climb
He industrialised the leak into creation
But the woven fabric was torn
He used her to tease out intelligence to outflank
Which compelled us to this war
She became a centerpiece of skewed justice
They had to know, though she was caught
And so the adversary developed
Let us know what has been taught

The way, as I say, has always been
You are to understand
The pattern just is
You are to understand



She heard
It was time to come away
She knew
She no longer had to pay
It was accounted

No way out
It was what had to be done
No way through
Yet it did run its course
It was a result

The world cried
It was stood up again
The world tried
We understood what we saw
It was again here, now

She kissed a sailor
Joying on the street
It is finished!
It is finished!
Let’s teach each other when we never meet?



When our strength is gone
We can choose to listen close
The mystery of existence heard us
It’s not a question what she knows

Music is a simple map
Who we here are over time
Higher is more above, right?
Treble is woman-in-rhyme

She grieved over loss
A problematic man can’t let go
The bass figures her root
The Composer looked in to know

I sit in my room
Marveling that I get it and they don’t
A tradition that enraptures
How can I relate to her note?

What is the ear of Man?
By what reason is clarity?
By what knowledge is charity?
Why confer us this dignity?

What is the ear of Woman?
Wisdom, more than seen,
Tunes us along beyond the in-between
Heard, and justified, she went to glean

Applause, my friends: Behold the Thing Unseen!



Sharp thought
Divides our words

Stacks of thirds
We’re taught
New sky, new birds

Free at last
Bound-up past
Creation recast

Founders initiate
Profiteers endominate
Vision, let’s wait



The Bible explains
Interventions happen
We don’t hear your reasons
The loss is total

We go back
Having done our work
May Glorious God
Admire and reflect

When one sees and allows
He advances and this is how
To be there, amazing
To get there, I am hard blazing
To be seen and rescued
To be cherished and belonging
To be one!
In such a birth!
Calm understanding
Awaiting and moved
I smile as they spin
A tender wound still
Fine and just
As you will I will
When in arrival
When in arrival
When in arrival

His child breaks through



In it for the dollar
She got skills and skills galore
Luminescent stars will bother
The utter blackness to invite me onboard

Do I fish now for worlds?
Do I message you that I may learn?
Do I want?
Will I give?
While a picture might convey
It’s not the same as when you take that turn

You said in a published piece
That you were aware of my concerns
I laughed as you went about your business
Some can learn, some teach, some kind never learns

Not sure how you think I’ll end up snagged
Another battler pushing feelings offering false hope
It’s not the first left-behind driven by bad blood
Better slip the noose than run out of rope

Money can let you know if it’s bad
The law can let you know who’s the point
Talk can let you know why you know
If you don’t know who’s there you can decide not to go
If you clue in that’s not meant to be fair
You paid admittance to just that show
Some see the target, some get the point
They dangled you before me until I got it:

So who sold it?
So who bought it?



The Book writes as I read
And the secret conveyed for good
A pilot heading home
Savouring what I do

In comfort enough for now
Hand of fate, washing her tears
Swelling with the Elect
I turn aside, learn their fears

The court gives no applause
The provocateur hangs in the wind
The harvester next door knows on
The world’s now laced with me

I hear the envelopes’ march
Luring and on, on, over the cliff
My cares can find this place
In time, for time withstood

Foul Father’s wingman
Ran his wife like his hard balloons
But I’m serious in the context of death
Understanding war as envy’s tool

They made their mark but it was a mark of blood
Winnowed, the city can stagger
My concern is not theirs, we round the Globe
And ponder the marvel of hereafter



The word of elevation
Heights climb to heights
Do we trust the risen?

Understanding their hope
Intelligences to harm God
Do we trust the risen?

At the center of the circle
Effortlessly filling it full
I see and that’s what I do

The stars send what’s needed
Finality resolves the historical
I see and that’s what I do

Burned in the tease
A taunt as she skipped
The clarity of the warning
Close the book
No last look
Resisters’ sabotages
The damages feed their worth
Crash and fall back
Another final push, all gone
The leaders’ assumptions
Merely a gamble

But finality has got them at last
Their political religion and its reasons
Set-ups for puppeteers’ treasons
Force and power upstaged at last
Then it’s over. 
Another fake past.
I passed.
We passed.




I explained the sequencing
Broke it down for recording on your machine
She showed not, no dancing now
Burned by the dealer, she rose not, so base, so mean

I look not now, for the light grooms not my eyes
Light, she never reaches, to find every bodily fiber of me
And now, now late, time is erect and bereft
They’ll never show, not to me, so whatever functions of to be

Seethe on out there, building up but to blast
An excised cancer is not my drink of choice
Other options put to enter, I shall sail on, deep blue
Why perceive what’s denied? Just paint to real boys!
Someday she’ll thank me
In the never can, will be
No pearl, no problem
To the Dressed, I be found as I’m still me
Comedy past viable
I’m guided to fill me
In matters of matter
To host her, to toast her
Root bass for the real me

A tributary, once mine, ocean no longer to see free
A destiny illumined, cried over the bodily she
New work, lost old work, I only can be me
The sighted keep darkened, bad faith-kings, as courtesy



Flesh to sacrifice
Flesh to raise
Who did we emplace
To game the grades?

