To this clownish drudge, Writing is everything, A hobby, A passion, But most of all, An obsession, A mania within these bones,
It’s not optional, Not anymore, If the words don’t come out, If the thoughts aren’t vented, They begin to chew me away, Like maggots in a bloated corpse, Like exsanguinating leeches,
This implacable need to create, It’s the greatest gift, But the most harsh of curses, But the finest art is one with suffering, A wordsmith must craft, A writer must write, I must write,
The end growled, So I put on some body armour, A flimsy stab vest, To protect me from the bite of her exit, And indeed did a knife come, Sharp as a sour tongue, And heated red in a lovers forge, An anvil rendered mute thereafter, There was no malice in the blades drive, Nor the hand behind it, Just a soul scorned, My vest prevented a terminal break, But the strike bruised all the same, Freezing a heart in its cell, Forever more.
We’ve been savagely chased from yesteryear, Demons of loss and pain at our backs, Like Jack Russell’s nipping at our heels, Chunks of us left in the last year, Physically and emotionally, Not all survived the rout,
Yet we must look forward, It’s a mad new world, Time waits for no man, The days ahead are in flux, Waiting to be crystallized by new experience, New faces and affairs to be held in glass,
But take note, It is yet unclear if this new year will also maim, That same glass may be jagged, But our assault must be sustained, For time will not tarry, So we ought face the year like a hopeful sunrise.
It was unclear what invoked this detonation, The world has many stray matches, A look, A word, A revelation, But erupt it did nonetheless,
All I can glimpse is burning confetti, Metal shards of a man, Sharp as a tongue of a soul in pain, The heat feels like tar on the skin, As if I can touch the heartache in its mucus, Munitions from a heart and mind imploded,
But observe, Those piles of singed petals and broken glass, That is what it looks like, When a life becomes shrapnel, Reduced to a sorry wreckage, No phoenix here.
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?
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.
That lyre, Apollos hand-me-down, An instrument of antiquity, That sound, Each tone more shrill than the last, Thundercracks across string, I hate it, I hate those aural pangs,
They scrape across my cranium, Nails upon chalk, Leaving invisible scars, There is nothing divine about this sound, No virtue from its turtle shell frame, It is a miserable dirge of angst, Plucked free by the fingers of demons, Inflicting naught but malady.
A sickening snap, Metallic jaws latching on, An agonising let-up in my journey, This travail through life, It was a clumsy miscalculation, A wrong turn, Blades of foul intent, Or perhaps a deterring voice, As cutting as any trap,
Bones splinter, As my plan is crushed, Smashed betwixt dragons teeth, On my path forward, A trail into foggy terrain, It is laden with such menaces, Each mutilated step, A new trial of metal jaws to struggle with, Ever after.
Somethings in my head,
A beastly array of pains and throes,
I can feel it clawing at the walls,
And all the pain that entails,
I know not what is in there,
A bloody drum kit played by an ogre,
Or a cat with too many legs,
A stack of plates like the tower of pisa,
Or a feverish jazz band,
A penance forced on to my brain,
It hurts,
Pangs like bolts through the veins,
I grow weary of it,
The only question upon my lips,
When will it dissipate and give me rest?
Life is a long dusty road,
We all know it in our being,
It is a foregone conclusion,
Built to test and vex,
Winding and windswept,
But it’s a road of jagged nails,
Bent and mismatched by travelers before you,
Karmic spiderwebs and societal roadblocks,
We walk it in agony,
Our boots split and feet skewered,
Each step forcing out more moans of pain,
Yet we march on,
With a pace set by our heartbeats,
Ashen-faced yet galvanized,
This serrated path cannot stop us though,
Nothing can stop us,
The end of this road is a cruel joke to some,
Our reward for our torment,
I fear there is naught but a red sun,
And a doting incinerator at the end,
Yet we march on,
Life trundles on,
Nails cannot break our spirits.
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!
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!
WorldofHarley 