THE WORM DANCE

Note to self – Never go looking for Rainbow’s End on a day with no rainbows.


Spring? I don’t think so. Sure, it didn’t rain for once, the sun came out, the temp went up, but the wind from the south-west got stronger by the minute on my first visit to the cliffs for weeks, maybe months.folk3


Normally there’s hundreds of tourists up here. Not yesterday. Me, a family of Germans, a ‘bury’ – I had to look up that collective noun – of rabbits, and a good few worm dancing seagulls.

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At least the sea knows it’s the sky’s mirror and the winds only friend. The sea sometimes helps with lost creativity. All I could hear was nature’s sounds. I wish I’d taken my stereo recorder with me.

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The harbour looked like it couldn’t bothered with much. Ships loading lorries yet hardly any regular passengers as far as I could tell – coronavirus?

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It was the gulls stomping up and down doing their ‘worm dance’ in the wind on the eerie cliffs that made me think of an old piece of sound art I’d made, ‘The March of the Dead’. I hope you enjoy, although ‘enjoy’ doesn’t feel like the right word.


As ever, if any poets out there are interested in having your poems turned into songs then click here to check it out: POETRY TO SONG


If you are looking for all my other music then you’ll find it to download on BANDCAMP or you can stream and/or make a playlist of it on SPOTIFY


Copyright © 2015-2018 – Zoolon Audio. All rights reserved. Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

A CAT IN SYRIA

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9am – Saturday’s early morning clouds dish out a warning that a better than average, but not all that when it comes to serious storms, Storm Jorge is on his way (you can just see the coast of France on the horizon – in sunshine! – if you look hard enough)


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10am – Yesterdays death wish puddle gets revived courtesy of a bored dark cloud with nothing better to do than rain some more in the company of his new best friend, ‘a useful blocked drain.’


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Midday – Teeming rain gets me and my carton of porridge oats plus a pain de raison – I was particularly looking forward to – totally soaked and inedible. Maybe I should have bought something in a tin.


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2pm – The sun says a quick ‘hello’, checks for rainbows that aren’t there, before giving up on Earth as a lost cause. He heads off to The Dark Side of The Moon as she never calls him a total waste of ‘Space’.


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6pm – An empty underpass where the old bloke who owns a harmonica but can’t get any sort of tune out of it usually hangs out. No one’s seen him for awhile. I heard that the cash rich tourists coming off the cruise liners in the harbour didn’t like walking past him as they made their way into town.


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7pm – A great night for freezing to death, crossing roads and unwittingly posing for a pointless random photo I was taking.


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8pm – Time to traumatize the pigeons, gulls, cats and dogs with the pointless sounds of exploding fireworks the cruise liners think are OK. That got me thinking I wouldn’t like to be ‘A Cat in Syria’ right now. I might use that as a title for an appropriate new classical piece one day.


Here’s an experimental piece of sound art I wrote a while back. It’s called ‘World of Shadows’, although if I was giving it its title today I think I’d have called it, ‘Land of Shadows’. I hope you enjoy;


As ever, if any poets out there are interested in having your poems turned into songs then click here to check it out: POETRY TO SONG


If you are looking for all my other music then you’ll find it to download on BANDCAMP or you can stream and/or make a playlist of it on SPOTIFY


Copyright © 2019 Zoolon Audio. All rights reserved. Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

DEAD MAN’S TEETH

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‘Sink or Swim?’ by Zoolon


DEAD MAN’S TEETH


You’ve got the jump on life for once
You’ve got a head start just this time
Victory can taste sweet
If the victory’s not mine


You were a rabbit in the headlights
A lost soul out at sea
Staring at the abyss
Afraid of mystery


There’s a headstone in the graveyard
Sailor’s bones rotting underneath
They say the last bit to degrade
Are the dead man’s teeth


You’re swimming in salty water
Not drowning anymore
You hold your breath and dive again
You lose touch with the shore


You couldn’t face that yesterday
Thought tomorrow wasn’t real
Now you touch the starfish
No longer an ordeal


Once you sat upon the rocks
The oceans all you saw
The magic of the in between
Don’t matter anymore


There’s a headstone in the graveyard
Sailor’s bones rotting underneath
They say the last bit to degrade
Are the dead man’s teeth


You’re chasing the white horses
At the dizzy whirlpool’s end
Who you’ll meet at heaven’s gate
You guess won’t be a friend


You’re in uncharted waters
You’re journeying out to sea
Following the North Star
The curious mermaid – and maybe me – maybe me


Time for ‘Time Out’ from my Dream Rescuer Album. I hope you enjoy;

If any poets out there are interested in having your poems turned into songs then click here to check it out: POETRY TO SONG


If you are looking for all my other music then you’ll find it to download on BANDCAMP  or you can stream and/or make a playlist of it on SPOTIFY


Copyright © 2017-2020 Zoolon Audio. Music, Lyric & Art. All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

THE TIN MAN, SNOWFLAKES & A POEM

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‘Chasing the Sun’ by Zoolon

I oiled the creaky hinges to the door into the eaves of my attic studio today and for the first time understood why the Tin Man out of The Wizard of Oz had such an addiction to oil.

Saturday morning, I woke up to a curtain of snowflakes charging horizontally across my eyeline. They were carried along on a storm called, ‘The Mini Beast from the East’.  I tried writing a lyric about it, but no joy. Snow = right mood orchestral or surreal sound art. The thing is I had some words in my head. I’m a songwriter, not a poet but this time settled on just words with no melody to hide behind. 

MAGIC TO THE EYES OF SMALL PEOPLE

Carried on the east wind

That freezing cold easterly

Cocky springtime overlooked

Silent snowflakes as noisy starlings

A murmuration of cloud shavings

Whirling white, swooping, nosediving

United, they put on the gig of all gigs

Hypnotizing a frosty festival audience

Magic to the eyes of small people 

Time for some music, an instrumental, ‘Bread & Jam’ I wrote just to have a bit of fun with a guitar. I hope you enjoy;

One from Emmy the Great. This number has the title ‘Easter Parade’. Its from her ‘First Love’ album. Again, I hope you enjoy. She’s magic and writes great lyrics;

Apart from Emmy the Great, Copyright © 2017 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.