Growth Spurts

by Ashley Reaks

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released December 6, 2016


all rights reserved



Ashley Reaks London, UK

Genre-hopping musician and collage artist.

"an incomparable talent and a true original, a man who often borders on genius" - Louder Than War (UK)

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Track Name: Divorced From the Body
She wipes her baby’s tears
She strokes her baby’s head
Anoints him like a God
Mother sees her baby crawl
Floating through the evening
The moon rises the moon falls
The moon rises the moon falls
Divorced from the body
Divorced from the soul
Track Name: Without Anaesthesia
There’s a great loneliness screaming
Like sunken marble in the overhead sun
Kathryn whispers – Kathryn whispers
My life flashes my story
My nightmare my sacrifice
Girls tiptoe down a hallway
Glittering trembling
Without anaesthesia
Strangers beating children and laughing
Without anaesthesia
Track Name: The Gentle Art Of Ignoring (Featuring Sylvie Hill)
On your marks!
Get set!

Race to ignore the traffic sounds
Beneath, in the streets and reach toward
The landscape beyond, fight to see trees
Or squint and see the heritage houses covered in ivy!

It is not a gentle art to “ignore”:
It is VIOLENT and takes energy
To divert our thoughts, beliefs, bodies
Beyond the reality of these NOISY fucking cities!

On your marks!
Get set!

Bolt to Nature, for what is “natural” is indeed
Where you notice your body retreating
RELAXING, your body and being floating
A branch scratches calves, humbling with its markings.

GO! Buy that boat you’ll only use sparingly!
GO! Get the tent you’ll use only at vacation!
GO! Purchase hiking boots, which replaces therapy!
GO! Spend gas to get peace that’s temporary!

On your marks!
Get set!

The Man in the Suit has won “his place” in City
By devastating his nature and his being
He expends efforts, sweats violent urges
Covers up his wish to surrender…

Because can you really enjoy a thunderstorm?
You hear it.
Or the hot sun heating your skin
You feel it.
Or the long Canadian winter
It depressed us.
You can pump your paddle & fight the current
Upstream, but you’ll never win.

Nature – the forests, deserts and our ecosystems within
is where we rage our harshest devastations.
Rumi says we’ve got a voice inside with no words, do you listen?
Sorry, what did you just say? Too busy fighting
Modernity, Technology, the Traffic outside my building,
promising “an investment” for me in what – my insanity?

See the man with the hands down on ground
Trying to feel the Earth, dirt, create roots somehow
But his position is back-breaking in spite of his class
He is on his mark, set and ready to take it up the ass.

Humans may have evolved to stand up right
But they are Devastators, few are getting it right.
The trees though, they stand tall and straight
Until a natural, noble force breaks them.

Or until Human Devastators cut them down
Much like they’re doing to themselves right about now …
Fighting so hard to ignore the sounds, a shout

Get me out.
I’m clawing my way out.
Thought I had evolved
But I can only grow if I crawl now.
Track Name: Slugs And Snails Forever
Open bird hole so warm to touch
Overcoat draped round her shoulders
Fizzy pop bottles exploding in the rain
Butterflies glide past roses drenched in tears
Cats and dogs and monkeys disappear
Slugs and snails are bringing up the rear
Slugs and snails forever
Climbing up the drain
Slugs and snails forever
Forever may they reign
Slugs and snails forever
Sliding down the drain
Slugs and snails forever
Forever may they reign
Track Name: Candy Foam Bananas (Featuring Kevin Boniface)
At 5.30am, I distracted a rat as it sped across Church Lane. It ran headlong into the kerb, bounced off and landed on its back. Very briefly supine, it thrashed about inexpertly, righting itself in a shower of street-lit puddle water before diving for cover under the leggy buddleia on the verge.

I saw a rat yesterday too. This one was also flat on its back. Dead. All bedraggled fur and gaping incisors. It was on the pavement outside the newsagent's shop where they display their 'value' pregnancy testing kits on the counter next to the fizzy love hearts and candy foam bananas.
Track Name: The King Blows His Horn (Featuring Dave Formula)
A massive bird dribbles its fresh juices down me, like a mother's love
I hear the thunder-flash of London and the groans of abandoned children.
Johnny holds back, saying, “Slide it in, and pull me onto what is born again’.
In the circumstances, I can hardly say no.
Things in London are broken and have melted away.
Blackbirds halt my spluttering engine, as I lay over the edge of innocence.
I’m experiencing a stillness like never before.
I’m cupping Johnny’s opening, as I stroke myself faster than a Cobbett rising.
Another lost son cries for mercy as I position myself just nano-seconds away from Nature’s tool.
His little wobble speaks to me, as I reach down his sweat pants to feel my friend's affection unloading in shock.
The fire of adolescence fizzles out, just as Johnny is fucking up his own dazzling life.
I find some used needles in the hills.
A girl is partying in my psychic wounds, as an uninvited guest nudges his incredibly thick muscle against my childhood pain.
I’ve seen worse than him before, so I suck him clean.
He groans with disappointment, like a herd of gypsies slowing down some horses.
Johnny pulls my head out of his shoulders, and starts to gracefully massage his big purple knob all over my broken heart.
The four horsemen of the Apocalypse flutter their hollow eyes, before trampling me to death and burying me amongst the debris.
The king blows his horn.
After what feels like a hundred lifetimes, I’m free to breathe again.
Track Name: I Want To Live In Morphine
Pain free the only way to be
Pain free the only way
I saw her soft white hole in the gleaming hell
I dived in all alone
Even my lover’s soul couldn’t make me well
Couldn’t find my way back home
I want to live in morphine

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