Something deep and mystical in this podcast episode. I came across Whyte’s work while visiting a museum in Dublin in 2019. #podcast
Tag: poem
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In the Evening
In the evening what you have to do:
Accept the reality of what has happened
and move on to the next step.
Put the light switch on, stop this messing around.
Now I feel like I am running—
We all know what it’s worth.
My heart aches, aches with longing,
For what has passed and now I cannot go.
Work fills my consciousness; to switch it off
should be so easy in my work, but we never…
Nothing that is everything, double by four.
Would like to move on to some—
This is personal, set it in a play.
For what has passed and now I cannot go.
My heart aches, aches with longing.
Speed seems to be the essence.
As I hold my head, pressure of it has to part.
Caterpillar to butterfly—
In this thought, in this world.
How much can it take? Watch the people on the bombs.
The punishment with a flick of the switch.
There is a man with talent.
I lost it about then, overtaken.
Get up today in the afternoon—
Lost it about then.
Get up today in the afternoon.
In play format:
Title: The Switch
Character: A solitary figure pacing a sparse, dimly lit room. The atmosphere is electric, time fragmented.
Monologue:
(Lights dim. A soft hum in the background. The figure stands center stage, wrestling with a memory.)
In the evening, you face it.
Reality. Cold, confirmed, inevitable.
And then you move. Not forward—just… to the next step.
You flick the light switch like it means something.
Like illumination will dissolve regret.
I’m running. I don’t know where, but it’s fast.
Everyone knows what it’s worth—
Whatever it is.
(Pause. A breath.)
My heart aches.
Not in the poetic way. In the gritty way.
A longing that scrapes bone.
What’s passed is locked. No way back.
Work takes over.
It should be easy—I’m good at what I do.
But “easy” is a word we’ve misplaced.
(Steps forward.)
Everything doubled, multiplied by silence.
I want to move. Somewhere new.
Maybe this is a play—maybe I am the playwright.
And still…
My heart aches.
Same refrain. Same truth.
Speed. That’s how we survive now.
The pressure, the shift.
Caterpillar to butterfly, sure—
But what if the wings rip on the way out?
Bombs drop in a world that doesn’t blink.
Punishment comes with a flick of a switch.
Talent unnoticed.
I was overtaken.
A moment. A blur.
Got up in the afternoon and the day was already gone.
(Lights fade to black.)
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Devils Door
From the album ’ Opera Afterwards’
Long time ago
I tried, to tell the truth
but the words that I spoke
not a word was heard
shield the light from my face
shield the light from my face
The devil is knocking on your door
Which way will you turn for more
angel angel angel
Now you stand so tall
but your money does not count at all
your heading for a fall
nothing I can do at all
your on your knees
your garden is full of weed
I know you have to feed
but not your need
Shield the light from my face
shield the light from my face
The devil is knocking on your door
which way will you turn for more
the devil is knocking on your door
it is time to collect the debt
devil devil devil
Shield the light from my face
shield the light from my face
the devil is knocking on your door
Which way will you turn for more
the devil is knocking on your door
it is time to collect the debt
Angel
Written 1995 Cousin Lee, Published Painting You © 1996
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Is
Is (unrecorded bootleg)
I have no idea about time sense or rhythm
I have no idea about why that did happen
I don’t know what is black or what is right
I hear stories about this and that
stories about you every now and than
I used to be able to tell, but now I am no longer sure
If I shoulder let you go or let you come back
I can’t tell what is spinning about the air
or what is coming down, to play with my world
Yes I am with you, but for how long
Cause I could be lying to my self, when I am not watching
But I am so glad you are here, to wrap my arms around
and if I can, I will take you all the way
so you can see what it is all about after the thunder and rain
If you can hear the man that is deaf
can love what is not loved
there is reason down the corridor
There are cats and dog we are like
we can’t see what is heard
but we sure know what has been
even if you can’t feel it anymore
and your eyes are getting sore
with your spirit picking pieces of the floor
There are those that will rob you for your heart
There are those that will rob you for your mind
and there are those that will rob you and make you ask why
If there is something you secretly want to give
if there is something you feel then do it now
before the hand of time moves across your face
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Free Press
Set the press free
free from profit
free from their owners
Let it be independent
Set the Press free
Let it not fill our minds
with thoughts that are unkind
makes us want,
what will never makes us find
Happiness engage in the topic
to bring light
with no hidden agenda or fight
I hear you say
Set the press free
Let it be funded by a neutral body
with only real interests
not to protect one
but to protect all
If the press works now
then I don’t understand
Written By Cousin Lee © 2015 Discuss at https://twitter.com/LeoC
(Source: https://www.youtube.com/) -
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Is
I have no idea about time sense or rhythm
I have no idea about why that did happen
I don’t know what is black or what is right
I hear stories about this and that
stories about you every now and than
I used to be able to tell, but now I am no longer sure
If I shoulder let you go or let you come back
I can’t tell what is spinning about the air
or what is coming down, to play with my world
Yes I am with you, but for how long
Cause I could be lying to my self, when I am not watching
But I am so glad you are here, to wrap my arms around
and if I can, I will take you all the way
so you can see what it is all about after the thunder and rain
If you can hear the man that is deaf
can love what is not loved
there is reason down the corridor
There are cats and dog we are like
we can’t see what is heard
but we sure know what has been
even if you can’t feel it anymore
and your eyes are getting sore
with you spirit picking pieces of the floor
There are those that will rob you for your heart
There are those that will rob you for your mind
and there are those that will rob you and make you ask why
If there is something you secretly want to give
if there is something you feel then do it now
before the hand of time moves across your face
Words and Music By Cousin Lee © 1993
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Across The Bridge – Unrecorded Bootleg
Meet me this side,
of the bridge at midnight
Meet me in black & white
we are going to blow this bridge up out of sight
Unless the give into our demands of delight
Things are flying
in the air, but I don’t seem to care
Just got to make sure that i get some of that
Gunpowder and dare
But I hear that it would be unwise to cross that bridge
because of the fear
and I don’t know if you will survive
All these bit of despair
that seem to have brought us here
Standing on the ridge
I hear the voice reach inside
The great man say it’s time to switch the lights
Blow it up out of sight
But I hear that it would be unwise to cross that bridge
because of the fear
and I don’t know if you will survive
You must, I can’t it is now or never
light the dynamite
Blow up out of sight
or all that has been, will have been in vain
nothing to survive
But I hear that it would be unwise to blow that bridge
because of the fear
and I don’t know if you will survive, I don’t know, I don’t know if you will survive
Words and Music By Cousin Lee © 1993