Hot Light

Wrote these lyrics on the 214 bus from Kentish Town to Liverpool Street a couple of days ago. You might be wondering why I'm always banging on about gates made of light, the need for light, etc, etc, etc. Well, in this case, this is a companion piece for some else that I wrote which was a poem called The Light Gate. I came up with that - in a dream, I think - as a vision, I have quite a vivid visual imagination and I find it easy to generate abstract images in my mind's eye that explore my emotional health.

So, about five years ago, I published a collection of short form literature on the web called 'Rolling The Dice', and one of the short stories was about a dream/memory/vision that I had of being a giant transparent sphere packed with cogs and machinary rolling across a desert landscape and colliding with other spheres (people).

Recently, I saw a light gate in my head, and then we had the light fountain, and now I'm trying to find away to express the metaphor. The Light Gate is on a horizon. And its a very dark world. Because the light is imprisoned within the glass gates. And a traveller, seeker, pilgrim, whatever you would like to call him is following the beacon of the hot light (a laser beam, I guess) that shines out from the Light Gate (I've always imagined him on a 16th century frigate), and he uses it as a navigational tool. And once he finally finds the gate, he has to set the light free and end the darkness.

Hence, once the gates of glass are shattered the light will open.

I am fine today. A bit hungover. Looking forward to moving into my new house at some point and getting my studio back together.

Tom.


The Hot Light

In the frozen land,
Of hearts entrenched,
Where the cold silence,
Is self-defence,

On a dark horizon
Where all hope is spent
And the souls have buckled,
Into wreckage, twisted and bent.

Youll see him reaching
Up above for the beacon
Of the hot light
(beams from the Light Gate),
Of the hot light
(beams from the Light Gate).

In the silent rooms
Of a darkened mind
The light calls
Out to the blind

As troubles and fears
In a psyche, choke and bind
And cogs of intolerance
And ignorance grind.

Youll see him reaching
Up above for the beacon
Of the hot light
(beams from the Light Gate),
Of the hot light
(beams from the Light Gate).

Against the walls,
Of hate, bitterness and pain,
On the ground of a desert
Praying for rain,

In the head of faces
Raging against the grain
Amongst the sordid dreams
and bed-sheet stains,

Youll see him reaching
Up above for the beacon
Of the hot light
(beams from the Light Gate)
Of the hot light
(beams from the Light Gate).