sometimes i see medusa wearing my face, with my dreams dangling like an ominous crown of complex and cunning serpents. the horizon, dormant and riddled with salt-sculptured icons, is emblazoned with the history of mega-apocalypse. sometimes i see a chained prometheus, wildly waving a strangled eagle, delicately taunting the gods. his mountainside looms
I talk to Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Inductee, Ricky Byrd, about his new album “Clean Getaway.” He talks about his outreach programs and how he is using music and the proceeds of this album to support, educate and empower those with substance use disorders. The album is available across all music
Believe oh doubting mind it is true Pain can bring out the genius in you The creative soils you thought were dry Moistness once lost now again thrives A silly girl is all they see One with that heart upon her sleeve They don’t know you as you are They only see you from
Tear soaked eyes blind me, pushing through; I attempt to write a sonnet. My frantically beating heart emits gratitude – Shakespeare isn’t here to witness bleeding bodies run for cover, scatter to the ground falling on it Screaming, mass confusion – festive country music morphing into fear No, love songs are not on my
…if only the doubting self could Spin counter it’s orbit She stands Still Even though she knows Better will always Come here and Now Those miles clear But corners are tricky Can’t see past the bend’s Blind spot She got up and made coffee And thought about leaves Good Mourning doves Paced at her
Precious, Precocious, Lyric Running, rushing, reaching up, giggling & smiling like- an angel Pushing her love in, touching every nook & cranny of my heart Eyes lighting up like- fireflies sweeping through dark night Clinging, holding on, wrapping chubby arms around my legs Refusing, daring even mommy- to separate us/pull us apart
Electronic Track incorporating guitar and keyboard played and produced by Korina (Chris Bent).
LOOKING FOR MY BLOND SPOT
GOLDEN VIOLIN THREAD
Some as precious and spectacular as rubies some as ominous and treacherous as fools gold whether dark or light each sticks to our bones and falsifies our essence. Some sparkle in fantastic splendour memories of stolen moments of joy, passion, mischief. Afraid to let them escape from our depths in case the feeling ends in
