AXIS: the Station

1.Zoo Station   (U2)

2.It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)   (B.Dylan)

3.Brian Damage > Eclipse  (Waters/Gilmour)

4.Terrapin Station  (Garcia/Hunter)

5.Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds    (Lennon/McCartney)

6.AXIS:Bold as Love   (J.Hendrix)

7.Rainbow Country  (B.Marley)


 FOURTH DAY  -  Flight of the Marie Helena  (Robert Hunter)

The fourth day dawns at midnight.
What should have been the moon
whirls like a scimitar swung round the
turban of some blood drenched Saracen
beheading stars.

Questions on the first day,
then riddles giving way to
mystery on the third;
today commences with apocalypse.

A shrill high fiddle note presides.
Transported to high ecstasy,
our firebreathing eyes pour
music back into the violin.

Then saith God, "Call
your son Loammi meaning:
Ye are not my people.
I will not be your God. (Hosea I:IX)

"You shall abide many days
without a prince, a king,
a sacrifice, an image,
an ephod or a teraphim. (III:IV)

"Blood toucheth blood,
let the land mourn.
Thou shalt be
no priest to me." (IV: II,III,VI)

What? No teraphim?

Supplication seems inadequate.
It is too late for sacrifice.
Perhaps some sort of bribe
is apropos.

Tossing my wristwatch
into the snapping sea,
my timepiece is returned by an
indignant wave, rewound.

The soft hand of one
who is not, but almost,
present begins to stir
my hair with breezes.

Three more days of this,
a soft wind whispers,
the poison will subside.
The Marie Helena and
her ocean will provide.

A raft cannot ship water.
The Marie Helena will not drown.
It may float, becalm or spin
but it will never sink.

Those not disposed to vision gather
on the west deck, trade yarns and speak
of remarkable spitballs, delivered
with a touch of fire.

I go among them and speak
of innings, runs and scores.
We will speak of "going back for
a long one" and derive some
simple creature comfort therefrom.

Slam down the visor!
The moon becomes again a moon
of gentle incandescence
over the smooth, lapping swells.
The lion of the ocean sleeps.


True dawn.
Sea and sky, then
sky and sea,
fleck, foam, wave -
luminous blue rose.

An island lies
off stern - inviting.
Ah! If we could only
swing the Marie Helena!

But no, we are engaged to
ride the mighty raft where
wind and wave command!
Mark it on the map and wave farewell.

The perfume of its trees
ride on the breeze which
gently, firmly, sadly
bars our entry.

A very blue island
beneath blue clouds
against blue sky
rising from blue sea.

It is not a dream.
Ah no, it is another thing.
It is a sunlit vision
seen through rain.