Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category

There’s a fine line between justice and crime,
And some walk that line haphazardly,
They choose not to defer to authority,
And take matters into their own hands,
Vengeance rarely looks like a courtroom,
And it is never a portrait,
More often it is spent cartridges in an alley,
Bullet and hammer and blade,
These are the tools of the vigilante,
These are the judge and jury,
And the will behind them is the executioner.

These two vocal veterans,
Battle-hardened are they indeed,
Atop opposing monolithic podiums,
They are upon the field of discourse,
Wielding scholarly tongues as arsenals,
Knights jousting in the air before them,
Fleur-de-lys amidst silver,
Words as blades,
Morning stars in each argument,

Parry and riposte,
The fronts shift as voices are heard,
Aural dogfights between gentlemen,
Neither giving too much ground,
There is decorum in this violence,
This is no bloodbath,
Who shall concede?
It matters little,
As long as knowledge is garnered by each party.

Do you still hear her voice?
A solemn call in the brume,
As the nights grow more beastly,
As the winds grow ever in tempo,
And winters spectre peers from behind trees,

Do you feel her caress?
By the fireside,
Under that sedate harvest eve,
As the atmosphere swims in sandalwood,
And the breeze tears up that amber carpet,

Autumn comes every year,
And it is a season of entropy,
So tell me,
Do you still hear her voice,
Upon autumns mournful boughs?

I am not a glamourous man,
Not a Prince Charming,
More of a Grendel or Hyde,
Something akin to a blobfish in a shirt,
A weirdo,
An eccentric enemy of the state,

But when I place that crown upon my head,
That mad hatter headpiece,
Victorian fashion supreme,
I don’t care anymore,
I know that I’m finally me,
I’ll be able to grin,

With it comes the face paint,
A clown taking shape under its rim,
Madness coalescing with joy,
With this ensemble I can recover from normality,
But I fear it’d all be for naught,
If not for my top hat.

Hello there inmates!

How is your day going today? Having a good time? Well, I’m not! Just kidding. It’s been a bit of a rubbish week, but not enough to ruin my entire mood. Entirely being the operative word. I’ve had a couple days where getting out of bed has been a bit of a struggle I will admit. It’s a part of this prison we call life though eh?

I should probably mention that if this post looks a tad strange it’s because I’m attempting to write it out on my phone rather than a laptop. I’ve mentioned that I’m not a fan of the block editor pushed by WordPress before, but it seems it’s here to stay, so here goes. I would imagine today’s post will be shorter than usual in terms of my writing music posts.

I actually think that brings us to our musical theme quite cleanly. Did you see the clue? I think it gave it away quite easily too. Today’s musical theme is rage! Oh yes. We all have those days where we just have to scream and shout. Let out stress or show how angry we are about a particular subject. Some music is perfect for that, no? Heavy and loud. Fast-paced and bassy. Some music is designed to appeal to someone who is in the throes of fury. Some music comes from a place of anger and unhappiness with the ways of the world or government. I hope that today’s choices shall reflect that. It’s worth a try eh?

Rage Against the Machine – Killing In The Name Of https://www.ratm.com/home/

Pain – Shut Your Mouth https://www.painworldwide.com/

Foo Fighters – The Pretender https://www.foofighters.com/

Three Days Grace – I Hate Everything About You https://threedaysgrace.com/

Katy Perry – Part Of Me http://www.katyperry.com/

And there we have it for another week. How about that? Feeling your blood pumping? You heart rate growing? I can sat for one that mine is. I hope that you all give each of these artists a try. They all deserve it big time! It might cheer them up eh? Haha!

I can’t seem to do the social media links like usual. It would take me several days to work it out, so I’m going to leave you with this. Please follow or subscribe to me on the usual sites but if you need specific links then go and check out my contact me page. That’ll lead you right.

Until next week, have a very crazy day inmates!

They tell me that I’m alright,
And I may well be,
But a cruel occasion has reared its head,
Joy seems to be held behind a veil,
I simply don’t feel it,
I’m not sad either,
Just hollow,

Pleasure is a memory,
One that feels like an echo,
One that I’m unsure really happened,
I do smile ear to ear,
But it’s just sketched on,
I have a painted smile,
From the palette of social expectation,

Sensations turned down like a volume control,
Hobbies become trials,
Food and drink taste like static,
Humans become boogeymen,
It’s a curious phenomenon,
Perhaps of a mind cracking,
Or a man broken by the world.

I stand here upon a bloodstrewn field,
Bones are the grain we have sowed,
The apocalypse is come,
A sulphuric clarion call,

The eclipse rests above as our spectator,
As well as our reason for being,
A monochrome eye,
Our god in the sky,
A fiery circle of untold power,

A ritual was preordained,
A circle spelt out in moonlight,
We had been waiting,
Though still unnerved,

The circular hate is palpable,
A spheroid hate above us,
An insult to the moon,
We are an apocalypse in huddled corners,
A destructive hate held in raucous voices.

That glamourous material,
A full spectrum of colour in my hands,
Sand of the very stars,
Both kaleidoscopic and slapdash,
Beautiful but messy,
It reflects the light,
Turning the dull into prismatic disorder,
Rainbows in powder form,
Scaring away the droll,
It rains down upon my head,
It feels good,
And looks even better,
I have become an aurora borealis,
And my joy is flaunted in response.

I’ve heard upon the grapevine,
Violence is the music of the streets,
When a body hits the tarmac,
And no saviour is around to hear it,
Does it make a noise?

I say yes,
Each thump and kick is percussion,
A backset to our tarmac orchestra,
Each cracked rib is a shrill trumpet,
The screams are background static,

It’s a painful song,
Played by novices in hooded shirts,
They’re proud of their work nonetheless,
Perpetrators scurrying away is their crescendo,
Followed by applause and gurgles.

When the worlds teeth clamp too deep,
I retreat to my safe haven,
This fabric hovel,
Threads and strands as seedy as my form,
A veil against human elements,
It keeps me safe and secure,
A suit of tattered armour,
Acquired at the thrift store,

Clad in plum tabard,
I’m clear of any prying eyes,
Overzealous words,
And clasping hands,
It’s a simple thing,
To feel impervious,
But no force in this world can grant it,
Save for this haven of a textile.