Lunar Flow
Ancient forces dredge secrets from beneath the seabed, undulating stimuli unearthing memories of a long-buried past. Rising and falling with the passing tide dark shadows
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Ancient forces dredge secrets from beneath the seabed, undulating stimuli unearthing memories of a long-buried past. Rising and falling with the passing tide dark shadows
Returning to forsaken lands you cautiously rebuild your island homes; every log, branch, and mud pile pressed on with the precise hesitancy of re-colonised dreams.
Stony gardens of shifting light sway vibrantly beneath the waves; rainforests of the sea, whose motely splendour permeates still waters with a pale and delicate
Tiny flecks of red dance across artificial rivers of powdered grain, their movements halted only by the confusing steps of a familiar other. The speed
Buried beneath the snow line, these smouldering corpses begin to glow. Forgotten fires, whose reanimated embers burn brightly across the tundra; frozen bodies recoiling at
Buried deep beneath the tundra, frozen bodies lie asleep, waiting for the trumpet call to raise them from their peaty beds. Saturated with the fossilised
Beneath cloudy, frigid skies outcrops of fertilised laughter glare knowingly from sneering seas; their steady retreat stained by the crooked smile of those who know
The sky is ablaze. Waves of dirty yellows wash over the ground, as crimson smoke licks barren clouds that loiter jeeringly overhead. Fuel
As chimney stacks spew forth our tainted offerings of industrial excrement, dilapidated ventilators strain to suck poison from the saturated veins of concrete obelisks; their
At the top of the world we slowly cast our sonic nets beneath the waves, in search of the secrets that these soundscapes suppress. Spectrograms