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The Heavy Frigate

by Endling

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1.
From this homesick raft the bite of cold is a nuzzle, an eiderdown, a just-lit match don’t look now, it’s a long way back It’s telling that when the sea and sky act as one body, mine does not, it’s driftwood to rot, and I don’t stop, even if I ought In Poseidon’s clutch, the smaller victories won’t add up to much, nor light home’s hearth, so don’t disarm when the sea is calm Soma steeped in briny deep as fauna trapped in amber, the oceans weep but don’t remember "The sea is calm tonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.... Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night."
2.
Carousel Bis 03:16
Inertia, he lands on and crushes the diorama, gravel sabered in the palm of his hand The loose jaw, a nod not to the King of Corinth, nor a wink to the folly of man Haul me right off, I never stick the landing but do re-embark, not upright but always standing (The carousel is waiting)
3.
At elbows with giants and juggernauts, the island was a stain on the map filled in the colour, contour and all flitted proudly between fore and aft Bog bodies in arms of time, an unintended design freed from the rot of demise, an unintended design if you’d hold me, then I might stay for a while the spiders up sequoias are always on high The last that I heard, there’d been a ruling went against us, sure, the luck of the draw didn’t turn up and the night lingered on, viscid like tar and too long the intent it was good, but the method was wrong Orphaned, the island relents, embarks a new vagabond, in the meantime, the canopies draw on up to Andromeda, and then into the loam drops a bomb that scatters it all, the pieces all pepper the dwindling abettors who slowly become Bog bodies in arms of time, an unintended design freed from the rot of demise, an unintended design if you’d hold me, then I might stay for a while the spiders up sequoias are always on high The last that I heard, there’d been a ruling went against us, sure, the luck of the draw didn’t turn up and the night lingered on, viscid like tar and too long the intent it was good, but the method was wrong
4.
Sixth Ocean 03:41
We weave and lurch as a bluebottle in flight, live for a day and die by the night, head for the mantle and spin by it slow to the song of our mothers’ tangled throes of dream, she cavorts, we careen, as was taught feel the thud as it grows, the cleaving crust, the undertow Are you dreaming of the ocean?
5.
Herringbone 05:25
Hold a match up to failing light, comb the sky, sign of life, long ago, said you wouldn’t unturn a stone, now we know it’s a lie With my brother moribund, at the point of no return, he said the dead did abandon us, with not a word from the dirt The fallen lay in monochrome, ploughed and indebted for terraform as herringbone, till the land, pave the road And there you go in red and gold, pariah with not a damn hand to hold, and spitting bone at the dark martyrdom
6.
Foot in the door, do not disturb, I would be shaken by the dawn quiet as an open jaw But oh, the cold, it has me numbed and I am not my fingertips who want for hold but cannot grip The hanging breath in air, lock the door put my ankle in manacle, Jurado purr me a lullaby, unredden my eye a tired blanket of creosote, a geezer glowering, clear the throat, providing that I don’t ossify, leave me by the fire on three-dog nights Foot in the door, furtive donee, hunker down a day with me underneath the bryony But oh, the load, it has me buckled, and I am not my vertebrae, a heavy lift to mitigate The hanging breath in air, lock the door put my ankle in manacle, Jurado purr me a lullaby, unredden my eye a tired blanket of creosote, a geezer glowering, clear the throat, providing that I don’t ossify, leave me by the fire on three-dog nights
7.
8.
I'm Away Now 04:10
I welcomed the shiver as an old friend for one last waltz before the knee-bend covered my eyes like a child to sit down with my faulty senses The moon’d not pulled me I hauled my own decrepit body into the deep end a synapse firing, microscopic and inviting, one last chance to be real a synapse firing, never thought that, god forbid, this day would come and I would—
9.
Any distance is a shake, when you’re coasting unawake and guttered by the threatened fade-away; guided wryly through the dark by horizoned question mark, a looming aquila. It’s not when, it’s a question of if we stumble at the same time that we trip: Not when, it’s a question of if we’re stumbling Hands tight around the wrists, teeter on the precipice, with outcome in the hold of providence, to wrestle with our worth from the first until the dirt, amble on by vigil light and lyrebird. It’s not when, it’s a question of if we stumble at the same time that we trip: not when, it’s a question of if we’ll always surrender to it It’s not when, it’s a question of if we stumble at the same time that we trip, not when, it’s a question of if we’re stumbling If is tied up in knots, a herd of Babars pit of the gut Fate tried to hold me down, and kismet gave the runaround, so if is all I’ve got right now to help me up, darling Fate tried to hold me down, and kismet gave the runaround, so if is all I’ve got right now to help me up when I’ve gone to ground
10.
To be alone at Staffa, shouldered by the sun, tall and palatial, though it house no-one Oh siren’s song, please don’t waylay me, let the winged venture south, let me moor the heavy frigate, let me be alone at Staffa And beckoned in by Fingal’s open arms, though winter’s kiss chilled me, the sea stayed calm Oh siren’s song, please don’t waylay me, let the winged venture south, let me moor the heavy frigate, let me out, or let me opt to take a rowboat, drift for miles out to sea, I have read that Keats and Wordsworth said it pays to be alone at Staffa

about

The Heavy Frigate is a compendium of conflict told through a nautical lens - of calm seas that belie the frantic happenings below, of arduous journeys bereft of destination, of shelter without peace and of peace without shelter.

There is an uncertainty that hangs in the air before us like a rolling mist above a vast and daunting ocean - but all the time the seas aren't raging, and there is some semblance of control, it's all that can be done to sit in our boats and wait for the fog to lift.

credits

released February 5, 2021

All songs written and produced by Ashley Collins.

Spoken excerpts of the poem Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold on "The Sea is Calm" provided by Sam Bissell, Stephen Johnston, Catherine Micqu, and Ben Skea.

Additional guitar on "Three-Dog Nights" provided by Billy Crabbe.

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Endling Rochester, UK

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