Some writing music: Part 56 -An Ode To Halloween-

Hello there inmates!

I hope you’re all having a wonderfully mad day today. I hope you’re also enjoying the dwindling days of October as well. It’s hard to believe November is so close already. But you know what that means! Halloween is near as well! My favourite day of the year. I’d happily give up Christmas for a second Halloween and no that is not a joke. Haha! As you may be able to tell, I’m feeling much better from my little slump last week. I’m still not quite sure what caused that but I’m glad its been given its marchin orders.

So things here at the asylum have been performing much the same as usual. Traffic seems to be down a bit at the moment which is a pity but I suppose things just go like that sometimes. As long as I’m not irritating folks with my work recently or something. I’d feel very bad in that situation.

So, with that aside, it’s time for this weeks edition of the Harlequins writing music! As halloween is fast approaching I figured I would create a “spooky” themed list today. I’m going to include six (yes that’s right, six!) of the freakiest and scariest artists that I could think of. We need some unsettling imagery in this place! Some of these are likely to be artists that I’ve shared before. Lets get some interesting music videos going eh?

Join me this Halloween eve week as we delve into the musical minds of scary artists the world over!

Mushroomhead – Graveyard Du Jour
http://www.mushroomhead.com

God Module – Spooky
http://www.godmodule.org

Mr. Strange – Last Ride/Road To Ruin
http://www.mrstrangemedia.com

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

Marilyn Manson – The Dope Show
https://marilynmanson.com

Broken Peach – Bad & Ghostbusters
https://m.facebook.com/thebrokenpeach/

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

That last one was sort of a joke. A very good song, but hardly threatening. I’m a big fan of all of these artists and I think they all deserve just all of the love. Give a clown a hand would you? Check them all out, you’ll not be disappointed. Everyone needs a bit of fear in their lives, no? Especially at Halloween!

So, heres the usual social media spiel! I have a Facebook page for the asylum, an Instagram page and a Twitter account. I share random photos from my mad life and also include clues for my poems a few hours ahead of their release. Also, if you enjoy what I do here at the asylum, please consider supporting me over at the Ko-fi page. Cheers and I doff my hat to you!

Until next week, have a great Halloween inmates!

Witching Hour

Do you ever lay awake at night?
Beyond the turn of midnight,
Wondering why you weren’t enough,
Or how you could have performed differently,
Your mind painting new timelines,
Wishes upon tired stars,

The devils hour is thought sinister,
But bad karma only comes to those deserving,
It has become a stage for the crestfallen,
The night breeze is a fitting backtrack,
A subtle chill to the bone,
Numbing the body,

The demons of the hour recognise heartbreak,
For even they are angels to some,
They shall not bring more torment upon you,
They know your heart is the prime malignant harrier,
They spy the anguish on your cheeks,
The inconsolable tears upon your pillow,

This is no nightmare,
No black magic at work tonight,
No witchcraft or demonology,
This is simply a soul breaking down,
Heartbreak in the twilight,
A melancholy man or woman watched over by the moon,

This is real.

The Immaterial

I am surrounded by the Immaterial,
Fingers and faces I cannot see,
Like a wind tunnel splaying out to the heavens,
I feel it swirling around me like unnatural wind,
It’s like being submerged in icy water that pulses,

I dont know from whence this supernatural force materialised,
A heretofore unknown elemental dynamic,
Whispers and hymns sung in flux,
Butterflies and figures waltzing in florid vividity,
Their colours unaffected by the dusts of the air,

I dont know what these spectres want from me,
Be they incorporeal apparition or trick of the mind,
The whispers that I can’t help but heed,
Be it sorcery or illusion,
The tingles upon my skin that I cannot feel,

I am haunted by the Immaterial,
A force that sends my senses in to spasm,
Disbelief sprouts from my very mind,
And yet I cannot deny it,
This ever-present wind that screeches to itself,
Neither friend nor foe.

Elephants

I sit reclined upon this scathing sand,
With the resort of the present behind me,
Belly laughs and dances and skipping,
And the broiling sea of the past before me,
Do-overs and regrets and flashbacks,

I spy herds of elephants migrating along the horizon,
A parade of weighty emotions,
Carrying memories myriad of years past,
Mirages of yesteryear images against the sunset,
Fizzing above the waves,

The herd continues unabated,
Each heavy footfall was pachyderm remembrance,
A weighty vision of events past,
My brain sits astride them gazing back at me,
Quizzically inquiring why I look upon their assemblage of years gone,

Why look back?
Why hark to the trumpeting?
Forget the elephants and pain,
They do not walk in your future.

Android

I read of a callous man,
Who sought to be more than a man,
He began welding and fixing all sorts of changes,
Supercomputer intellect and mechanised physicality,
Steel replacing sinew,

Changes had to made,
These bloody organs had to go,
Their expiry was too impending,
First his heart torn out,
Feelings and all,

Humanity twisting into electricity,
His family values and dynasty melted down,
To become ore for his new frame,
Friendships thrown in the furnace,
His love for life became science fiction,

He slept in an old junkyard in the city,
He dreamed in binary,
Putting two and two together and getting seven,
Conclusions made in angst,
Errors in code,

True he is now more than a man,
Now he’s just man-made,
Now he is just metal,
Now he’s just a ghost in the machine,
Lost to data.

