Mad Flowers

I have a new album out now – Mad Flowers – a collection of 12 songs of varying genres including psychedelic, gothic, acoustic and folk. I hope you enjoy this latest offering.

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© 2022 All words, music and mistakes by P.S. Clinen unless noted otherwise


Track List:

  1. Djuna’s Nocturne
  2. Daisy Chains
  3. Beksiński
  4. Master Groan’s Violet Eyes
  5. Storm Approach
  6. Synesthesia (Syd & I)
  7. Your Flowers Have Died
  8. On the Outer
  9. Liminal Spaces
  10. Parable of the Sower
  11. Off with the Fairies
  12. War of the Roses

Djuna’s Nocturne

Electric Guitars, Piano, Bass, Drums – Pinnacle Tricks

(instrumental)


Daisy Chains

Electric Guitars, 12-String Guitar, Bass, Organ, Drums, Vocals – Pinnacle Tricks

Just leave it alone,
I didn’t ask for any of this.
And if the branches should touch heaven,
Then the roots touch hell.

You link your ideas,
And flex in the fine print.
Go on, you’re smart,
Come on, flash your little petals.

Throw me overboard beneath my star,
Ashes to ashes we all hold hands,
Dust to dust we all fall dead,
Wither and fall, we all fall.

We folk are like grass,
And flowers of the field.
The flowers fall,
And the grass withers away.


Beksinski

Electric Guitars, 12-String Guitar, Bass, Drums, Vocals – Pinnacle Tricks

We can, we can, we can see screams
See screams.

Valley, valley, valley shadow
Ruined, ruined, ruined mind
Twenty, twenty, twenty-third psalm.

Ultra, ultra, ultra Phrygian
Phrygian.
Deceit, deceit, deceptive cadence
Deceit.

Valley, valley, valley shadow
Ruined, ruined, ruined mind
See their, see their, see their screams
Psalm twenty-three


Master Groan’s Violet Eyes

12-String Guitar, Harpsichord, Bass, Tambourine, Hand Drum, Vocals – Pinnacle Tricks

Words by Mervyn Peake

Linger now with me, thou Beauty,
On the sharp archaic shore.
Surely ’tis a wastrel’s duty
And the gods could ask no more.
If thou lingerest when I linger,
If thou tread’st the stones I tread,
Thou wilt stay my spirit’s hunger
And dispel the dreams I dread.

I have lingered in the cloisters
Of the Northern Wing at night,
As the sky unclasped its oysters
On the midnight pearls of light;
For the long remorseless shadows
Chilled me with exquisite fear.
I have lingered in cold meadows
Through a month of rain, my dear.

Atop a jade sceptre, and a dress of flaming scarlet,
A nest of hair for magpies, bright carvings and stone lanes.
Posture of crumbling carriage, of bulk and greatest girth,
Façade of clinging ivy, battlements of dust.

In dark alcoves I have lingered
Conscious of dead dynasties;
I have lingered in blue cellars
And in hollow trunks of trees.
Many a traveller through moonlight
Passing by a winding stair
Or a cold and crumbling archway
Has been shocked to see me there.

Atop a jade sceptre, and a dress of flaming scarlet,
A nest of hair for magpies, bright carvings and stone lanes.
Posture of crumbling carriage, of bulk and greatest girth,
Façade of clinging ivy, battlements of dust.

Come my love, my love, my only,
To linger is so lonely
When one lingers all alone.

Will thou come with me, and linger?
And discourse with me of those
Secret things the mystic finger
Points to, but will not disclose?
When I’m all alone, my glory
Always fades, because I find
Being lonely drives the splendour
Of my vision from my mind.

Come my love, my love, my only,
To linger is so lonely
When one lingers all alone.


Storm Approach

Electric Guitars, 12-String Guitar, Organ, Bass, Tambourine, Percussion – Pinnacle Tricks

(instrumental)


Synesthesia (Syd & I)

Electric Guitars, Organ, Bass, Tambourine, Vocals – Pinnacle Tricks

When it’s 9 o’clock in March and September in 3,
This song has the feel of a Saturday eve.
And remember, left foot first, and clap an even number of times.
Twenty is good, or ten in a hurry.

The top of the page is South, because I am the sun.
But only in this hemisphere, I suppose.
Saint Valentine’s monsters – the news in on next.
Meat first, veggies second, or you won’t get your dessert.

Get your numbers and letters in a line.
Five is red, and four is blue
Because of the trains.
Let’s perceive together.

It’s the rock chords –
Of D, A, E
Tuned down half a step
Just like Gloria
Just like beautiful Patti Lee
Like Polythene Pamela
Step down Pamela
Step down Gloria
A greenhorn with too much sorrow
Like you too and all your desires
And what else?
A bronco in a crater
A number one hit jam
It sounds good, man
Let me use it
I want to use those chords
They sound terrific
They sound absolutely terrific.


Your Flowers Have Died

Electric Guitars, Slide Guitar, Organ, Bass, Drums, Vocals – Pinnacle Tricks

Down in the dirt,
Hung upside down,
Stripped of your worth
Trampled to the ground.

