I’ve been travelling space for eons, Been across the stars, I languish in the cold periphery of the expanse, Getting my cardio across galaxies, How do I survive you ask? I consume worlds and moons whole, Oh yes, I’ve stripped countless planets, Subsisting on dirt and magma Both flora and fauna are my entrees, Finishing the atmosphere for dessert, Then on to the next celestial meal,
What am I? They call me the great devourer, But they give me too much credit, I’m just a hungry god, Doing what gods do, Enacting our will on hapless mortals, So I continue my culinary journey, And I’ve heard of a new feast, Some jade and sapphire beauty, Laden with all manner of delicacies, They call it Earth, Sounds rather delectable.
At the end of the world, Under magmatic skies, A place I see in my fevered dreams, Only one thing still walks the wastes, Man had become a monster, A titan of flesh and bone, An amalgamated frankenstein of the populace, Eight billion bodies bound together, Making up muscles of great scale, Still trying to reach out, Still crying out in discord, Each step was met with cracks and tearing, Bone organ and ligament, Agony fuelling each movement,
Humanity had finally become what it deserved, A collosal corpse, Its transit was a cacophony of pain, Even under the distant rumbles of its tread, I could still hear the wailing.
The city wears its funeral pall, I still remain here in solitude, Shaking in the moonlight slivering betwixt timbers, Hearing the city breathing its last, Only to be consumed by fang and claw,
There is blood on the cobbles, I can smell it now, For my blight has altered something, The fever is rising, And my pulse quickens in concert,
Only a sweaty and sporadic sleep do I receive, My dreams grow frenetic, I find myself in a boreal glade, Running on all fours in hunger, Before tearing the jugular from the doe,
Something in me has changed, I see it in the grimy mirror, A bestial shift of my features, Hair more plentiful than my memory claims, Canines seeming too long,
The howls outside feel less grisly, More the call of kin, I’m drawn to join their prayer each night, I see now this malady is a gift, This domestic cell won’t deny me for long.
The city grows unwell, A pall of malady and madness has arisen, A plague like no other, The sane can only retreat to their homes, But it’s unclear who is more sick,
This hovel has become my oubliette, I’ve not seen the sky in days, Boarded windows and painted crosses, I haunt it in gasps and coughs, My own blood turning imposter,
Those left outside still congregate, I hear their confessions at night, Voices once familiar have grown bestial, Tongues more canine than human, And I quake in my bedlinens,
They have changed, I catch glimpses through my window, The light of torches and clang of rusty blades, Wolven howls and frenzied hunts concluding, I suffocate my lantern in terror,
This malady cannot be natural, An alien cold takes over, My own mind grows muddied, My dreams are the pageant of old gods, Am I too to succumb?
The waves are the embodiment of mystery, An oblivion of crushing weight and shadow, More unknown than the dark side of the moon, Though its wane and wax has a rhythmic aria to it, The abyss has a song all its own, A dread tune, Like tentacles licking at your eardrums, Distorted static of whalesong, The crunch of crabshell underfoot, Its lyrics manifest as thalassophobia, A warning in the mind, Sharks teeth and squid beaks upon your nape, Salt and brine on your tongue, The knowledge that man is not welcome.
How are you all? Having a fun week? My week has been reasonably busy, both in writing and “IRL” stuff. I’m not a great fan of adulting! Is anyone? Responsibility can be such a drag can’t it? Anywho, it’s been a productive one. I’ve been really happy with what I’ve produced this week. I realise a few of my poems have been reasonably heavy in content, particularly on the subject of depression and self-hate. I appreciate the few comments of support and concern I received, but I assure you I’m doing alright. Writing about it is really the best way to deal with it. Is anybody else like that?
So, it’s a wednesday which means it’s time for some writing music! Again, there is a theme for todays post. I dropped a clue for it on the social media and I wonder if anybody had any theories!
The theme for todays edition of the Harlequins writing music is horror! Oh yes, probably among my favourite genres of film and reading material. From the shadow of Nosferatu to the dream demon Freddy Krueger! The racing pulse brought on by a tense killer chase or the lingering dread of a unnatural haunting. Many of these things have greatly influenced my writing and even inspiring specific poems (such as Slasher and Horror Icons). It influences a great many music artists as well. Even the most horrific imagery has been used in many artists work, whether it be in the musical construction itself or the use of graphic imagery in music videos or the bands image. I love monsters and true crime, two subjects that many music artists have latched on to in their musical repertoire. So, do you want to hear some? As you can imagine, some of these choices may contain explicit material, for those worried about such things.
Now, join me as we delve into the musical minds of frightful artists the world over!
Spooked out enough? I was spoiled for choice if I’m honest; I had ideas such as creepy lullabies, some other electronica, countless metal bands and every painted freak out there. No offence to painted freaks of course, I am one! I just intended to choose a good variance in the genres and artists, because above all, the music is the primary reason. I think these artists show different kinds of horror. Monsters, mad killers and ghosts, oh my! I hope you enjoy my choices and aren’t over-scared by them!
So, how about some freaky social media spiel! The asylum has a presence on Facebook, an account on Instagram and a page on Twitter. Please think about following and liking me on those, it really helps me out! Also, if you enjoy what I do here at the madhouse, please consider supporting me over on the Ko-Fi page! Thanks for everything!
There are things out there, Things older than Father Time, Heretical creatures of eyes and tentacles, Multitudes of alien flesh, Designs impossible in nature,
Rejected by sunlight, They regard the world as fodder, To look upon them is to witness insanity manifest, To combat them madness itself, Simply ask the husks of their victims,
We’ve been told, If it bleeds we can kill it, But what if it doesn’t bleed? What if it is of the stars? An abomination of a god.
The day finds its demise, Tossing and turning, My rest is interrupted by eldritch fingers, Emanating a foul energy, Tentacles in my mind,
I dream of fathoms deep, To airless environs, Where even fish dare not venture, Waters claimed by spectres and arcane chants, Where the sun and sanity both drown,
Something stirs, Eyeing the surface with a million oculi, A million definitions of mad hunger, Watching a world it seeks to extinguish, A million maws curling into grins.
I heard tell of a creature,
Of a freakish beast that defies description,
A being of abominable flux,
An insult to nature,
With a form only describable with foul anecdotes,
It’s body spurns logic or sanity,
Tentacles like rotten eels,
An oily rat king writhing against reason,
A tongue that prattles heresy,
Uttering sounds like glass shattering post-collision,
Skin of indeterminable shade and composition,
Teeth attached to fingers attached to hair,
I recoiled at the sight,
A visual stench I could not wash away,
A memory that reeks of nonsensical atrocity.
Do you hear the chanting?
Esoteric words upon piscine lips,
Hymns out to sea,
A burg willfully forgotten by humanity,
A fishermans haven turned nightmare,
Towers held aloft by stone tentacles,
This decrepit ruin of a town contains a dark secret,
Even the moon looks away in fear,
Prayers made amidst undertow and rock pools,
Bubbles and salty mist rise up in chorus,
A cacophony of groans and briny gargles,
Praise to a god not dead but sleeping,
At once the chanting dies away,
A dire shape appears under the waves,
A hunger unknowable,
An apocalypse summoned,
WorldofHarley 