Samhain Rising

The best occasion is on my twisted mind,
The chilling palpitations have arisen,
I feel my skull begin to chatter,
The night of the harvest approaches,
And my desire to get spooky has taken over,
Let’s allow our hair down and our arms to drop off,

Let us dance under the disco ball of the moon,
Our cemetery dance floor awaits,
Amidst pumpkins and fallen skulls,
Music comprised of banshee wails and lycan howls,
Bear your own skulls friends,
The party of this crazy year begins,

Passing the overbearing bouncers in hockey masks,
We drank potions of all ilks,
I did the thriller with corpses,
A karaoke duet with something from the swamp,
I won arm wrestling against the Frankensteins monster,
A witch pecked me on the cheek,

We’ll have a grand old freaky time,
Boredom will run away in terror,
So raise your claws and tentacles and brooms,
All my monster chums out there,
Happy Halloween season to my fellow freaks,
Happy Samhain.

In The Walls

There are things within these walls,
Things that follow room to room,
Things that slither and writhe,
Things that peek through cracks,
Things that chew on rats,
Souls not at rest,
The cavities,
These veins of this old house,
They squirm like black blood,
They thrash at the games of these devilkin,

I hear them,
Clawing and giggling and scratching,
Tittering and scraping and taunting,
Curses in a menagerie of voices,
They’re trying to get out,
You’ll hear them tap at night,
Searching for a chink in the houses armour,
They call out to me in frothy tongues,
They just want to play,
They only want to break another toy,

They say their last one fell apart.

Some writing music: Part 55

Hello there inmates!

It’s your friendly neighbourhood Harlequin here once again! I hope you’re all having a grand old day and that you’re keeping safe as well. This week seems to be kicking my posterior a bit I’m afraid. Nothing is wrong at all, yet I’ve been feeling a tad worn down. Perhaps I’m not eating or sleeping too great. Its true I have found myself waking up a lot at night in the last few days. I’m most certainly not a fan. Here’s hoping for an improvement in the days to come.

On the positive side, its time for the next edition of the Harlequins writing music! A cause for celebration no? Or is that just in my head? Haha! So I have compiled another five artists that I enjoy listening to while writing and chilling out. A couple of these are actually recent finds. Some darker artists just in time for Halloween.

So, join me as we delve into the musical minds of outstanding artists the world over!

The Rasmus – In The Shadows
http://www.therasmus.com

SKYND – Elisa Lam
http://www.skynd-music.com

ODDKO – Disobey
http://www.oddko.com

Crazy Town – Butterfly
http://crazytownband.net

Deep Purple – Smoke On The Water
https://deeppurple.com

And there we have it for another printing of the Harlequins writing music!

Some interesting bands there eh? I recommend them all as I always do. However, I shall offer one word of warning. The band SKYND in particular can be unsettling, their videos at least. All of their music is based around true crime you see, so there can be some grim subject matter. Regardless I recommend all of these bands, they all deserve the attention and love!

So, let’s get on to my usual social media spiel eh? The asylum has a Facebook page, an Instagram page and a Twitter account. Come and show some love over there! Also, if you enjoy what I do here at the asylum, please consider supporting me over at the Ko-fi page. Thank you so much my friends!

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

Insulation

Floorward I weep,
I find myself a worn down soul,
A derelict and frigid mansion,
Filled with cobwebs of regrets strewn over furniture of lies,
My furnaces went dark ages ago,
On a break up beyond memory,

But you have come to me,
Soothing warmth that you are,
Installed anew within my walls,
Lips and caresses of soft lining,
Reigniting my aged kiln,
Bringing red passion to my corridors and cheeks anew,

You’ve brought this house to life again,
Returning my boiler to the sweltering fever it once was,
A fire of romance,
You’ve insulated my heart,
Enabling it to thaw my frozen veins,
You make my hovel of a life livable,

You make it worth living in.

The Lancer

Atop his scarred mare,
Beside his beleaguered comrades,
Hussar and dragoon and cuirassier,
The lancer wipes muck from his uniform azure,
Harvest of a cold morning scrap,
Barely a mile taken,
A score of lives paid,

And the general sips his wine,

A reluctant warrior,
A soldier true and father twice,
Thrall to the kings coin,
Yet the battery fire recommences,
And the order to charge is given,
A L’attaque!
The flagging lancer blasts ahead,

And the general sips his wine,

Shrapnel and flesh collide all around his advance,
The lancer picks out his mark,
The grist for his lance,
Akin to a Romeo delivering his final romantic plea,
Direct to the foes heart,
Inspecting his handiwork he saw his victim to be no more than fourteen summers,
Somewhere a mother wails,

And the general sips yet more wine.