Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category

This facade I wear,
It’s the other me,
That alter-ego,
That character,
The Harlequin,

The top hat,
The long coat,
The mad cackling,
It’s not me,
It’s him,

Face-paint is all that separates us,
Remember the grin is painted on,
The laughter is false,
Costumes and masks,
It’s all a facade,
I’m just me,

A sad clown,
Impersonating a performer,
A showman,
I’m a misanthrope,
Playing at being a thespian,
An actor,

We are separate men,
Though we are one,
I’m no jester,
I’m not laughing,
I’m not smiling,
I’m not him,

I’m not alright.

The world often becomes too much,
Its weight burdening me relentlessly,
The trials wear me down,
Shark-toothed as they are,
And when those jaws close in,

I escape into video games,
Those safe places where anything is possible,
Make-believe worlds that never existed,
Their denizens fanciful and vivid,
Worlds that are perhaps better,

I can become a valiant hero,
A grizzled soldier,
A wizard,
Even a tyrant or villain,
Anything but myself,

The stress dissipates,
Like undressing,
Like dropping a veil,
A colossal weight departs,
The strain is naught but memory,

Perhaps it’s a drug,
While others have nicotine or the bottle,
The needle or the pill,
I have the gamepad,
But we all sin right?

We all have stresses don’t we?

A young boy was born,
Rosy-cheeked innocence,

A young boy was brought home,
By beaming suburban parents,

A young boy began to play,
Mud and toy soldiers,

A young boy became a student,
Shy and introverted,

A young boy was bullied,
Beaten to tears,

A young boy continued to play,
Dark rooms and razor blades,

A young boy cried for help,
No help came,

A young boy began to crack,
His innocence beginning to fade,

A decision was made,

A young boy became an active shooter,
Clad in trenchcoat,

No more tears,

A young boy was shot dead,
By a good guy with a gun,

He was just a young boy.

Literature is alchemy,
Writing is a form thaumaturgy,
The mind provides the alkahest,
The hands follow the formula,
The great fire,

The pen is my caduceus,
This desk is my still,
The page a crucible,
The ink is my aqua vitae,
The words are my magnesia,

I reduce the words to flux,
Tear up their humours,
Coagulate the phrases,
Acids and alkalis,
Feelings and thoughts,

Boil down the context,
Mercury gold and silver,
Nouns verbs and adjectives,
Distill the words,
To create a poetic potion,

This great work,
It could be my lapis philosophorum,
My philosophers stone.

Through this glass,
Is it a window?
I see you,

Your countenance is clear as day,
Perhaps you see me too,
Trying to signal you,

Something keeps us apart,
A vacuum of memories,
And past actions,

This crystalline field between us,
A killing ground of intentions,
A reflective barrier,

Its surface is chilling to the touch,
It’s made up of our pasts,
Times we had gone by,

And fear of shattering it,
Terror of reigniting the flame,
And the pain,

We dare not fracture it,
So we longingly glance,
Across this glass mile.

Hello there inmates!

So, it’s been yet another long while since I made a post like this. Once in 2014 and once in 2017. Oh my word!

But I felt that with a whole “new year, new me” mentality, I would display some of my older works. I realise it can be a slight pain to explore the archives here at the asylum. So I felt I could display some of my favourites from my past poetry and dark fiction. I believe I’ve said it before but I do fear it’s somewhat self-indulgent, so apologies for that!

Poetry

The Master Thief – A slightly satirical look at capitalism.
The Stranger – A silly little poem about wandering at night.
I’m Not Atlas – A poem about not feeling strong enough.
Cannibal Heart – A dark poem about a cannibal, or perhaps a lover.
Video Games – Simply applying video games and puns to life.
A bloody legacy – Part 1 of a “trilogy” of sorts.
Festival Of Blood – Part 2.
Cerberus – Part 3.
The Painted Man – A story of a man shaped by society.

Fiction

Bob – The monster hunter Ryan Sargent talks about his ‘partner’.
Seeing through the lies – Ryan Sargent talks about a past experience.
The Asylum Mythos: The Hag-Man – A bizarre inmate speaks.
The Asylum Mythos: The Pint-Sized Cult – The Hag-Man tells a horrific story.

So there we go! Quite a variety there eh? I hope some of you find something you like among all of that mess. Every piece of writing I create is important to me, so I’d appreciate it immensely if you would let me know what you think.

I am currently hard at work on some new poems and scribblings. In fact, I do expect to have one done within the next day or so. Also, I’m attempting to begin a new project soon, related to serial killers and criminology, combined with supernatural elements. That was actually why I included the Ryan Sargent stories. It’s all related you know! Thank you all for your time my darling fellow inmates!

Have a very crazy day!

Good day inmates!

Hope you’re all having a suitably kooky and enjoyable day today! It’s been a while since we’ve been here, hasn’t it? It’s been far too long since I made one of these posts (and frankly, too long since I was active here at the asylum!). It’s a comeback special of the Harlequins writing music, would you believe?! Or at least that’s how I see it.

So what is going to make this writing post different? If i’m honest, not a great deal. It’s just a big deal personally cause i’ve not been active in so long. But i’ll tell you what. The voices in my head said I could have six songs/bands for a change from the usual five. Isn’t that kind of them?

So, without further adieu, join me as we delve into the musical minds of innovative artists the world over!

Ghostemane – Nihil
https://www.ghostemane.com/

Forlorn Hope – Rifles
https://forlornhope.uk/

Eric Clapton – Cocaine
https://www.ericclapton.com/

Lil Peep – The Brightside
https://www.lilpeep.party/

Santana – Black Magic Woman
http://www.santana.com/

Babymetal – PA PA YA!
https://www.babymetal.com/en/tour/

So there we have it for yet another volume of the Harlequins writing music! That was quite a motley selection, wasn’t it? I alway enjoy doing these posts, and i’ve missed it in all honesty. As always, I hope you give all of these artists a gander. They’re all rather exquisite. Also, I decided to include a rather diverse set this time, so hopefully there’s something for everyone eh?

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

A friend once told me,
I may be eccentric,
A conflux of wasted potential,
A lunatic,
I’ll never get far this way,

I beg to differ,
I simply walk a wildly different path,
While your path holds domestic bliss and career goals,
Mine holds glamorous noise and dancing clowns,
A cane in my hand and a top hat atop,

You live your grey life,
Chastise me if you will,
I’ll still be jaunting,
I’ll still be grinning,
The crisp earth will welcome us both all the same.

The pillow to my side,
Whereupon caressed a head not my own,
Has quite a special scent,
A scent that mesmerises,

The scent swirls in my mind,
Filling me with calm and zeal,
A menagerie of sweet thoughts,
A roiling euphoria,

A reminder of the day before,
And the darling who graced it,
A sleeping beauty,
And a waking one,

An ally,
All curves and pale skin,
A companion,
All mascara and piercings,
A true friend.

The Land of the Free quakes,
Disaster looms above,
Or so it’s said,
Many believe it to be so,

Neighbours look sideways at one another,
Rights become targets,
For the firing squad that is corruption,
Few tears are shed,
Even fewer protests are uttered,

Division and hatred,
These weapons of mass destruction,
Maybe orchestrated by a court of white,
Filled with a rogues gallery,
In business suits and colourful badges,

Led by something of a jester,
With delusions of grandeur,
Possessing a nationalist baton,
And a dangerous red button,
Poking the bear and dragon,

The time has come,
A red mushroom cloud erupts,
In the shape of a pachyderm,
The Land of the Free is no more,
The world is ending.