Archive for Apr, 2020

Good day my fellow inmates!

I hope that you’re all having a nice day. I think I jinxed it last week when I was praising the wonderful weather that we’ve been having here in the UK. The weather for most of this week has been rather lousy. Lots of rain and a fair amount of heavy winds as well. The only saving grace really is the fact that I don’t have to go out at all right now, with quarantine still being in effect. It has created something of a nice ambience for writing I must admit. A sense of chrysalism, if you will. All we need is some thunder and lightning now!

Things are, once again, running at a steady rate here at the asylum. The ideas fall into my lap as readily as the rain outside. I’ve been having a wonderful time, I must confess. I also would like to extend a massive “thank you!” to all of the new inmates of the blog, the loyal inmates who’ve followed me for a long time and lastly, the wonderful people who take the time to write such lovely comments on my poems. It truly means the world to me. Thank you once again!

So, it’s time for the next edition of the Harlequins writing music. Unlike last week, this is going to be a ‘traditional’ edition, meaning that I shall be presenting five separate artist, rather than focussing on just the one. Variety is the spice of life, or something like that…

Join me as we delve into the musical minds of ‘fantabulous’ artists the world over!

Teflon Sega – Lonely And Free

Falling In Reverse – The Drug In me Is You

The 69 Eyes – Gothic Girl

Whispered – Dead Cold Inside

Jay Ray – The Great Art Of Living

So there we have it for another iteration of the Harlequins writing music!

I suppose that’s a bit of an alternative cluster bomb of music artists this week eh? I hope you all give at least some of these artists a gander, I genuinely feel they all deserve the recognition. Let me know what you think, if you’d be so kind?

If you like what I do here at the asylum, please consider supporting me over at the Ko-Fi page! Thanks for all the support!

Until next weeks edition, have a very crazy day inmates!

Ever heard of Davey Oldbones?
An emaciated killer for hire,
A bounty hunter without peer,
His true name lost to the winds,
He stalks the fringes of society,
Of numberless dimensions,

A revenant,
A harbinger of the end,
He knows no mercy,
His heart and flesh rotted decades ago,
Humanity purged from his bones,
Simply an instrument of Lady Death,

Doom comes in style,
Clad in obsidian trenchcoat,
With blood-red trimmings,
Haggard face hidden behind a gasmask,
Emotions shielded from view,
And adorned with a regal top hat,

So feel free to flee,
When you hear the rasping breath,
And his skeletal hand upon your shoulder,
You will know fear,
And soon thereafter,
You will know the dark.

Beware the Fae,
The gentry of Arcadia,
The red queens and lords of the hunt,
Beings of glamour and madness,
They long for new playthings,

They’ll take you,
The Others,
Kicking and screaming,
Through the labyrinthine paths of thorns,
To their twisted wonderlands,

The emerald thorns,
Of the supernal hedge,
They’ll tear you up body and spirit,
You’ll be unrecognisable,
A changeling,

Your life will be ousted by another,
A simulacrum of your form,
A perfect fetch,
Nobody will know you’ve been taken,
Nobody shall even miss you,

A fairyland of wyrd,
A realm of hobgoblins and trolls,
Pixies and elementals,
Memories will become as dreams,
Are you still yourself?

Will you remember who you were?
Will you escape?
Claw your way back through the hedge,
Collapse finally in the world you were born,
A world you no longer belong in,

But remember,
Faeries are spiteful things,
Who’s to say they won’t come looking?
Nobody likes losing a toy after all.

I wrote a love letter once,
Language coated in honey,
And red wine,
Words to be crafted into a paper plane,
And sent soaring to her heart,

Baring my soul,
Each word a passionate kiss,
Every line a bite of the lip,
A love story in graphite,
Soon to be an obituary,

Doubt clouts me from behind,
A lesion shaped like a broken heart,
The page laughs at me,
Mocking my naivete,
The eraser calls,

I excise them in a flurry,
Each syllable becoming a dismal mess,
The words become a distant regret,
Merely a trace of a love,
Retired to a waste bin of reluctance,

The feelings are now simply eraser debris,
And are brushed aside.

A counterpart of sorts of ‘Grey Skies’.

I took a stroll this afternoon,
Along a stony road of optimism,
To ponder the world,
And my future in it,

The cerulean sky,
It stretches on to infinity,
The grey has lifted,
I can see the sun finally,

The sky cheers me on,
A heavenly audience of hope,
I smile freely and openly,
Among the solar spotlights,

The wisps of sprightly cloud,
They tell me,
Even misery fades into freedom,
Sadness is not made of chains,

Progress and smile onwards,
I return home a better man,
The grey clouds,
They are forgotten for eternity.

