The earth speaks out, Tectonic truths in waves, The rumbles come, And upon them comes the moleman, A priest in filthy vestments, Slouched and indistinct from ore, Conducting each quake in totality,
He preached in earthy tones, Each verb a stone to the head, He was an unassuming critter, As humble as his namesake, But his speech was steadfast, Sermons extolled through two teeth, Through unseeing eyes,
Despite his inhuman form, He meant no harm, This humble mole is just delivering epistles, From the titans writhing below, Magma and raging stone, Voices of the planet, Sounds we no longer hear.
The fickleness of spring gives way, The temperature rises, And with it comes the anticipation, Hope for this year, And the trees samba to a thankfully cool breeze, As we rejoice around the barbeque,
Sunbathing and sunburns, Beaches and azure waves, Picnics and chilled beverages, These temporary heavens, I adore them all, These hallmarks of a summer fulfilled.
As the timeless adage decrees, Man must explore, To blaze trails, Cross malms and seas, The very astral lanes above,
In our collective consciousness, There is a primal need for the next sight, Each step falls upon a new time zone, Conquering hazard and fauna both, Striving for the exotic,
The labour is a double-edged cutlass, Even as they discover new opportunities, Pray for the adventurers, It is their achievements that are exploited, Turned to corrupt purpose.
From this automobile window, Through tired eyes, I saw it, Or was it you? A shadow play, A shape illuminated from the horizon, Organised by a curiously grinning sun, A vision borne of questionable morality, A questionable past, It shifted before my eyes, One moment a woman, Identity unknown, The next a spectre of a mistake, Repeated perpetually in an obsidian pantomime, The one thing these shadows held in common? A peculiar element of nostalgia, Corrupted and cruel.
I hope you’re all having a wonderful day! Oh, and a wonderful week of course. Mine has been quite nice to be honest. I’ve been able to spend plenty of time with Tash which is always a gift. I’ve been more than happy with my recent scribblings. I have been thinking I want to head back in to my more horror-esque works. I’ve leaned a bit too far from that favourite genre of mine in my opinion. What do you guys think?
So, I’m going to be showing all of you some new music today. You’re surely aware of my ways by now! Haha! I have a theme for my musical choices today and it’s one I feel like I have done in the non-too-distant past. I could be imagining it, but we’ll see. Maybe one you lot can let me know.
Todays musical theme is history! Oh yes, anyone who has read my work in the past knows that I have a soft spot for history, particularly when it comes to military history. History is an excellent subject for musical expression, both in subject matter and in stylistic methods. They sometimes use instruments you hear less often, such as instruments used in marching bands and the like. Orchestral stylings are also often used in artists work when imagining historical scenarios. I’m going to try and get a variety of artists as always, it can be difficult at times though!
So, join me as we delve into the musical minds of nostalgic artists the world over!
I had to include a Sabaton song in there, I just had to! So, I hope that you enjoy all of my choices this week and if you’re so inclined, go and give these artists some love. They all deserve it in my opinion. Let me know what you think of this weeks choices and maybe suggest a theme for next weeks writing music? That would be cool!
How about some Harlequin social media nonsense? The asylum has a page over on Facebook, and account on Instagram and an account on Twitter as well. Also, if you enjoy what I do here at the asylum, please consider supporting me over on the Ko-Fi page. Thank you for everything!
We all exist as credit, Becoming farm machinery, Biology has given way to economy, Within that chest cavity lies no organ, But a leathery wallet, Never quite full enough, Your lifeblood never stretches quite far enough,
You are your credit score, You are your capital, Currency is your life’s work, Those above have deemed as such, Neon gods and wall street angels, In curiously lofty cathedrals, Such is the half-life we now lead.
Do not quake fleshlings, When I wail, When I shriek, I do not wish terror upon you, I yearn only to confess my sins, I don’t have many guests,
I once lived, I once loved, Travelled many malms, Thrust blades betwixt ribs, I too suffered through loss and heartache, I was a sinful man like any other,
I daresay much like you, So don’t be afraid of my ectoplasmic visage, Just lead your best life, You’ll end up like me regardless, A spectre, Screeching your sins into the night.
Poison is everywhere, Accepted as a necessity, Chemicals of every dire strain, Vile greens and eerie crimsons, Foreboding browns and unassuming clear liquids, Synthesized by white coats and labs, Injected into all our feed, They do not have baleful names, But do you know their makeup? I do wonder, Is every atom reputable? Chemistry is a risky game to play, With far too many snake eye variables,
To you who claim your body as you own, I ask you earnestly, Do you truly know what you take in, Which dire chemicals you ply?
Revels in the agora tell of one thing, The arrival of the vaunted tinker, He came far to our little town, Partnered with a carriage holding such marvels, A promenading carnival of cogs and brass, A treat for the needy,
He could fix anything, His craftsmanship bordering on sorcery, To the wheels and pins he was royalty, His golden hands commanded the broken shards to marry, Clocks and pans were his pawns, For a price in silver of course.
WorldofHarley 