He stands in twilight
at the gates of the new city's walls.
A strange dawn stirs on the blade of the meridian.
The last city smolders in the distance. 
His footprints in their soft dust craters
trail behind him 
and alongside are the drops of blood
that let astride him.
He hears the distant hounds.
A breeze lifts and covers his tracks

but through the gate
he peers, for now.
The city begins to awaken and come to life.
The bakers, the artists, the carpenters
and the elite, merge into one citizen
smiling on their paths.
He looks upon the road
leading to the private houses
and figures silhouetted above the sills.
Laughter from within their walls. 

The sunrise catches the apex
of a pearled pagan statue, where paths converge
and his eyes divert upon it. 
He stands until the sunlight reaches her eyes of the East.

Hecate waits, standing in stone, without faltering
in three-form. One face by light.
Two others by shadow. In each hand a torch
and the others hold a serpent, a key.
He is entranced by a momentary paralysis

and he imagines the future, unraveling to the North
past the mountains, overlooking the new city.
Her reflection in his dark eyes reverberates between them infinitely.
Sage burns. A hex lifts. The ghosts like petals drift.
The gravity of the morning moon, still in the sky, lifts the dew.
The blades of grass bend toward the celestial.
He begins to cry, and his eyes are then clear.

Two guards near, and begin to call out.
He returns down the path and takes a new fork
up into the overgrowth and throngs of thorns.
Up the mountain, he wades, unflinching and finds a clearing.

He sets up a camp between the cities.
Overlooking the distant landscapes
the smoldering old, and the glow of the new.
He speaks to the night phantoms, and coyotes
who dare not near
and the black fountain to him, speaks of method and form 
like wine. A moth flutters into the light and heat
to invoke a change. 
Geese pass overhead, a transition
at the threshold of season.
He watches the fire, the night long, and the hounds bay.

He douses the embers, for the ashes to fractal
meet root, and rise again.
Broken and delirious, he sees a vision
of the frog at the well
at the edge of the underworld, aflame.
It clings in silence, to the scales unfair.
Tempting darkness to near. 
He reaches out, with hand weak
and it dives, escaping wet into the cosmos below.

Sending ripples through the stars.
He looks down at his reflection until the water stills
and in that moment, his mirror splits to twin.
He looks up, but no one is yet there beside him.
A premonition. A last black hope.
The mountain grows cold.
He cries out as he awakens.

Words by Riley Robinson

I. Venus in Pisces

Salt

Original composition by Neno J. June, 2025.
Nylon electro-acoustic guitar Cordoba Studio GK, recorded directly using multi effect Hotone Ampero 100 and bass Ibanez.

Summer lounge bar

Ok we lost our original 111 bars long, it's now 145 bars... We still released the fixed version at 11 minutes past 11 this morning by coincidence... Let's go Peace... Please

I've flipped this one on it's head since it came out yesterday morning when Iran was hit. At first I made it a tirade at the situation and root causes but I deleted it and started again. Today's earlier version got rid of most of the judgements and I've since re written the words to what they are now to contain minimal negative references towards the situation and more a projection of positivity we would like to see instead and a focus on what is positive instead. Maybe thats easier to connect with instead of hearing you are wrong and this is why. These lyrics want less control then yesterday's ones and that was a nice change to write in. Anger to more hopeful maybe and a definite equality even in the face of the fires which  to see hurts the majority of us. Peace is maybe found in solidarity with everyone feeling everyone so maybe thats the best art to reflect and project that instead of taking sides so ruthlessly like I usually do

I've setup a drone like 'Please Peace' throughout which I may get some other people to unison with me if it's received well. I'll let it simmer for a bit and then decide what to do there. It's purposely Om like to maybe develop that to a tribally cave man like feature of the song and also as a hat hit to how much more ingrained music must have been for early humans especially the early first simple songs. They must have been so powerfully amazing to these people 10's of 1000's of years ago... so I'm hoping that energy gets in there and comes across... They must have also appreciated animal song way more too now that I think about it... Imagine how much closer they must have felt to animals and their sounds as the humans broadened the sounds they could make and maybe we diverged away from our neanderthal like monkey grunts to more melodic stuff... once we realized we could control pitch I'd imagine we probably impersonated animals first and developed music given our natural tendency to use our ear and previous sound references so much in music. Maybe we learned that way. Not entirely relevant but I guess nuggets relevant to our ancestors can always offer a nice steer. They're us before modern society complicated things with bullshit! Anyways


Lyrics

What are we for?
You are no cats
We are the Lions
Peace food chain hats
So strong our friends
So strong our love
God chooses all
Us and the doves

Why birth extreme?
Such worth, obscene!
Your power shows weakness
We are strong light beam
You are distraction faction
Lies to rule
Confusion tacked on
These hosts you don't fool

Avocado is Lion!
More of those please
We all feel pain
We are just Earthling food eaters
Love is justice
Who needs a pedestal?
Be yourselves
Let's all be selfless
Good level headed one

I hate no person
Be gone evil creeds
We all love more when your love has new seeds
Stop your armies
Stop your war
Be good people
Show fear the door

Please peace

Please Dear Earth
Bring us Peace
Protect our friends
Let love be leech

Please Peace

Swamp Interactions


Guitar - A. Winkler https://soundcloud.com/ande-lay

Artibella Riddim Version

Mayday, Mayday!

I don't know where I am or what time it is.
I was in a town I didn't know.
People wearing unfamiliar clothes.
I can't understand their language.

Is this some kind of accident?

Mayday, Mayday, emergency!
I feel like I'm about to sink.

Everything was normal until I got off the train this morning.
As I walked toward the office, things started to get strange.

Is everyone trying to deceive me?

Mayday, Mayday, emergency!
Or am I doing something wrong?

I'm trying to contact you, but I don't know how to use my cell phone.
I've never seen anything like this before.
Where did my iPhone disappear to?

For now, where should I go?

Mayday, Mayday, emergency!
The situation is serious.

Mayday, Mayday, emergency!
I'm waiting for your rescue.

Mayday, Mayday!

Garden

Babylon falling

Smooth Jazz?  Reggae?  Scary, I know.  It's a sad-girl kind of day, the clouds swoop in over the highway as your mind floats high above.  Abram Racine on resonator guitar, Mark Oi on electric guitar.

On a Clairo Day

This album brings together the laid-back rhythms of reggae with a groovy, chillout vibe. Perfect for relaxation, beach atmospheres, and creating a serene, tropical mood, it blends instrumental depth with subtle, mantra-like vocals that enhance the overall groove and tranquility.

Artibella Riddim Version

Pramma Belafonte