Posts Tagged ‘Horror’

There will come a dark day,
As the candles grow delicate,
And your body finally feels lifes gravity,
When you must solemnly discuss,
With your kin and comrades,
About which kind of death you wish,
Ordained is the schedule,
But not so the modus operandi,

Do you run and yell impotently?
And be torn from the mortal coil by scythes force?
Do you have your time stolen by plague or happenstance?
And need to be carried beyond the styx by lifeless hands?
Or do you meet him calmly at your windowpane,
Take his cold hand and expire to the night?
These things must be prepared for,
Death is always approaching,

But will it be as a nightmare or old friend?
An ordeal or a release?

I do wonder to myself,
Is being nice such a strain?
All humans struggle with it,
Even this wretched clown,
Humanity is programmed to choose himself,
Niceness and generosity are akin to naivete,

But why not be a strangers sun?
Even during a stormy day,
Be a reason for someone to smile,
Give your loose change to a vagrant,
Hold the door for anybody,
Donate that stray dog a blanket,

Being nice is not a sign of weakness,
It is the strength to overlook mankind’s faults,
It could be a tiny gesture of in-consequence,
But maybe the only light someone will see,
Be the sun,
Be kind.

Every day I seem to witness,
With drawn eyes,
News stories that make me seethe,
Built-in inequality,
Bankers in the slaughterhouses of Wall Street,
Political duplicity,

Impotent old men upon the beaches of society,
Building sandcastles in imperial styles,
Houses of cards,
With sands of ground-up people,
Little voters at the bottom of the ladder,
Each spadeful shrieks in dissent,

The sands mount tall,
Kept strong on designs of grim architects,
The castles are patted down with manifesto lies,
The old men cheer as they rise,
When will the tide come,
And tear these foul empires down?

You hear her humming,
Bayu bayushki bayu,
She is hunting you in these trees,
Wood axe thirsty for gore,
Driven on by some unseen deity,

She is coming,
And the hum continues,

Cower in the dark,
Or within some closet,
Head in hands,
Quaking in your boots,
Watching horror movies in your palms,

She is coming,
And the hum continues,

Run quick my friend,
Lest you trip and fall to her axe,
Or receive a hatchet to the spine thrown,
And her lullaby shall continue,
Bayu bayushki bayu,

She is here.

Hello there inmates!

I hope that you’re all having a wonderful day. Not to brag or anything, but I know I am. Things truly feel like they’ve been looking up recently. A new home, some actual work and a new lady friend. The most important thing is feeling a great deal more free than I have in months. Smiles all round really! I don’t exactly know how to respond at times, I’m a bit too used to things being at least semi-gloomy. Haha! So I hope that you’re all keeping safe out there in this asylum of a world. It always warms my heart to see others happy.

So, enough boasting for one day eh? It’s time for some music. The Harlequins writing music to be specific! We’re so close to 50 now, it’s insane! I really ought to think of something different to do for it next week don’t I? We’ll see!

Well, lets share some musical artists shall we? For those of you who may be new to the asylum, I’ll be showing off five artists that I like to listen to while I write or when I’m fed up of the silence. I try to keep these as varied as possible, rarely sticking to one genre. Does that sound fun? I sure hope so!

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

Portishead – Machine Gun
https://www.portishead.co.uk/

Munro – To Villains
https://www.youtube.com/c/MunroMetal/

PAIN – Shut Your Mouth
http://www.painworldwide.com/home/

The Knife – Marble House
https://theknife.net/

Broken Peach – Bad & Ghostbusters
http://brokenpeach.com/

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

I hope that you enjoy some of these artists! At least try them out eh? They all deserve the attention, to be sure. A couple of these I’ve listened to since I was a teenager, so well over a decade now. They always entertain me and I hope they do the same for you guys too!

So we come to the climax of this particular post. It’s time for some social media peddling I think! The asylum has a Facebook page, a Twitter account and an Instagram page. Also, if you like what I do here at the asylum, please consider supporting me over at the Ko-Fi page! Thanks for everything my friends!

Until next week, have a very crazy day inmates!

Upon my latest walk of life,
On a whim I gawk skyward,
I declare to my internal voices,
Oh to be a cloud,
Able to shift and float and meld and melt,
An airy mote of freedom and playfulness,

My imagination fills with effervescent images,
Effortlessly skirting the earth,
Day and night with my cloud friends,
Rain dances and thundery cheers,
Oh to be a cloud,
Playing kiss chase under sun and moon both,

Oh to be a cloud,
Able to cry in rainstorms,
Whenever one requires,
Aqua to release any pain,
Privately or publicly,
Yet no soul would critique the sky,

Oh to truly be a cloud,
I continue walking these alleys though,
Knowing I shall never be one of them,
Yet I still smile to myself,
Things are looking up,
And I can always look skyward to my ethereal friends.

From this moldy pulpit,
I preach to you all,
We’re all inmates remember?
Of this world on the edge,
Of a social construction of normality,
Rickety and ill-maintained,

But I posit another way,
We take over this asylum of a world,
We as freaks are the future,
We’re an army of little weirdos,
Weapons of paintbrushes and lyrics,
Brothers and sisters in straitjackets,

We laugh loud and proud,
We listen to what we want,
We wear what finery we wish,
Anarchy in our identities and pronouns,
We may be eerily strange,
But we are more joyful than you can imagine,

We are our own culture,
The inmates,
Eccentricity is our standard and battle cry,
So let’s be the madness we embody,
Don your clown makeup,
Stand up and be yourself,

The world shan’t know what hit it,
And we’ll keep giggling.

I shall pick a rose,
Ignoring hesitant thorns,
As a floral symbol of love,
And present it unashamedly,
Even with my ghoulish form,
On my knees,
It is the currency,
I pay to see you smile,
And hear your heart sing,
I could deliver thousands shamelessly,
For you,
But it wouldn’t be nearly enough,
To translate what my heart feels,

For you.

A continuation of sorts of ‘Kabuto’.

Kneeling by myself,
I meditate in the morning rays,
The scent of last nights sake still on my lips,
Glancing to the floor before me,
I sight my trusty blade coated,
Each blood drip whispered of victory,

Strewn around me eviscerated are demons,
Negative oni,
They beset me in the twilight,
With claw and cynical words,
Unaware of my training,
I follow bushido now,

My new virtues are my strength,
And my katana follows suit,
Loyalty fell duplicity,
Honesty decapitated corruption,
Compassion cut down cruelty,
Courage disemboweled anxiety,

Once the deed was done,
I reflected upon my newfound ethics,
My positive armour and virtuous kenjutsu,
Evil will no longer bring me to my knees,
I’m a warrior now,
A samurai.

Who needs society?
Who needs normalcy?
We are not sheep,
No woolen coats here,
We are greater sapients,

Let’s be misfits,

Wear clown makeup and bright shades,
Dance unrestrained in paint,
Sing your favourite song off-key,
Whichever madness makes your little soul breath,
Live for yourself,

Live as a misfit,

Give mundanity an aneurysm,
Make that cruel pulse flat,
Let it die off,
Our souls wish to be unconfined,
They wish to dance among stars and zephyrs,

Become a misfit.