The featured image above, is my photo of a painting by Graeme Altman, titled ‘Hopeful-return’, while on display at the Boom Gallery in Geelong, during September 2018.
Today for something a bit different, I’m introducing one of my favourite Bands, a group called ‘Poets Of The Fall’.. Poets of the Fall (POTF) is a Finnishrock band from Helsinki. The group consists of Marko Saaresto (lead vocals), Olli Tukiainen (lead guitar), Markus “Captain” Kaarlonen (keyboards, production), Jani Snellman (bass), Jaska Mäkinen (rhythm guitar), and Jari Salminen (drums, percussion). The music/video below, actually debuted tonight, and I had my YouTube timer set up to receive this video as it was being debuted… The song is remix/version of their number ‘1’ hit tune from 2006. I hope you enjoy, Poets of the Fall feat. Triosis+ – Carnival of Rust (Alexander Theatre Sessions / Episode 12)
Premiered 1 minute ago
Lyrics. “Carnival Of Rust”
D’ you breathe the name of your saviour in your hour of need And taste the blame if the flavor should remind you of greed? Of implication, insinuation and ill will, ’til you cannot lie still In all this turmoil, before red cape and foil come closing in for a kill
Come feed the rain ‘Cause I’m thirsty for your love dancing underneath the skies of lust Yeah, feed the rain ‘Cause without your love my life ain’t nothing but this carnival of rust
It’s all a game, avoiding failure, when true colors will bleed All in the name of misbehavior and the things we don’t need I lust for after no disaster can touch, touch us anymore And more than ever, I hope to never fall, where enough is not the same it was before
Come feed the rain… ‘Cause I’m thirsty for your love dancing underneath the skies of lust Yeah, feed the rain ‘Cause without your love my life ain’t nothing but this carnival of rust Yeah, feed the rain ‘Cause I’m thirsty for your love dancing underneath the skies of lust Yeah, feed the rain ‘Cause without your love my life ain’t nothing but this carnival of rust
Don’t walk away, don’t walk away, oh, when the world is burning Don’t walk away, don’t walk away, oh, when the heart is yearning Don’t walk away, don’t walk away, oh, when the world is burning Don’t walk away, don’t walk away, oh, when the heart is yearning
I was catching a bus home this afternoon, as per normal, after my walk down Pakington St. However, mistakenly I caught the wrong bus !! I looked up, and I did not see the sign. In the long process of hopping on a couple of different buses, I eventually found my way home. During my time of the extra bus trips, I came up with the words of this poem.
Sorry! We Caught The Wrong Bus
Is this the air I breathe?
A misty haze out in front of me
Is this the sky I see?
A big smoggy Vee
High in the mountain plains, flowerless, without bees
Miles of burnt-out wasteland and no trees
Beyond the eroded soils, there’s the earth’s oceans
Mercury settled deep, with a topping of dead fish by the millions
Is this black bitumen I walk on?
Long oily tar rolled out by the ton
Is this real water I drink?
Manufactured I sip. On my knees I do sink!
Mother nature. “Please forgive us!”
We did not know. “Sorry! We caught the wrong bus.”
Today’s poem is in response to Weekly Prompts, and their Wednesday Challenge, which is: Bus Riding! Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking > Here.
We endured lonely lockdowns and restriction dangers
Then successfully obeyed the rules of our Lone-Rangers
And bravely negotiated the low tides of dark seas
Today community happiness bows and greets me
The Covid bastard is drowning in our summer breeze
And together we have beaten a heartless disease
Ivor Steven (c) December 2020.
Heartless Bastards. Lyrics “Skin And Bone”
Spent my time here as a child, And now I’m passing through here and it’s all coming back again. Dilapidated buildings down on Main. This small town was crumbling down, it was hard for me to stay.
And, oh, I, I find after all this time, I am back here filled with all these memories. Bittersweet, my home skin and bone. This rust has worn through tearing up beneath the seams.
Driving down Salem Avenue. It’s all so familiar now, but so many things have changed. And the rain came down all around. Washed away the industry, washed it to the sea.
And, oh, I, I find after all this time, I am back here filled with all these memories. Bittersweet, my home skin and bone. This rust has worn through tearing up beneath the seams. And, oh, I want it to be like when I was young. Oh, I want it to be like when I was young.
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 