Love for you by Jasmine Bennett

Walking along,

a tulip in her hand,

swing oh swing, the road is long,

longer than the oceans of blindness,

that she has crossed to come to you...

 

Often she says "the woods are deep",

deeper than thoughts sleeping on a sandy beach,

where crystals washed a million times,

beneath diamonds in a purple sky

must wait for the sun to rise...

 

Only she knows,

only she can know,

from the other side of the street,

she comes to you,

a tulip in her hand...

I travel by Geoffrey Chancer

Oh solid discs how you turn on an axle passed through the centre on a
vehicle for carrying passengers,
usually along a fixed route,

You move in a circular procession,circular procession,circular procession,

I have observed the discs on a vehicle for carrying passengers,
usually along a fixed route,

Move in a circular procession,

During the period of light between dawn and nightfall.

Gold by Fester Bryan

Gold shine

Bright and clammy

Matted shine of big bar money

I like the sweet taste

Of success

 

I have turned to face the

Gold shine

And a golf ball sized hole

Has been burnt

In my rational brain

 

I have little rational thought left

So I point my telescope at the sun

To have a good look at the solar flares

Now all that is left for me is black

my cat 

And a dripping tap

 

 

Hove by Godfrey Bletch

I lived in Hove in 1984
Above a funeral Parlour
Purple shroud and casino together
Outside my back door

The secretary of the undertaker
Was having an affair
With the chief undertaker
And they seemed very happy

I got my piano stuck
Trying to get it up the stairs
And a young women had to wait an hour
To get out to the pub

Purple Shroud and casino
Outside my back door
The spin of the wheel
The dead body still

Chauffeurs - calmly smoking
And kicking tins

Hove 1984

To be on this hill is my dream by Gary Hargreaves

To be on this hill is my dream
Standing tall and looking out over the sea.
My telescope extended to its fullest reach
Is that a boat I spy ?
Or is it a large herring gull in majestic flight ?
The wind whips my large ears
The grass is wet with spray
But I stand here on the edge of the cliff
And survey the view

Emily wanted to come
But she is poorly
Poor thing has the flu

So I stand against the elements alone
Proud to be here on this mighty hill
This almost mountain by the azure
Which on sunny days sees picnics and games
But on these blustery December mornings
Sees just me, in great coat and scarf
Screaming in unison with the elements
And turning in dizzy circles with face upwards to the clouds
Laughing and screaming with intense delight

For it is a good thing
To scream
And Shout
Some times

Poor Emily
At home with her fever
While I enjoy the thrust of the mighty ocean
The thwack of the Westerly gale aginst my ruddy face
The drenching from the persistent rain
And the cold cold feelings in my heart
The ice stone at the core of my being that
Prevents me from breaking free from this infernal hill
And making something of myself in the city
Like Moz has

Trudge home poor boy
And see to your aching wife
Think not of these things
Make the tea
Go on
Make the damn tea
Yes
I will make the tea
The zen of tea making
Its all I need
Joy is back

Sod Moz

GH 2006

Rag Tag and Damp by Lauren Beziers

The Mary Poppins Sing Along
Makes me happy – you know
A Spoonful of Sugar makes the medicine go down
So I would thank you for Smoking
Right in my face while I write !

Together we are the self-styled Merchants Of Death
I play broomball
With a ball and a broom
And a tough bike, a tougher guy and a sweet chick
Now that’s a great combination !

The show has just begun. Sit back and enjoy
It's been a long road, but a stable, secure,
And much improved me is now available
Mihai rocking
I wanted it to be as easy
I'm not a noob
But this has been the rainiest March
On record in San Francisco
So no wonder I feel damp

Egg Bound by Fester Bryan

As I walk along the way
To the place I used to sway
Inebriated with the toxic delight
Of your Schnapps
The gun on your picnic table
And the oysters of your obsession
Calm me like a passionfruit
Of egg bound blindness

FB 2006

Azzawazar by Gary Hargreaves

Oi - what are you reading ?
Its the blog of a log
And the log's a crock
And the crock is old
And the wheels are falling off
And they are rolling down a hill
And the hill is near Gatwick in 1930
And the driver is a pilot
And the plane he files is in a race to Paris
His moustache is like my Aunt Fanny
He smokes Woodbine
He loves a woman truly
But he sees prostitutes
And he puffs and he huffs and he blows houses down

Gary Hargreaves 2006