The Philosopher's Other Stone

don’t you love the serenity
on the far side of the storm
when it’s raging outside
safely inside and warm

all comfy and snug
while the waters rage
a spectacle filling
the streets with lakes

when finally the sun
breaks its way through the clouds
we will bathe in its warmth
on freshly dried ground

while candles flicker
over coffee and biscuits
listening to Tom Waits
over coffee and cigarettes

every hard rocker’s life
has a few mellow spots
pondering tarot cards,
ancient myths, the lot

to balance the wild side
that we all walk
under normal circumstances
to wit, We Rock!

it’s time for some beer now
- lest we forget -
today’s show is in honour
of one of the best of them: Kate


The guitar has a kind of grit and excitement possessed by nothing else.  
~ Brian May

The guitar has a kind of grit and excitement possessed by nothing else.

~ Brian May

don’t you love the serenity
on the far side of the storm
when it’s raging outside
safely inside and warm

all comfy and snug
while the waters rage
a spectacle filling
the streets with lakes

when finally the sun
breaks its way through the clouds
we will bathe in its warmth
on freshly dried ground

while candles flicker
over coffee and biscuits
listening to Tom Waits
over coffee and cigarettes

every hard rocker’s life
has a few mellow spots
pondering tarot cards,
ancient myths, the lot

to balance the wild side
that we all walk
under normal circumstances
to wit, We Rock!

it’s time for some beer now
- lest we forget -
today’s show is in honour
of one of the best of them: Kate

wet

wet

wet

never in your wildest dreams

will you ever be as wet

as the weather is today

for everyone who needs one today, cheers
image source

for everyone who needs one today, cheers






image source

Land Unter

wet dreams of neoprene suits
umbrellas won’t do in sideways rain
and the radio says, ‘Land unter’

like a flood of memories
all is awash and soaking wet
and the radio says, ‘Land unter’

yesterday’s blaze vanquished
by today’s gurgling torrents
and the radio says, ‘Land unter’

where we enjoyed a cool eve
little carved boats can set sail
and the radio says, ‘Land unter’

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Your Bones by Of Monsters and Men

turning, revolving furiously
placidly, so it seems,
to the eyes deceived of those
who stand upon her shoals

dowsing and burning
hot and cold, all at once
over deserts and green pastures
destroyer, provider, she is both

the oft-transmuted, ever-changing
ancient mother of all
to her manifold children
she tastes like life

when the guilty hang
where does forgiveness go
who are we to stand proud and tall

when the guilty hang
are we spiteful and schadenfroh
a show of our own lack of character

when the guilty hang
do we ignore our faults
and relegate them to divinity

when the guilty hang
are we holy enough
to throw the first stone

revival

receive, and drink
from the chalice of healing

let the wine of mirth
wash away your tears

rekindle your spirit
and lighten your soul

from the abyss arise
revived with new hope

arrive in a different world
one that is all your own

where you look at the future
with new strength reborn

in the sky

trails of vapour
swept along on the winds
to gather in solitude

a singular spot
where mists reform
from rain reborn

ponderous, pending
soaking up the warmth
of the kindly sun

collecting, gaining volume
spreading out to blanket
the world below

its shape emerged
it shields us from the blaze

a promise of balm
in summer heat

It’s a Friday Saturday night somewhere.