Tag: Poetry

CHATTER OF THE GHOSTS

The above pic confirms my fear of heights. Anyway, another demo song from the concept album written a while ago and based on Plato’s ‘Allegory of the Cave’. This track explores the insecurity the prisoner feels at the time he is leaving shadowland behind and is off out into the world outside the cave. Hope

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POOR EXCUSES (A Lyric)

In this land where the sky knows mostly only how to rain, I wondered if and when I would see the sun again, On this planet that mostly knows only how to fight, The clock is ticking down to toward dark midnight.   Bombs and poor excuses feed the hawk, In return the broken innocents

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RANDOM QUOTES ZOOLON LIKES

What’s On The Other Side? I like Jean Lee (blog link above) even though she has challenged me to post one inspirational quote each day for the next three days. Thing is, I’m going to have to cheat and post the three quotes in one hit as I’ve got so much work on at the moment

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RANDOM THOUGHTS OF ZOOLON, NO. 4

When people go on at me that I would argue ‘black is white’ I generally tell them that that is unlikely as I’m colour blind, although I did get ‘yellow’ right in one test, but not red and brown or blue and green, or most things thinking about it. I’m told that grey must play

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RANDOM THOUGHTS OF ZOOLON, NO. 3

  Most places that call themselves a ‘gallery’ aren’t galleries at all. They’re just shops selling paintings, some of them OK, others rubbish, most with silly big price tags on and piled up one way or another. This shop type gallery I saw in France the other day was alright, even though it was a

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RANDOM THOUGHTS OF ZOOLON NO.2

  Some people look like a rabbit in the headlights most times. Others look like the headlights. On balance, I prefer rabbits to headlights. Melania Trump doesn’t look 46. She looks much younger. She also looks to me like she’s thinking in a panic about what to do or say all the time she is

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DECIDER (experimental sound art)

But first, Zoolon’s thoughts on wasps and spiders! Wasps set out to terrify best they can I think. Spiders don’t, they just terrify the terrified, they can’t help it. In my studio this morning there was a wasp attacking a window and a spider looking a bit down about life fixed to the wall. It,

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BUSKING IN BERLIN (a lyric)

BUSKING IN BERLIN (a lyric) Storm clouds on the horizon, No red sky tonight, The wind blows away the magic, Of a starry, starry night.   Melissa cries for Candy, Candy dreams of John, John is suicidal, On how it all went wrong.   Larry plays the old guitar, Kate the mandolin, And Finn plays

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