Life is a rusty pier,
Ruined by the eons,
With a meat grinder at the end,
A slaughterhouse on the river styx,
Bladed rollers slavering for gore,
Put there by a deific butcher,
The railings are strewn with warnings,
Attempting to mitigate our doom,
Yet they seem to be in languages,
Unknown to us,
Tongues of hope and diligence,
The wave below mock us,
Hissing jeers,
And throwing insults of mist,
The sea knows all as they say,
We’re given birth at the beginning,
In blood and pain,
Tagged with an expiration date,
Only to traverse this pier,
Towards further agony,
Further despair,
Meat for the industrial hunger,
I think I spy an assassin bug,
Stalking amongst the twigs,
A reduviid killer,
Aspect of mantis,
Proclivity of spider,
A tiny predator of a huge world,
Or is it a tiny one?
Does the world belong to the bugs?
Cloaked in the corpses of ants,
Previous ravaged conquests,
Both armour and disguise,
Its proboscis twitches,
Secreting a lethal nectar,
Expecting to digest defeated internals,
Fodder for an emotionless killer,
I see it close in on an innocent,
Unsuspecting soul on a branch,
It strikes,
All wings and blades,
Corrosive saliva injected,
Reducing chitin to husk,
Its grim meal complete,
It gazes over at me,
Eyeing me hungrily,
I’m sure I have a gremlin on my back,
Like a corpse from the past,
A beating heart under the floorboards,
I know not his motive,
Merely that he enjoys to scathe me,
He’s a creature of vitriol,
A sprite of malice,
I can only feel his weight,
He hates me,
And I hate him,
Gripping tightly to my shoulders,
Biting and scratching,
Whispering cruel nothings into my ear,
Reminding me of that dark time,
And those times,
The time with the fists,
And the coldness,
The time with the tears in the black,
He hates me,
And I hate him,
But you know,
I grow weary of his exaltations,
I seek a new life,
I’m going to grab him by the horns,
And suplex that wretch into the earth,
Crack every malicious chopstick in his body,
No more negativity,
I have a life to lead,
I once had a dream,
An esoteric dance of the mind,
A story of astrological language,
I made a raft out of fingernails,
Crafted by strength of Taurus,
With the helping hand of a ram of course,
Upon cautious and melancholic stone,
To skirt a blue sea of pisces scales,
For miles I voyaged,
Waters of empathy,
Drifting upon balanced winds of Libra,
Winds of expression,
Dodging ornery waves of piscine goats,
Sent by the aquatic bearer of divinity Aquarius,
I escape by the skin of my teeth,
I disembark above Cancer rockpools,
To be greeted by conjoined twin dockhands,
Eager to assist,
Onward to bend the knee to a lion king,
And his assertive fiery mane,
His scorpion royal guard eye me suspiciously,
Barbed halberds at hand,
His equine archers nock arrows in caution,
Tension grew like noxious clouds,
When it seemed their patience had run thin,
The hand of his princess out cast,
Her name Virgo,
The other stars faded,
An embrace commenced,
But then I awoke,
And the stars were gone,
Only sunrise remained.
It’s been another crazy time since last wednesday. Here’s hoping that you’ve all been having a nice time. Hope you’re keeping as safe as possible! The UK is beginning to slowly slide towards a modicum of normality after Covid, with the majority of businesses and services being allowed to open in the coming week or two. There are odd exceptions, but we’re getting there I suppose. It’s hard to say if it’s too soon or not, but it appears to be relatively safe here on the Isle of Wight at least. It’s been wonderful to see and hear how well things have been going in New Zealand. All celebrations and life anew. I have a friend who lives there who says it’s a great feeling and I can totally believe it!
I’ve still been working hard to get more exposure for the asylum on social media though, I must confess, I don’t think i’m very good at it! Haha! I’ll include links to the social media pages at the end of this post because i’m a hopeless shill I suppose. With that said, i’ve been very humbled (as always) by the absolute darlings who grace these pages. You really don’t know how much of a boost you all give me.
It’s time for another post of the Harlequins writing music. And what a post we have for you today! Five more awesome musical artists to perhaps whet your personal appetites for creativity. Or perhaps even just to chill in the sun to. I wonder what marvels we have for you today! The voices haven’t told me ahead of time, I swear!
So, join me as we delve into the musical minds of catchy artists the world over!
So there we have it for yet another tome of the Harlequins writing music!
That was quite a variety wasn’t it? I hope you all give some of these artists a try as always. They definitely all deserve it, especially the lesser-known ones. With that said, they’re all better known than me! Haha!
So, on to the shilling I suppose. I have a Facebook page, Twitter page and an Instagram page. I post some random stuff on each of these, as well as clues for each days poem a few hours beforehand. Sometimes I post weird photos of my adventures in “Real Life” or just random objects in my room. As always, if you like what I do here at the asylum, please consider supporting me over on the Ko-Fi page! Thank you as always!
Until next week, I doff my hat to you and wish you a very crazy day inmates!
So I awake to the pain of the sun,
No reaper this time,
Not this time,
Another day,
Another dud,
Sleep was death without the commitment,
But I’m a dedicated soul,
So lets rise from this silk crypt,
The corpse rebels,
But enough straining gets it going,
Disquiet at the breakfast table,
A smoke or three,
Some whisky in my cornflakes,
The sun keeps burning,
Lets see what jokes god can pull today,
Daylight is oppressive now,
Longing for lightning or comet,
To the salt mine,
Got to win that cheese to prolong the punishment,
Hip flask break time,
Turn the spine and arms to putty,
Longing for my noncommittal death,
Yearning for my mausoleum,
Both tonight and at the finale.
I am chased,
By hounds in white and blue,
My dress torn in the panic,
They slaver monstrously,
I know not why,
I only performed my nightly dance,
An energetic noctural song,
It was a frenetic dance I’ll admit,
Sensual and rabid all at once,
All rondos are,
I know my dance partner was somewhat loud,
He was inebriated and untried after all,
He was a simple drunken sap,
But I’ve elevated him to art,
My dance partner fell down,
Maybe the dogs want to help him,
He shrieked wicked ecstacy,
He painted the stage in such crimson,
A scent of iron and sweat,
With my terminal flourish,
The rondo of knives,
Each step punctuated with a jab,
Each stab releasing ribbons,
As he collapsed wide-eyed,
I asked him if I was a beautiful dancer,
No answer,
My knife applauded at least,
My biggest fan,
WorldofHarley 