Full Measure

Drama

Alternative Trip Hop; plucky fantastical and slappy-adjacent.

After my fiance and I got engaged down in Florida, we couldn't live with the lack of Rhumba Music. Down on the Southern Coast of FL, it's fantastically rampant. Because of her name, and my affinity for portmanteaus, I called Xhumba.

BardFox.xyz for contact info and lotsss more material!

Xuhmba

SORTEGO - Impulse

Alternative Celtic Punk, dedicated to the minstrels of today, keeping the Irish, Scottish, and Celtic Music tradition alive.

Oi, Oi, Oi

Alternative Guitar and Poem by Han Blackheart. I even wrote the lyrics down for yins, fellow foxies. I hope you enjoy!

"Southbounding
Jan. 5th 2023

And so for exactly just how
Long did I expect to stay?
After all I could sense even then that 
This–perhaps–lack, of way
This game with the door I play:
Was neither chicken 
nor egg in that which follows;
Lament 4th walls in 
Close-walled-and-hollow-wallows
Althoughs 
my instincts 
Survival over woes
beg me to 
Chart paths that don’t and won’t goes–
Go?
Fine but
That’s my point like thorn’s rose:
I wanna.

This single finger I’m barin’ doesn’t
Wish for you and all to go blow blarin’ straight
To hell
As covered by that previously stated
Though I’m foul, this loop
Bears hairpin curves and well
Seen me regressed to being
Nigh but that twitching yellow mass of nerves
Found culminating 
therein my shell

And be honest, please
Can ya tell?
What rings the bell 
on me?
Is it my ego now stacked frail?
Chipping in fickle translucent layers,
Which spin and flail 
To the ground catching light 
that this hermit dares
To admit that though jagged 
on both edges,
All those colors which a bright moment catches
Are adored through self-whipped eyes 
once-bored, 
which twice bored,
Punched through boards and twitching 
thicket,
thorny hedges, 
and stale hordes;
They peered.

When to adhere to calls I once veered around 
four years
I emerge the squealing boar
But bereft 
And barren 
Are prospects beyond King Steven’s
Unremarkable door.
This which awaits me,
Might be abhorrent
And torment with all that which ails the uprooted plant
But can or it’s gotta be worse
Just knowing that if I wanted or would
I can’t–but I redirect to regale
Recant:

First
I missed rehearsals
For Phantoms-Slight. 
And when self-named jerks lost the light
I found it shone 
brightly.
Just not upon me.
Which was fine,
For in those eyes 
His and such likes and lies
aren’t mine,
Though I waited in line
To count myself among them specters
But gashed my mind along the way
Violating one-lane sectors
Then I kinda don’t know what happened…
…I drifted like a vessel never once captained
Though un-caption action and crack un-masked by perceptions.
But of course:

One of those great correctors and cosmic corrections
That inescapable compass that bades and demands us
In those whims that knighted, banned, and defamed us:
Is exile.
To make clear
Even those of us strange beyond reason
Bear that and those dear
And when even they
Cannot linger near
Said ethereal editing
Sits fat and undeniable as my claim
To that now-reliable blame and inherent result.

To wit I’m liable
Punch-red-hands from the cult
My breath 
coffee-soured 
My eyes 
fixed on a far-foul ball
Then snap to birds high above as they call,
As though they know pariahs’ withdrawl.
With song in kind
Words bereft of deftness or depth
Cheeping beak–though squeaking–bravely speaking admission
That what once was coalition
Did fall at my hands or lack of me entirely–
So to sumarize this all:

I’m not sayin’ it’s not my fault,
I’m just sayin’ 
god damnit, 
That’s all"

- Han Blackheart

Southbounding

Ruff'n Tumble Alternative Trip Hop, just for you
=)
Tells the micro story of an Agoraphobe every time we try to go live 

....
(something I wrote once, apparently)

Hey Agoraphobia: 

I'm fuckin' you up, sahhhhn. You should have killed me when I asked you too - now I rise, covered in the dirt for which our planet is named. My nails grew to unwieldy and painful spirals, but shattered as I dug my way out.
You had me, stagnancy. 
I was buried. And you chose my psychological gravesite on which to pitch your concrete tent.

But comfort breeds weakness, and you're a testament to that - weakness breeds hard times and thorns. A slice at a time, you tore away they and that which i saw as me. You plundered my friendships, supped on my credibility, and disguised my will to breathe.

And as I suffocated below your resting place, I lost him.
They took my son - signed papers which declared me not his father. 
But I can't rend such fabrics which make up young Merlin's net. It's Love brand, and they've got all the lawyers.

You spoke over my subterranean cries fornhelp
not that it's going to matter. Naught which you acted as testament for, nor drew your sadistic comfort from, nor caused me to sacrifice 

You tried to strike me down, 
but you ain't no Thor
You ain't no God Damn.
...But I am.

Fuck Agoraphobia

Recorded by Han Blackheart for Bardfox in 2022. 
Engineered by the great Riko Tahee.

Battle Mutt RMM

Sagittarius Pisces Om Hreem Kleem Sauh

Rootin Rude

Black Noise

From First to Last

Sup Foxies??
Opal Punk is a blend of Gypsy Rock, Chicago Blues, and Detroit HipHop. 
I am available for Comission,  $25 per 30 seconds.

Now that business is outta the way:
Git high, git ready, and fuggin git downnnnn

FOLLOW THE PUNK

Fuck Agoraphobia

Opal Punk

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