I sit here in this bountiful garden,
Passing the summer hours,
Gazing over the various arbors,
That stand guard at the perimeter,
In their viridian dress coats,

They are true fountains of life,
Green with envy,
At our freedom,
Though we should be jealous,
Of their eternal dignity,

The leaves,
They splay out in the sun,
Like angels wings,
With a more tangible divinity,
Laying bare mother nature’s selflessness,

The autumnal browns arrive,
The leaves succumb,
A vision of entropy,
But cast a blanket of rejuvenation,
For the thirsty earth,

The winds twist through the branches,
Imparting a sacred message,
For all of humanity,
Be as the leaves,
Love your earth.

I’m a nocturnal beast,
I adore the night,
I live for the night,
To gaze longingly at her lightless form,
The comely orb of the moon,

To many the night is chilling,
But to me it is solace,
A zen-like plane of existence,
What is anathema to some,
Is sedative to my soul,

With Lady Luna,
And the beautiful dark,
Elegantly coming together,
In a wondrous fantasia,
Of light and shadow,

We practice our waltz nightly,
Within a ballroom of stars,
Completely alone,
But only in my minds eye,

To many the night is frightful,
But to me it is eden.

You apathetic dragons,
In your boardroom hoards,
Remember us?
We little people,
The public,
The ever-hungry,

We were the ones,
You trod into the muck,
We were the ones,
You left out in the cold,
We were the ones,
You used in your schemes,

Our chump change wasn’t enough,
You had to take our homes,
And the skins off our backs,
But we’re only animals,
And when we feel cornered,
We’ll even hunt dragons,

When the resources expire,
And the fires burn low,
We’ll climb your piles of gold,
In our dingy rags,
On shattered limbs,
Mad hunger saliva,

You so-called elites,
You’re going down too,
Even your power won’t save you,
From the knives of the poor,
It’s the end for you too,
We’ll eat the rich.

Hello there inmates!

Here’s hoping that you’re all having a great day in quarantine. I’ve most certainly been enjoying the fantastic weather here in the UK the last couple weeks. I’ve not been out as much as I would have liked, but there you go! It is still seeming like a rather scary time out there. Very rare to hear good news right now, which is a pity. Too many people are losing loved ones. Deaths that many of which could perhaps have been avoided. But I am still fairly confident that we shall get through this virus business and return to regular (or not) life.

So, it’s time for another edition of the Harlequins writing music! We’ve finally come to part 30! The big number thirty! I’ve been really humbled by the response to these posts, especially since I find them really quite enjoyable to make. I’m going to do something slightly different for this week’s edition. I’ve only done this once before so far. I’m going to focus on a single musical artist that I truly adore and that regularly inspires me.

This time, the artist i’ve chosen is the Poets Of The Fall. This is an absolutely fabulous rock band from Finland. Pretty easy to listen to, with deeply emotive lyrics and a staggeringly high variety of styles in their songs. Their lyrics tend to be highly surreal and metaphorical. Also, they’re delivered by the tremendous vocals of Marko Saaresto! Quite possibly my favourite vocalist out there right now. I’m going to share with you five of my favourite songs by this energising band.

Join me as we delve into the singular musical minds of Poets Of The Fall!

Poets Of The Fall – Drama For Life

Poets Of The Fall – Late Goodbye

Poets Of The Fall – My Dark Disquiet

Poets Of The Fall – Moonlight Kissed

Poets Of The Fall – Daze

So there we have it for another special volume of the Harlequins writing music!

I hope that you give this truly marvellous band a try. Their music is so varied that I feel they will likely have something for everyone. They definitely deserve further exposure! Here’s the link to their website.

Also, I hope you look forward to tomorrow’s poem. It’s making me hungry just thinking about it…

If you like what I do here at the asylum, please consider supporting me over at the Ko-Fi page! Thanks for everything!

Until next week’s edition, have a very crazy day inmates!

I’m the Harlequin,
An agent of eccentricity,
An advocate for the quirky,
Delightfully awkward,
Comedically weird,
Cackling through a mad world,

I’ll never be part of a clique,
A cabal of critics,
Pretentious spiders,
Tittering at others’ expense,
An artist welcomes criticism,
But not mean-spirited bile,

You can chastise,
My painted smile shall remain,
You can vilify,
I’ll still doff my hat to you,
You could lambast,
I’ll simply continue my asylum jaunt,

Do not take this as arrogance,
Nor blasted bullheadedness,
I simply wish to be myself,
No clique,
I’ll burn on,
Alone if I must,

One hopes you can too.