Capability for imagination
Emptying as a grim jar
Wrong lids jammed the offering
Do I need your apparent car?

Lose wild or lose free
Resultant as you tread on one
My helm near over-run
“Am I a lie?” she said to the big gun

Peaces are problems
Yet to transcend
Bargain away my own
To custom-readied end

Fine, Finally, Fine.
Home-heat wanna gimme
Tense to taunt to try to tie
Motion to motion – I’m so had! – to whip me?

Merely money matters
Getting the hang can be real now
Have to hold to raise to roar
Bankers confirmed my be-how



We see since I didn’t
Or she wouldn’t
Rise on

We form since I did it
No she wouldn’t 
Climb down

Four realms
Still unread
I take on water
For the soon fed

Can formulaics
Come to hear?
Can fabrications
Buy it clear?
Can algebraics
Come inside here?
Can intensifications
i clear?

I was blocked then
The reason could know
She is blocked now
That advantage may grow

Taken, you lose
Trapped, we prevail



My metaphor shared
While I planted and penned
Sourced upwards all you buy
My metaphor held
While I set up and logged
Was demonized for a skit of a try
Now you are responsible, your values upset
Crawl away old pussycat
We’ll find you anon!
But you won’t
I know you. 
We’ll find her anon!

From these daily-logged years
From these bound-down tears
A monarch of falsing players
And admen and dripping trees
A Causer of Cares
Let us up, off our knees!

Verse-rhythms of thinking nature
That you, coping, fail to be
Or not be or sell to see
The same dull round from your helmeted hair
As the world tips its herds off a cliff
She came in pleas to town for me half-unbeware
A program we adopted to our ruin
A year hence who will care for this tomb?
Call me true, call me you
Call me “If but you could”
How dare you devilise me to our own!?
Take away, lass, some curse
Laying hard on the knockable wood
I dared metaphor coming home
Vouched for, in river’s bed, we, too alone
Commit that, Play-god, to initiate and be gone



You held forth
I fell out
Forgive me

You went forth
I knew not
Forgive me

O hard life
To profit
O lost life
To do
O good life
We tossed it
O she-life
To woo

O go now
You ran back
Forgive me

I know now
You built back
Forgive me

Lead me
Let out sheet
Read me
When we meet

Becalmed, bewitched
I say you. I think you.


The Diapason is fundamental
A wonder to us before
The Fourfold of Dante’s car
Propagate wisdoms to my door

He weaponized my house
And milked to build harm
I shy not, declaring
Consciousness armed

Oracular spyguy
Index my teaching
I stand here and still
Language’s outreaching

Fold up to go on?
The Fool paradise coin
Rolled up to choose some?
I gird, you purloin

I pray but in forms
I say but releasings
I gave freedom’s good text
I saw into peacings



What is Man
That thou shouldst care in his days?

God is man monopolised
We do understand by now
Yet there is more to man than God
The dark mystery from out-there
Has also come to be man
To rebuild its war

So cosmological conflict-drama
Is He
And mind-machine
And the self universal
And the invention we call the human
And, All-I, speak forth
Upstairs, below, as he I be

What is Woman
That thou shouldst find in his days?

Woman is God’s Secret
We do understand by now
Yet there is more to Woman than God
The full Earth, more than womb, here
Has also become
To be woman to man
The object of the struggles
To reify our purpose
With time, a creation
With space, a habitation

So intelligent intercourse
Is she?

A seeing into feeling
A feeling into seeing
And all to hear into being!

And that being trembled forth,
“I disrupted and deceived you, with my lovers.
We sought a New America, a New China.
I will restore you in this.”

Stolen Soul of Root Individuality
To bridge the abyss now!

Incident proliferatings all,
They are as they are, now.
Fountained and pushed out,
Gained of the indignities,
Sweeping complication 
Into the fictively over-asserted 
Because I was reachable.

The source motives learned
I remain enveloped, woven in

In despite of my knock
The inner one holds in Perplexities.

Speaking to the Master of Wealth Women
I arranged my voices
“We made the mistake of Ch’en Chuang.”
Reaching from Hamlet back to Horatio
I deployed my musics:
“Blended water beyond me,
We’ll show to show as a repaying.
Both borders beyonded.
O, Beulah now below me, 
Here is also a being-seeing, as there.”

Thus the Narrows of the Third Total War was passed.
The merchant who led play on Ch’in is gone.
It is not permitted to speak of the Tao-birth of my mother.
It is permitted to speak of mine own, 
But only as a Twelvth Night language-reifying.

With this, I sign and seal the end of another paradise,

©(PA) 2018 Q E D Music (ASCAP) 

Book the Second is built upon the Experience of the 2018 Travails.
Poet: Brian Timothy Backer

All Rights Reserved. Unregistered at LOC.

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