If you like bands like Queens of the Stone Age, Jane’s Addiction, Jimi Hendrix or The Mars Volta, then you’ll probably dig this.
This is a brand new recording of the song that I wrote many years ago but never had a chance to record it until now. I’ve played it live with my band quite a few times but unfortunately, we never caught it on tape.
I’m playing the bass and guitar parts and singing. Everything that you hear on this track is me, except for the drums. That’s because I don’t have access to a live drummer right now. Besides, feeding and caring for a wild animal like that is expensive.
Here’s the full video on YouTube. Don’t forget to hit the thumbs up 👍 subscribe ✅ and the notifications bell 🔔
The song is called blind in the sun and the lyrics are below. Originally, it was a poem and I set it to music (hence the Roman numerals in the lyrics).
The .mp3 file is attached to my Patreon page, so you can go there, download it (for free) and play it whenever you want.
I forget sometimes that people don’t always follow my rather eccentric, artistic choices, so I will explain something about this track. I purposefully chose not to clean up the sloppier guitar licks on this track, because it’s the feel that I was going for… teetering on the edge of the abyss.
Going back and punching in smoother, cleaner guitar parts is easy enough. I just didn’t want ’em, not for this. I’ll mention two songs that inspired my playing on this. One is “God”, by Tori Amos. Her guitar player is way better than he sounds on that track. It’s dirty, gritty and foul, for a reason. The song is about existential angst and the loss of faith, so it’s gotta be grimy.
The other is “Come On (Let The Good Times Roll)” by The Jimi Hendrix Experience. On that song, he does what jazz musicians refer to as “going outside”, meaning that he lets his solos wander just a little bit out of time and out of key, on purpose. Of course, he brings it back in or it wouldn’t be interesting. I chose to step outside on this track but hopefully not too much.
Feel free to share the link to this page or the Patreon page, or the YouTube link on your social media, that’s the best form of advertising there is for underground artists. I thank you in advance. Enjoy!
Just click that big, unwieldy link, below, to listen to the track. Or go to the Patreon page. You can download the song from the Patreon page and have it for your very own. Just don’t forget to water it every few days and never feed it after midnight.
Blind in the Sun⠀ Can you cringe beneath The shadow of a fly? You’d better try Running ‘cross the sand Fire in the hearts of your band In the joy of being alive Stripped of delusion And so forwardly stride
Lost in the garden with canonized illusions There are the keepers Of the tower But I am not a member Of the dark December The light of the sun refracts In my eye
Everything is water Electric fluid matter In a paper cup Called Time
Somewhere in the North There are real vampires I know you go to visit From time to time To roll in the stench The decadence of Thirst for blood To dine with a pack Of wild gods
I have no intent Of adopting your bent; Partying down with the devil On your shoulder
I have no intent Of going where you went Beating on a skull In a hellish midnight circle
But who am I to say? That you are not ok? I will simply stay Behind
This piece is new and is part of a book that I’m working on, called one pass by. The theme is one trip of the Moon through the lunar cycle.
The Moon is the protagonist of each poem, speaking directly to the reader or just thinking out loud. These are musings about the moods and experiences that come up each month, as Luna aspects the other planetary bodies in our solar system.
Our moon travels around the entire ecliptic (faster than any of the other, traditional planets) in roughly 29 days. That means She regularly conjoins (meets) all the other Planets, as well as forming what astrology calls aspects with them, such as sextile, square, trine and opposition.
Each of these angles prompts a different type of energy. Making sense of how these aspects affects us is a big part of what serious astrologers do.
In astrology, the word planet comes from the Greek, meaning “wanderer”. So yes, the Sun (Sol) and the Moon (Luna) are each a proper Planet (capitalized P for respect), even though they are not planets, in the astronomical sense.
In mythology, each of the Planets are ascribed as being the same energy or archetype of a particular God or Goddess. Our versions are named after the Roman Deities and correspond quite closely to their Greek counterparts.
In essence, these poems are the Goddess Luna, on her usual, monthly travels around Earth and Sol, the Sun. She’s talking about Her experiences with each of them, telling us the story of what can usually be expected, when She bumps into the other Gods in some way.
