Archive for the Writing Category

Western Winds

Posted in Writing with tags , , , , , , on 18/05/2019 by GeoSolus

Walk with me
Walk to the edge
Face the fate
That we may face
In ever changing times

Where one man’s crime
May be
Another’s salvation
A drop of blood
In an ocean of tears
Diluting the sorrows
Of life

Under the knife
May just
Cut away the origin
Of bitter sweet existence
So walk with me
Until the edge
Of what once was
Resistance

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Slingshot

Posted in Writing with tags , , , , , , on 16/05/2019 by GeoSolus

I realise
You’ve
Been through a lot
So
Let me add to your troubles

You really must
Be
Used to it now
So
Let me pour you a double

S!X

Posted in Visual Art, Writing with tags , , on 04/05/2019 by GeoSolus

S!X V3 Test 2 800px Squared

Beltainted

Posted in Writing with tags , , , on 01/05/2019 by GeoSolus

A blazing sun
One of many
Just close enough
To give life
To a little rock
Floating
Spinning
Ever giving
To a strange breed
Caring
Yet killing
The foundations
Of its existence

Heathen’s Hand

Posted in Music, Writing with tags , , , , , , on 17/04/2019 by GeoSolus

I am no son of god
No devil’s spawn
I am a symbol of your world
And all that is wrong
Within your broken cult
A cultural crime
You want what is yours
Yet take what is mine

It is the nature of belief
To refuse the real
To take it all in good faith
But what you have you steal
You are murder, you are pain
An illusion’s fool
Chosen by a doctrine’s way
To be that doctrine’s tool

My nature’s natures way
I have the upper hand
You can keep your fantasies
When nature takes a stand
Strips the flesh from corrupt bones
Foundations of your faith
I shall not pray, nor forgive
When all is laid to waste

She Played Solitaire

Posted in Writing with tags , , , , , on 13/04/2019 by GeoSolus

It took about sixteen hours to fly from Edinburgh to Hong Kong. Hours spent reading a personal diary that spoke of who he was during his past years in Scotland. The adventures that bordered legality and those that could threaten his freedom, all written by hand and bound in black leather. For him it was a keepsake but it could have been viewed by others as evidence. He knew that it was in his best interest to destroy it but there was an old sense of justice that lurked in the back of his mind. A voice from a younger self saying that everyone should be held accountable for their actions without exception. His time would come and that day the whole truth should be set free and so he kept the diary as it was the only record of that period of his life.
Upon arrival in Kong, a smartly lady dressed in white met him at the airport. She was expecting him but she was not expected. As she stepped out in front of him to announce her presence he side stepped her to meet his scheduled rendez-vous while mentally noting the face for future reference. She did of course resurface at several points during the making of his new life asking him to get in to a taxi. One day, after she had ceased appearing for three years, she turned up once more. He got in to the taxi and was never heard of again but the diary. The diary was in different hands.

Same Old Song

Posted in Writing with tags , , , , , on 25/03/2019 by GeoSolus

The manipulator dropped one pace behind the hymn while announcing the enemy ahead. The hymn inquired who this enemy may be, seeing nothing more than a startled old couple under a neon glare. “Your family” came the reply and yet the people before  hymn were complete strangers.