Archive for The Moon

The Hunter’s Wait

Posted in Visual Art, Writing with tags , , , , , on 14/10/2022 by GeoSolus

I no longer give my word. I prefer to sow it in distant minds then watch for those who water it.

Sun Down

Posted in Visual Art with tags , , , , , on 22/07/2022 by GeoSolus

Words As A Texture (Smoke Screen)

Posted in Visual Art with tags , , , , , on 12/07/2022 by GeoSolus
The Sixth Layer

The Signs

Posted in Visual Art, Writing with tags , , , , , on 10/06/2022 by GeoSolus

“…you did more damage than that broken little mind of yours could even start to comprehend…’

‘…It was late one night when I heard this argument going on outside. Some lover’s tiff that sounded like it was amplified by alcohol. I was down to counting cigarettes as I didn’t have enough money to buy more and that sort of situation always puts me on edge. The noise outside was pushing me over that edge, especially as I was trying to compose music and to find the words to fit the mood…’

‘…I’d gone out for a smoke a few nights before. I’d stepped outside, pulled my hood over my head and lit up as was my routine on cold nights. I took a long drag then titled back my head to look at the night sky. The moon was crimson in colour. I’d never seen it that shade before and for some reason it sent a shiver down my spine…’

‘…I went outside to witness the spectacle. A drunk guy in the fits of jealousy, going on about how he was going to find the guy, that he didn’t care who he was while his girlfriend kept repeating that nothing happened. That she hadn’t even spoken to him. There were other people there trying to coerce him in to a car but he kept shrugging them off. That was until he saw me, standing on the other side of the parking area, watching and ready. His tone of voice changed this time as he asked his girlfriend if I was the him they’d been arguing about. She turned to look at me then paused a few seconds before saying yes…’

‘…They all left in silence.”

The Reflection Of A Son

Posted in Visual Art, Writing with tags , , , , , , on 31/05/2022 by GeoSolus

A presence fills my lonely nights

And stays with me ’til dawn

As the moon reflects its distant light

And whispers

Hold on

Hold on

And so I see her face once more

A shimmer in these shadows

A key to hearts

Of lost delights

Standing

Firmly

Upon the gallows

Four Moons

Posted in Diary, Visual Art with tags , , , on 05/03/2022 by GeoSolus
GSN 4M Test 01

Invocation

Posted in Visual Art, Writing with tags , , , , , on 23/10/2020 by GeoSolus

The clock struck midnight as the two candles were lit. One for the future and the other for days gone by. A silent lady was present with a scroll and brush in one hand and a long flaming match in the other. The orange flames from the candles and match illuminated three small porcelain dishes upon which were neatly piled three pigments: black, red and white. A forth dish sat apart upon which the silent one placed the burning match so that it could burn to its end.

The scroll and brush were then placed on the floor in such a manner that they formed the Roman numeral V with the three dishes at its summit.

The lady then rose and turned on the spot, making her long white dress sway and the candles flicker. Stepping forward she faded in to darkness as a second lady came forth from it and knelt before the scroll and brush.

In her hands were two pieces of wood carved into the shape of serpents. The one in her left hand was painted black with purple eyes and the one in her right hand was painted white with crimson eyes. She unrolled the scroll and placed a serpent on either side so that the scroll remained open and flat on the floor. She rose, turned and a third lady shadowed past her holding a crystal bowl of water between her hands.

She placed the bowl opposite the dish upon which lay the now spent match and thus completed the symmetry of the objects before her. With the exception of the brush which was laying next to the black serpent. She picked it up with her left hand, dipped it in the bowl of water and with sharp and fast strokes wrote upon the scroll. Then, closing her eyes. She reached out to the pigments, clenched a handful of the first one she felt then threw it on the scroll. With her eyes remaining closed she lay down the brush, gently felt for the serpents and with the tips of her fingers pushed them apart. The scroll sprung back in to its cylindrical shape and she softly sighed knowing that she must remain still until both candles had reached their end.

The Edge

Posted in Visual Art, Writing with tags , , , , on 18/10/2020 by GeoSolus

A man lays face down on a trash ridden street with thickening blood trickling from a gash in the side of his neck. He is as still as death can make him as a hand moves his head and his ghostly face comes in to the moonlight. His eyes are glazed, mouth agape and there is a hint of surprise in his features. As if he hasn’t yet realised that he is no more.

The hand takes a brush from the darkness and dips it in his blood as a second hand lays a thick sheet of paper on the ground next to him. As the brush strokes the paper Chinese characters take form and the voice of a man whispers: “These rivers run deep.”

Neon Moon

Posted in Visual Art, Writing with tags , , , , , on 04/08/2020 by GeoSolus

AWake LunaFlat out on your back
Staring at the ceiling
There’s a feeling
Of that same old deja vu

Now the day has come to rest
Get the bustle off your chest
For tomorrow
There is something else to do

Close your eyes my lonely one
Before the rising of the sun
And dream a dream
Under the shades of neon blue

And in those dreams we’ll meet again
Maybe as lovers, maybe as friends
Beyond illusions
Always guessing who is who

Blood Moon

Posted in Writing with tags , , , , on 11/02/2018 by GeoSolus

A howl in the dark
To the beat of black wings
Echoes the anguish
As hell starts to sing

A song for the living
Who lost all but heart
A song for the lost
And those soon to depart

The land of the living
Dances with death
Running in fear
And a past it regrets

Those actions and words
The crossing of fate
Now buried or burning
Or standing at the gate