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"in the back garden of Sahib"
inside the circle we do stand...
No Calico Jack
Lyrics. Including links to hi and lo-bitrate versions of the song.
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- 1226 reads
Those girls like electrical currents
A wierd sort of half poem. Sort of a monologue to a jealous girlfriend from a cruel boyfriend. hard to tell which one is worse. 'What do they mean to you - those girls like electrical currents?' I had to take you away to the other side of the bar, to hold your hand when I didn't want to because you were too much,
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- 1898 reads
Cornice
The scalloped edges of cakes made her feel like marzipan, unpopular and old. At wine lunches she found ways to make parcels of chicken and goats cheese disappear faster than sick stains off the back of a cistern.
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- 1954 reads
Sugar, Oh Honey, Honey
Sugar and honey are both sweet but while one is deleterious to health the other is good.
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- 735 reads
Nothing much about nothing
After around thirty seconds or so of this bleak silence the phone startled into life, seeming almost more shocked that it was ringing than Sam was. He casually reached for the reciever knowing it could only be one of three people: His mother, who Sam would have put money on, seeing as it was his birthday and she'd no doubt been waiting since about half past eight to call him at a suibtable time; His old college friend Tully, who called every now and again, simply to prove his own personal statement that he'd 'Keep in touch with everyone!'; or his boss, a rather plump man who would no doubt be calling to ask if Sam could cover a shift, probably so that the afore mentioned plump Albert Sturrock could race over to his mistress' house as fast as his small little red legs could go.
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- 512 reads
My Lily
Let me just say that Lily's the water I cup in my hands to drink - but in it I sink and drown, it's her say, if I'm dust or clay
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- 659 reads
WPC Ayn. tell me why
You pull me over like a blanket...asking me to speed it up
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- 708 reads
"Always Be There"
"I'll always be there for you¦" laughter to the lonely, that whisper to my ears. The pledge was his, I knew Mushiest line on a sunny day...
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- 485 reads
All the Pretty Faces
what if i dont want a pretty face?
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- 1045 reads
Pretty Pretty Prada Princess
Riding around town In Dad's gold Lexus With Mother's Dis-cover Gold To afford that twenty-four Karat gold necklace But not before eating four Carrot sticks for breakfast So she can barely squeeze In these size zero jeans Until the denim stretches And she tears the seams, This pretty prretty princess Probably thinks she's precious While it's obvious she's desperate,
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- 372 reads
Stray Hope of An Everyday Joe
My watch strikes midnight I watch as time holds hands As I slow dance With Cinderella Developing a fine romance Without slipping on the sole Glass slipper on her toes So, consider this an ode To the everyday Joe Who feels like Clark Kent On a park bench Before he starts to enter The pay-phone
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- 360 reads
bacon legs
And here are your keys Sir - with the all important soft leather M5 fob. He took a step back and held the keys high and out of his customers reach like
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- 3005 reads
Perhaps More
there you were standing in the middle of a Salzburg afternoon
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- 1143 reads
The Ovary Aunt
What she doesn't know is that her body is boiling - today, fresh cists are easing through glutinous gills lilke simmering milk, They are fine whilse they stay there mulling, all mustard and metal-
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- 1673 reads
I can tell
An old poem re-draft. Not much better.
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- 1639 reads
Eheu!
God damn it I thought that I would have had some ideas of what to write. ...obviously I was wrong!!
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- 561 reads
Bright Fame, Dark Life: Chapter 1
Imagine it. A large gloomy council estate in the poor part of a big town. The kind of place where there are gangs of children or glum teenagers and stray dogs everywhere no matter what time of day or what day of the week. The kind of place that policemen would pretend didn't exist, knowing they would have a field day if they had the courage to search it, but never having the courage. The kind of place where every boy over the age of nine or so carries a knife and every woman has a horde of children, rarely with a father in sight. The kind of place where people don't live, they survive.
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- 535 reads
Bright Fame, Dark Life: Prelude
I'm sitting at my desk, as I write this. My desk is streaked with beams of English sunshine shining through the open window. It is summer. Dust dances in the light. The window opens onto the garden. The soft scent of the roses floats in the air. I can hear a child's laughter. My beautiful daughter with golden curls that glint in the sun and blue eyes that are the eternal sunshine of my life. She is five now. Five years old.
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- 518 reads