Could be a tall poppy,
Picked out and strung up.
Your leaves go skitter-scatter
And they die in the shrub.

And they say your flowers have died.

Could be a shrinking violet,
Lost in the weeds,
Or be pressed in a book
That nobody reads.

Indian summer winds sent shivers up the hillside,
They say your flowers have died.

The blooms rock like boats
On the verdant harbour.
Stems anchored,
Crimson leaves skitter-scatter.

Down in the dirt, with the weeds,
Stripped of your worth.
Pressed in a book,
But no-one reads anymore.

And they say your flowers have died.


On the Outer

Electric Guitars, Piano, Organ, Words – Pinnacle Tricks

Like the ninth, I watched from outside looking in
And flung towards you through Neptune’s cobalt.
The seventh, on its side paid little heed
On Saturn’s rings I skate and pick up speed
And shoot past the pregnant pull of Jupiter
To smash through belts of rock and ice
Inward now past Mars – the only red that’s cold
Ignoring home despite its patient worry
Into the reckless heat of Venus I yearn
To knock the first from its perch within your sight

We burnt bright and died fast.

My wayward turned head eclipsed the light
And outward bound my course then took the turn
Past home, I won’t return, I need not hurry
Even if I wanted, there was nothing I could hold
And purpose sheds its skin and precedes vice
My course but one pulse from the quantum arbiter
And without root I am a useless seed
On the wind of space with vagabond lead
Only faster, no hope of halt
Beyond the ninth into oblivion.


Liminal Spaces

Electric Guitars, Organ, Piano, Bass, Drums, Back-Masked Vocals – Pinnacle Tricks

(instrumental)


Parable of the Sower

Acoustic Guitars, 12-String Guitar, Violin, Tambourine, Vocals – Pinnacle Tricks

Little lights on the narrow path
linked together in one place.
See your profile in the shadows cast
never turning to my face.

Pressing flowers in an old book
catching moments that are lost.
Don’t you know that they’re dead though?
Death for beauty is the cost.

Shattered nothings falling fast
on a deafened ear.
Crumpled under weighted page
in a heavy tomb.

Scattered seeds on the pathway
under swooping of the bird.
Blinded crying in the harsh sun
wishing only to be heard.

Weakened roots in the shallow ground
seeking purchase in the rock.
Affronted by an indifference
that kept hunger under lock.

Bone broken on the hardened soil
cast upon the floor.
Praying for receding tides
and pursuit of sun.

Aching cries in the black sky
only echoes here reply.
Screaming inward from an awful place
where any hope can only die.

Tangled vines and the sharp thorns
clinging tightly in a web.
Blood pouring and the rust scars
joy of living in an ebb.

Little lights on the narrow path
linked together in one place.
See your profile in the shadows cast
never turning turn my face.

Salvation is a lonely writ
Salvation is a lonely writ
Salvation is a lonely writ
in an oblique place.


Off with the Fairies

Electric Guitars, 12-String Guitar, Slide Guitar, Bass, Tambourine, Hand Drum, Vocals – Pinnacle Tricks

The engine’s still hot,
Sun’s off and setting.
The Southerly’s up
And there ain’t no regretting
That I’m on my own.
The sea bites the stone.

Motel’s a mess,
Wine stains on the carpet.
Suitcase on the bed
And I’m willing to bet
That the coffee is cheap
As the ocean is deep.

Barefoot on sand,
Coat collars turned up,
Eastward I stand,
Through the sea spray I yearn
For the time to stand still,
Plant a flag on the hill.

Tomorrow will come,
And I’ll be on my way.
And to manner or some
Say I’m off with the fae,
But I couldn’t care less.
No I couldn’t care less.


War of the Roses

Electric Guitars, 12-String Guitar, Mandolin, Oboe, Cello, Marching Drum, Vocals – Pinnacle Tricks

The shattered shale shifting underfoot,
Petals wilt and roots they rot.
The sturgeon moon turned wax to wane
And held the blackened secrets there.

Onward march for unity,
You can’t escape your bloodied fate.

Wouldst thou bleed for their sigil?
Wouldst thou bleed for their sigil?
Wouldst thou bleed for their sigil?
Pluck the sharp leaf from Yggdrasil.

Fight or flight
Wrong or right
Peace and war
We all must fall.

No fealty, reason, impunity.
The reaper lies in wait.

Wouldst thou bleed for their sigil?
Wouldst thou bleed for their sigil?
Wouldst thou bleed for their sigil?
Pluck the sharp leaf from Yggdrasil.

Fight or flight
Wrong or right
Peace and war
We all must fall.


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Published by P. S. Clinen

Official website of Australian author and artist, P.S.Clinen. He has published two novels - Tenebrae Manor and The Will of the Wisp, as well as the illustrated poem A Boy Named Art. His most recent release is a poetry collection Vignettes - An Anthology. All of his works are available to purchase on Amazon. Check back often for more by this author, including poetry, short stories and other updates.