Crickets

 

A while ago I wrote the poem Newsfeed. 

This was a comment on the fact that my Newsfeed was full of horrors at the time, with seeming apathy from all observers. 

It has passed through the magical work of the WZRDGunlach and become flesh. With this new incarnation, it has become a song about the price of silence. 

It's out on SoundCloud now; 

https://on.soundcloud.com/LjuHpGZ8fL9kBOyUb2

But it will be on all streaming services on the 6th of October. I'd be super jazzed if you would pre-save it. Please do open your ears. 

https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/wzrdgundlach/crickets-feat-empire-of

Lyrics; 

Monsters mauraud causing pressurised pauses and coursing these hares of attrition to force us

 to face what we bought with the souls of the daughters 

whose freedoms are phantoms resigned to a fortress.

Without remorse the hawks proudly purport 

to distort the discourse, to control and contort storylines and reports til the truth's lined in chalk 

and the demons extolled for their will to extort.

 Hideous hordes haul their horrible orifice-

s through the streets and then off to their offices -

coffee and cowardice; cancelling policies

killing off folk for the cents in their sofa seats.

So we know who they are.

And we know what they did

And the response from the law

Was crickets.

Feign fascination from false adulation 

Or face cancellation by fickle crustaceans

Their claws and their carapace wilful conflation

Of facts and emotions with false accusations

Sufferings strata hierarchical hate

ID parade to provoke not placate

Spotlight division, distract from the state's

poisonous policy serves to stagnate.

Sophistry’s slavers paint rivals as raving,

ordering us to ignore what they're saying

scripted unwill into games they’re playing.

Injustice tsunami; we're drowning not waving.

We know who they are.

We know what they did

And the response from us all

Was crickets.

Witch's Garden

 Green grow the shoots here in my witch's garden.

Tiny green tendrils that reach to the light.

The fox wears the bells here in my witch's garden;

Atropa bells nod. Keep watch in the night. 

My heart is purple as hellebore

that blooms in cold and rain.

My colours warm with pleasure

to thaw your frozen pain.

Tall grow the trees here in my witch's garden.

Higher than headheight, verbena in your eye.

Short grow the shrubs here in my witch's garden.

All thyme is creeping, at least in your eyes.

My heart is purple as hellebore 

that blooms in cold and rain.

My colours warm with pleasure

to thaw your frozen pain.

Perfume hangs heavy in my witch's garden;

Lilac that lingers long after the sun.

Firebird foxgloves in my witch's garden,

mend broken hearts but could break them for fun!

My heart is purple as hellebore

that blooms in cold and rain. 

My colours warm with pleasure 

to thaw your frozen pain.

Pity invaders in my witch's garden;

unwittingly playing with death at each touch.

They nourish the ground here in my witch's garden.

Of blood meal and bone meal there's never enough! 

My heart is purple as hellebore 

that blooms in cold and rain.

My colours warm with pleasure 

to thaw your frozen pain. 

Listen to the song here; 

https://on.soundcloud.com/JyyjV