Film: the man who had a power and then turned evil or good
needle striped houses
and polka dot trees
servile tulips that bend at the knees in
hanging basket greeting
of a queen so rarely seen
except for every day after 5
candy striped husbands
kids that skip unpleasantly
chipper to school
neighbours who swing
in Whoville unseen
grassy assed teenagers
stupidly keen on Ricky for some reason
with his sleeves a different colour than his jersey
and that jock swag of a chin too large
and an eye in perpetual wink
Stretching out ahead
Vast narrow wind
Stringy path – goat tracked
Grass matted like my hair at the back when I can’t be bothered to comb.
Poke holes in soil
Dew in the morning on the “washing” line
I’m an adder, swishing through, coiling up
A letter and I have wings and claws and
Fear inciter (twisted)
Blowing up bin-breath
Antisocial hoarder of things that mean different to me.
A magpie value
Scrooge McDuck Dragon whip my tail and yawn, as you creep past me
My great yellow eye pierces your body,
Drop in fear and I make you dance, twirling dolly with scaled fingers,
Black glinting talon twirls.
Scar in the lair – you can be Rowan Atkinson’s blue bird
The noise of the people
The song in my heart
Swollen heads and black eyes
Vacant and cruel
Wobbling toddlers without mercy
Probing waxy fingers
Expressionless narrow mouth set in grey
Bulbous head atop sympathetic frailty.
Limited imagination in our consciousness creates
How long have we been falling back on vampires for?
They’ve been “sexy”, they’ve been Gollum Nosferatu
Long in the tooth blood-sucker.
Frigging werewolves again
Prowling around in their tartan,
Classic mirror scene seeing the beast within
Oh the horror,
The imaginable, overdone horror.
Monsters who blend in,
Vacuous gases threaten,
Illness, bacteria, death embodied.
Fear is a creeping darkness
Little girls with discordant chimes and knives,
Standing over the safe place – the bed, the intrusion of it all,
The relative vulnerability of the sleeping figure and the loomer poised to take violent action.
The suspense of a hand on one’s shoulder, chilling.
Literally anything can be scary, if there’s enough of them, or very few –
Just the wrong amount.
Puppy – lovely.
Skip full of puppies – scary.
Fly – OK, mildly gross shit eater.
Drawer full of flies – disturbing.
Forest – normal, only potentially frightening
One singular tree growing through a house or out of someone’s face – well, you get the idea.
An idea can make anything uncanny, I’m looking at jars now, The jars on my brother’s shelf – they’re filled with seeds, and grains and things.
But imagine if they were filled with souls, or eyeballs, or whole worlds and the power to shake the world consumed someone and drove them to a frightening place where they became the voyeur of the jar people,
a little god, and they did experiments and felt the guilt but carried on, and took it out on the innocent jar people and crushed them.
Then that’d be scary-
Or it could be scary, with the right filming and the right acting,
(Grimace in the right place,
Play up that moral struggle and settle on what no one wants you to do)
the right lights and unnerving music.
I wrote this before bed, how silly of me. Typical.
Sickening behaviour by the protagonist once again.
Where does one go when Nihilism becomes cliche?
Trends pulse and pop.
Do you remember when everyone was into sloths?
Buy plastic pastels
Sparkly notions dreamlike.
Then you get the backlash, the opposite fashion
Black nails again.
Pearlescent greens and blues
We need things to suck up our sickness,
Rolling ideas gain traction
And become popular.
Cats are a constant.
The places we escape to are only so original
We can help each other find sanctuary.
Share, spread the good word.
Things grow and curl around our culture,
Become our reality.
Almost infinite complexity that we’re wrapped up in and made of.
I work to understand my own beliefs and where they come from, I’m certain of little, although I’ve learnt so much,
I want to be a gentle generation.
I want us to do the right thing.
I just thought I’d share a post about some of the music I’ve been listening to lately, I tend to revolve in the same musical space for quite a while because I just get so happy existing there. Also, just a note, I write about two artists here, but I give them quite unequal word time, that’s for no real reason, other than the fact that I’m just quite unmeasured and if it flows for longer then I just let it 🙂 .
Listening to new artists, although exciting, is not always something I’m in the mood for. It’s a bit like starting a new TV series, having to get to know all new characters and story-lines etc. I like to find media I wash myself in to be of comfort, that’s why I like familiarity a lot of the time, or perhaps I’m a bit lazy in this department.
I have to be in a very particular mood to start listening to a new album for example.
Anyway, I’m rambling. Let’s go:
- Syd’s most recent album – Fin
I love Syd’s vocals, attitude and stage presence – she oozes sex appeal for me and makes music that I want to move to. Her music could so easily be the soundtrack to eye-fucking someone on the dance-floor, letting the darkness and the drink make you liquid.
I particularly like Dollar Bills, Know, Body and All About Me.
It’s such a smooth album, that really wraps you up in it.
- Ray Blk’s – Durt
I keep coming back to Ray Blk – I first heard her sing 5050 and it just made me look for more of her work. It just sounded like it might have been some old classic that I was failing to recognise and I was surprised to find it was an original song – I’m not sure what felt familiar about it, but the point is – I loved it.
I love her candour. And the emotion she conveys so gracefully in her voice, I find the content of a lot of her songs to be so touching and real.
My favourite songs from “Durt” are My Hood and Gone (which features Wretch 32) – Chill Out is also so listenable.
Talk To Me and 2am are also great tracks that I listen to on repeat.
Her voice is so expressive of pain and sometimes bleakness, but she combines it with touches of lightness and humour. Her references to pop-culture really make them real by setting the lyrics in time, the details paint such a vivid image for me.
The first verse of 2am shows that detail perfectly:
” […] no no, cartoons on the telly,
cold spaghetti in my belly.
I laugh loud, nobody can hear me,
Zoidberg, Carlsberg, I’m feeling merry”
I appreciate the rhymes and half-rhymes and the lonely picture she paints with humour. That clarity of bringing the scene to life, I think, is a real skill.
Also, I love it in Talk To Me when she says “Hope you hit it last, Kanye not Ray J” – I find it really beautiful and candid, by using this image – she expertly avoids cliche and to be honest, it kinda gets my heart a bit. On top of that, as in a lot of her songs, the pace of her deliverance propels things forward so pleasantly and with such great rhythm.
Candour, honesty and directness are things I admire and love to hear so much in music, the personas in her songs speak a kind of truth I find really emotive, she shows us so many things at once, her vulnerability, her sexuality and her drive, as well as her creativity in expressing those feelings.
I just love her story-telling basically and the effortlessly cool frame in which she places it, and now I’m gonna stop gushing, it’s feels a bit out of character, haha.
I just love hearing complex female voices in music and Ray Blk and Syd, I feel, give us just that.