My Table

Hey you,
You look glum,
A fellow oddity,
Has the world worn you down?
To a dirty sheen?
A cynical attempt to reduce you to normality,

People look down on you too,
You’re just like me,
A rancid freak,
A lunatic,
A weirdo,
A total loser,

What do you think it is?
Do you dress differently?
Is your countenance vividly chaotic?
All hair dyes and mascara,
Do they call you queer?
Do they throw their slings and arrows?

Come have a drink with me,
Let’s drink to disorder,
To individuality,
To our quirks,
To our life choices,
To ourselves,

You’re welcome at my table,
Our very own haven,
For all of us freaks,
Lets drink.

The Pit

Been in this pit for a while,
Stuck in the dark,
My mind claws at the walls,
Leaving deep ruts,
I sit cradling my weary brain,

I have not the strength,
Nor the will,
To escape this place,
Can anyone tell me what sunlight is?
I don’t remember,

I forget what threw me down,
Maybe I jumped,
Would I choose this dismal hell?
To punish myself,
Or was it someone else?

I hear happiness walk past my pit,
Joys and laughs,
Elation and innocence,
They glance down timidly,
And hear my misery,

My moans scare them,
They flee in terror,
They leave me down here,
Trapped in the gloom,
Trapped in the pit.

Insomnia

I fear that thing,
It preys upon me nightly,
Goaded by the moon,
Cloaked in nights masquerade,
An insidious predator,

It plays with its food,
Tearing my eyes open,
Forcing me to relive the errors of the day,
Over and over,
A hellish beast,

It prowls each and every night,
It’s clawing at every inch of me,
I’m caught in its gloomy web,
Chaining me to a life in the dark,
I fear that thing.

Mayhem

Life is mayhem,
A true destruction derby,
Raised voices and raised heart-rates,
Backstabbing and backhanders,
It’s no surprise nobody gets out alive,
No crash test dummies for this,

The debris is everywhere,
Shattered friendships,
Broken and marred bodies,
Those without homes,
Failed relationships,
Detritus of humanitys’ progress,

Oh well,
Pay the wreckage no mind,
Might as well accelerate,
Make that jump,
We don’t get out alive.

Crash!

The Smog

The smog lifts,
Feelings of smoke dissipate,
Emotional baggage lifts,
I can breathe again,
No more choking,
The smog lifts,
The soot leaves my mind,
No more tears,
They’ve all evaporated,
This clown looks up,
I can peer through the haze,
This painted grin returns,
The future beckons,
The show must go on,
The smog lifts.

Funny Farm

I once began to make no sense,
My mind squirmed blissfully,
Kaleidoscopic thoughts,
And nonsensical images,
Such insane joy,

Or perhaps misery,

They tried to send me to the funny farm,
Pearly gates and high walls,
They came for me,
The demons in white coats,
Doctorates of deception,

Or perhaps altruism,

They came for me,
The voices told them i’m sure,
With a straitjacket dress in hand,
Fashion for the mad,
A gown to suit my luster,

Or perhaps my folly,

So they gave me candy,
Of myriad shape and shade,
Confectionary for the brainpan,
Citalopram comfit,
Sertraline confection,

Sweets of depression,

They want me to be mundane,
A productive little cog,
Now i’m off to the funny farm,
Cackling all the way.

Crying all the way.

Some writing music: Part 24

Hello there inmates!

As always, I hope you’re all having a suitably mad (and productive) day! Things have been rather busy here at the asylum as well. Lots of writing and lots of giggling!I’m still in the process of sorting out my writing desk and general geek area. It’s coming along swimmingly, but my laziness gets the better of me on some days! The voices often tell me I need to get off of my ass, but what do they know?!

Anyways, back to the purpose of this post. Wonderful musical offerings that help me concentrate on my scribblings. We all know how soothing or energising music can be. I try to keep it as varied as I can, since the notes and tunes coalesce and produce thoughts of true creativity. That was rather profound wasn’t it?

So, without delaying any longer, join me as we delve into the musical minds of stunning artists the world over!

Skindred – Kill The Power
http://www.skindred.net

We Came As Romans – Fade Away
https://www.facebook.com/wecameasromans/

The Qemists – Run You
https://www.facebook.com/theqemists/

Andre Rieu/Anthony Hopkins – And the waltz goes on…
http://www.andrerieu.com/en

Ghoultown – Drink With The Living Dead
http://www.ghoultown.com

So there we have it for another volume of the Harlequins writing music! What a good time I have making these posts! As always, I hope that you give all of these artists a look. They most certainly all deserve it! I Feel I should also take this chance to suggest you look at my older writing music posts as well, if you enjoy this one of course! There’s quite a menagerie of musical marvels in those. Thank you for everything my fellow inmates!

So, until next time, have a very crazy day inmates!

The Entity

The entity hungers,
Its realm shall be your eternal hell,
And it brought you here,
Into the fog,
Your agony is its lullaby,

The hooks call,
Dripping with thirst,
You will hang,
Left to die,
Over and over,

Its slaves will find you,
And take you screaming,
Through blade and chainsaw,
Club and disease,
You’ll feel the red glow,

You shall be grist,
For its tendrils,
Hook-like and quivering,
The fog god whispers,
And its servants obey,

Your suffering shall be its nourishment,
Even death is not an escape,
The entity hungers,

Waves

I fear only one thing,
The ocean,
The waves,
That all-encompassing monster,

The surf attempts to creep towards me,
Clawing hungrily,
Eroding the land,
Just to reach my flesh,

The water calls to me,
With murder in its voice,
The swell appears as fangs,
Each wave is a beast,

It wishes to consume me,
Drown my soul,
To take me into the abyss,
To send me to the locker,

The waves dance seductively,
They glitter entrancingly,
It’s my idea of horror,
I see it in my dreams.

Plague Doctor

My friend,
Are your humours askew?
Brought on by gossiping rats,
And flea-bites of rumours,

Call the plague doctor,
In all his ostentatious regalia,
And his avian mask,
He will soothe your soul,

You are a sick being,

Your soul is covered in buboes,
You spit bile and pus,
Your actions reek of necrosis,
Of rot,

You are a sick fool,

He’ll quarantine you from the worlds hurts,
His mask shall shield him,
From your ireful infections,
With juniper and rose scent,

Your spirit requires healing,

With his cane he will show you,
The way to healing,
Ointments and tinctures,
Of calming words,

He’ll blood-let all of your fury,
And all your bad thoughts,
Will be for the leeches,
He will remedy your aura,

You will be better,
Your humours rebalanced,
Your humanity restored,
The plague will pass.