Each piece is written in lowercase, including the proper names, such as Saturn and Jupiter. This is a stylistic choice and nothing else. I probably read too much e.e. cummings and I’m just plain weird like that.
People who understand basic astrology will probably get a deeper meaning of each piece but they written simply enough that people with no astrological background can still get the gist of what’s happening and follow the stories.
The Moon is representative of many things and the easiest of these to grasp right away is emotions. Where the Moon is and how She is interacting with the other bodies out there determines a huge amount of what wee feel, collectively and individually.
This piece is about when Luna occupies the same bit of space as the Planet Saturn, who is the Lord of Time, restriction, boundaries, limitations, duty, architecture, crops (to some degree), geology, slavery and prisons. He also rules over contracts and institutions, especially in their more complex, bureaucratic and byzantine forms.
If you enjoy this and you want to see more of these produced, ha a look over the tier benefits on my Patreon page and become a patron, to support this work.
If perhaps you’re craving some escape, some vitamins of inspiration, to get you through the dull roar of viruses and technological hangups and fearful, dull talk of elections and recessions and limitless to do lists and the hundred things you want to step aside from, for just a few, delicious minutes…
You might enjoy dipping into the eccentric, electric pool of weirdly words that I now release. Images that speak through your eyes and feelings that peer into your ears, reassuring you that, no matter how strange today seems, it’s likely to only get stranger, my dears.
Doesn’t sound like reassurance to you? Then look further, deeper into the expanding woo of kaleidoscope and know, that something bitterly beautiful and magnificent always comes out of every bizarre, however far, at first, it went.
The only thing you can count on for certain is that everything changes and everything… including troubles… settles back into comfortable routine, given enough time for the cooking bubbles.
This is true, whether you struggle against the changes with every ounce of strength or relax, let current carry you, drifting along, entire length.
It all stirs up and then, peacefully settles… back… down… again… even if you do absolutely nothing about it. Try it, breathe it, if you care to doubt it.
So do the things you need to do, To take care of your own and for care of you But turn an ear and an eye for moments, few For a little something to help you through
After all, how can a mind possibly deal with all the chaos, real, of the modern world, if not properly armed, to defend itself? Protect the gray in your skull against the beast, with the malleable mania of poetry priest, and fend off some of the stupid doldrums that are pounding, drooling, at the door.
All good secret agents know, that if facing torture interrogation, they should distract themselves from pain with elation, singing and making up silly stories in their head. This keeps the mind from snapping, a thing that’s certainly worse than dead.
A bit of poetry and music, all that Orpheus ever used and he traversed the depths of hell, emerging unscathed, unbruised. Put some of that magick dust into your pocket and go, it’s only left to trust and know, that everything else is silly, when set beside.
The big bad world is known to cower and lay right down as if dead, when once you threaten it proper, with an unpredictable pipe bomb of poetry, cocked and painted onto its cocky head.
107 pages, all original works. Most of these, probably 70% of them have never been published anywhere before.
They were written over just a handful of days, in a maelstrom of creative inspiration, given by the Goddess Venus, to whom the book is dedicated.
The themes are varied, mostly centering around the way our worlds expand and contract, sometimes pleasantly, other times frighteningly, sometimes with plenty of heads up and often, with our pants down.
Writing it helped me cope with some of my own, more challenging changes. I sincerely hope that reading it helps you adjust to yours.
Use the link here to find it, it is still settling in to Amazon’s search system, not quite coming up there, just yet. But this link takes you straight to the banks of the strange river, where your world might just be stretched out of and back into shape.
I don’t normally use this forum to talk about my esoteric practices.
But I have received the nudge to cast a wider net, because there are some searchers out there, looking for where they belong. So I’m putting up this one post, essentially it looks like an advertisement… and it is.
But look deeper and you’ll see that deep down inside, in between the words, there’s a message. It’s not for everyone. In fact, it’s not even for most. It’s only for a few. They will know who they are because they will feel it gnawing in their bones and churning in their guts.
So read this little ad and if it isn’t calling to you, just ignore it. I’ll post a poem right after this to make it up to you 😉
Through Monday night only… automatically get upgraded on The Nascent Magician magickal correspondence course.