I gaze upon the moon each night,
I sit in the dark,
Staring skyward,
My eyes reach out,
They can’t reach her,
They’re not worthy.

Crescent full or gibbous,
Her dazzling form lights up the dark,
An astral goddess,
An empowering icon,
A source of inspiration,
Playing kiss-chase with the clouds.

So why do I see a second moon beside me each night?
And beside me each day?
A moon of such astronomical beauty,
That it blots out even the lunar goddess,
Earthly yet still heavenly,
A goddess of a different kind.

Then I realize,
You are my second moon,
Superior in every way.

2ndMoon

The accordion plays on and on,
Its player masked and humbly attired,
An apocalyptic accordionist,
Tight-lipped and stoic,
Longing for the end of all things.

On and on,
The world falls apart,
Flames jig to the tune,
The land quakes to each note,
Civilization gives a final emphatic applause.

The world moves to an inaudible drum beat,
Waiting for its execution,
The noose tightened,
And the guillotine lifted,
An accordion at the end of the world.

Each keystroke is a crescendo,
Each scale is a finale,
And each note is a curtain call,
An Armageddon,
So the accordion may cease playing.

The end comes,
The accordion plays on.

Accordion

Tin Foil Knight

Posted: October 30, 2015 in Poems, Random thoughts, Reblogs, Writing

Tin Foil Knight

WorldofHarley

This one is for you Lee. Bit of a spur of the moment thing but i hope you like it. I love you. xxx

You are such an amazing treasure,
A real life angel,
I’m more or less nothing,
I’m simply a Tin Foil Knight,
My tine foil armour is all crumple and lacks a sheen,
My sword is nothing but a coat hanger,
My shield, a wooden plate,
My steed is pretty much imaginary,
I’m no lord, no baron, no king,
I’m just a Tin Foil Knight.

I’ll still be yours though,
With my shield I’ll protect you from dragons who make you cry,
With my sword I’ll fight off your nightmares,
With my armour and steed I’ll rush to your side,
I’m not much good but I’ll stand by you,
I’ll be yours,
Your very own Tin Foil Knight.

Picture 134

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The Few

Posted: October 27, 2015 in Poems, Random thoughts, Reblogs, Writing

The Few

WorldofHarley

After months of planning,
The sea lion begins its attack,
Teeth bared,
A black cap upon its head,
And an iron cross on its breast,
Its minions swarm overhead,
Ready to drop hell upon the Isle.

Who can stave off the sea lions bite?

Men of the Isle,
Exiles from the east,
And allies from the west,
The bravest of pilots,
The Few.

They take to the heavens,
In their seraphs of war,
Raging Hurricanes,
And surging Spitfires,
Aces against the storm.

Remember their heroism,
303rd, 401st and 312nd,
Remember their names,
11, 74th and 609th,
Brothers and comrades,
The Few.

The Battle of Britain calls,
This will be their finest hour.

TheFew

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Awww, ain’t that soppy part 2

WorldofHarley

Aaaand here’s the other one.

 

“As she stands on the stage of life.

The spotlights highlight her beauty as she,

sings in her wondrous voice.

The crowd goes crazy, cheering.

But then she notices.

The crowd is one person.

Me.

Her biggest fan.”

 

Love you Lee! <3 xxx

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Awww, ain’t that soppy part 1

WorldofHarley

Yes yes, i know. It’s a love poem now shut it!

 

“As I look out across what I call my world.

I see lush rivers with serene waterfalls.

I see the beautiful sky,

Filled with a celestial sun.

I see the rolling hills,

The colossal mountains,

And the rich forests.

But then it all melts away.

I blink, and see you.

And then, I realize.

You are my world.”

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My candles breathed their last,
I decided to take a walk with the full moon,
A dark shape crossed my path,
An unnerving smirk upon its countenance,
Disconcerting yet darkly welcoming,
Fangs glistening like daggers in the moonlight.

A mad grin,
An infectious grin,
Piercing eyes,
Unblinking eyes,
An obfuscated form,
Even more obscure intentions.

He greeted me warmly,
Every sentence punctuated with a giggle,
He explained his way of life,
To laugh was to live,
All else was misery he said,
Life and death were simply gags.

His laughter spoke to me,
Like friendly advice I could not ignore,
Each cackle was a poem,
Every chuckle a sonnet,
Each chortle was a well-formed argument,
It told me of things wonderful and unseen.

His laughter seduced me,
It revitalized me like a shot of adrenaline,
Like a lifestyle I’d shamefully missed
His guffawing opened a gateway,
An expression of joy in three syllables,
Ha. Ha. Ha.

I almost joined him in his nocturnal comedy,
But then I saw the corpse crumpled behind him,
A bloody beam carved across her face.

His grin vanished…

LaughMan

Puppet

Posted: October 16, 2015 in Poems, Random thoughts, Reblogs, Writing

Puppet

WorldofHarley

The puppet sleeps soundly,
He smiles in his sleep,
Dreaming endlessly of a life unfulfilled,
A pointless life,
An empty life.

He dreams of paying obscene taxes,
He has notions of amounting to nothing,
He fantasizes about voting for tyrants,
He dreams of a dead-end job,
His life is not his own.

He has nightmares of a better life,
Nightmares of relaxation,
Nightmares of aspiring for more,
Nightmares of finding romance,
His life is that of a manikin.

His strings wait calmly,
Waiting for a new day,
A new dance,
A new missed chance,
A day closer to the rubbish heap.

And then he awakens,
This puppet is not made of wood,
But of flesh and bone,
His puppeteer is no entertainer,
But a society that doesn’t truly care.

Then the puppet puts on his suit,
And goes to work.

Puppet

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Hello inmates!

I hope you’re all having a very crazy year! I can’t believe it’s nearly Halloween again already! It shocked me to discover that my last writing music post was at Halloween last year. I do say that is unforgivable! It feels like a long time since I posted something that wasn’t poetry. I’m not saying that’s strictly a bad thing mind you, I love writing my poetry after all. It just seems like even this asylum is risking becoming a one trick pony. We can’t have that, that’s for sure!

So here we are once again, chapter 15 of the Harlequins writing music! For some of you who may be new inmates of the blog, I’ll briefly explain what this is. This section (if that is the correct terminology) is about music that I enjoy playing while I write my fiction and poems. I’m sure I’m not the only one who doesn’t like writing in total silence! The Harlequins writing music is simply a place for me to share some of the artists and songs that I particularly enjoy to tune into whilst I weave my scribblings. I will be sharing 5 songs here that I have been listening to recently. These could be almost any genre, you’ll just have to see! Have fun!

Now, let us delve into the musical minds of whimsical artists the world over!

The Kinks – You Really Got Me
http://www.thekinks.info/

The Cure – Friday I’m In Love
http://www.thecure.com/

Grendel – Chemicals + Circuitry
http://www.grendel-hq.com/

Boy George – Evil Is So Civilized
http://www.boygeorgeuk.com/

Katatonia – Saw You Drown
http://katatonia.com/

So there we have it for another chapter of the Harlequins writing music! I hope you’ve enjoyed this post and that perhaps you’ve found your new favorite artist. I encourage you to check out all of these bands. Also, I encourage you to check out my previous writing music posts for even more musical majesty! I intend to create a post in the near future that compiles the writing music posts so far into once place so keep an eye out for that! Be sure to put the eye back in of course…

One last thing, I have a new poem planned to be posted tomorrow at some point. It will most likely be in the evening, but who knows. My posting times are sporadic to say the least. As far as what it’s about, all I’m going to say is I haven’t written a poem about a serial killer in a while. Take of that what you will.

Until next time, have a very crazy day inmates!

Book of Nightmares

Posted: October 15, 2015 in Poems, Random thoughts, Reblogs, Writing

Book of Nightmares

WorldofHarley

As I stare blankly at the page,
Me and my mind make a pact,
A pact with this book of nightmares,
This monster I put my pen to,
A sanctum for every horror that crosses my minds eye,
Or perhaps an asylum?

This is my unholy gift to you,
A window into my mind,
Full of horrors and abominations as it is,
I must continue to write regardless,
I must keep creating these literary monsters,
The book demands it.

I begin to write,
And the nightmares come out to play,
Letters and words creep from recesses,
Punctuation slivers hither-and-thither,
Sentences of madness begin to form,
I’ve released a monster.

Or am I creating it?

BON

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