THE ARCHIVE

[ste]

You stand on the street, drinkin your booze
Think ur hard cause ur attack made the news.
I read about it, in the paper
and I think to myself 'just f*ck off and dont come back later'

U speed around in your shitty car
And i know for a fact that Not one of u, will go far.
And how come ur all uneducated?
U dont even speak the language your country created

And i hate the way that you dress
well i pity you, if its to impress
And u do know that no one likes u
they hate ur guts through and through.

[fastfuse]

Well Done Ste!!

[cocainecoyles]

alot of anger in that poem.. directed at anybody?

[Fergal]

one has a few ideas about the target of that poems hate...

[fastfuse]

I have an idea too....

[cal]

where did that band go
after the radio overplayed their song?
they seemed to fold
after the debut albums done
youve got your "sheila goes out with her mate stella"s
and your "you can stand under my umbrella"s
havent they been forgotten about already?
about now things are running smoothly
your in the chart without any workrate
so dont let it get to you
when your debut album bombs
and youve got your big hit
and the NME is loving it
the next big thing they say
on MTV2 its all theyll play
these scenes to seem to me
obsene to scene for me

pissed as f**k at 3.54am

good times


actually ill probably put that into a song tomorrow

[ste]

Pointed at chavs lol

'Appoint me king
See what i bring
To you and your round table

Let me eat
and let me drink
with you at your round table'

[apparentlyso]

I have memories of laughter
Of tears, of friends, of people hurt
I have memories of achievements
Of disagreement, of dreams ground into the dirt

And when trying to justify them
Some are simple, others more complex
Years bring knowledge of what should have been different
New perspective to long standing regrets

Some streets around here are unchanged
From the time when these events occurred
But the people, they are different
While memories refuse to be blurred

The feelings still affect me
The guilt and sorrow can still pierce
Though lives since then have moved on
Remorse and confusion remain fierce

For every happy episode
There are others that seem to contradict
Delight, pleasure, happiness
Anger, disruption and conflict

I still sometimes see faces
That remind me of these people, whose lives I knew
But their features are now altered
Those from my past becoming few

Of all of these different feelings
Regret is undoubtedly the worst
There are people I have damaged
There are things that I cannot reverse

Maybe I should have listened
Thought of consequences before I grew old
Taken note of good intentions
Heeded advice and warnings which were told

But regrets are all I’m left with
Time moved on makes change a hopeless aim
Leaving memories of scenes and faces
Reflections with which to consider shame

[scruff]

^^ alright Ian. I thought you hung yourself.

How's Debbie?

[Deleted]

Good King Wenceslas looked out
Upon the feast of Steven
Someone hit him with a brick
And made his head uneven.
Brightly shone the moon that night
Although the blow was cruel
When the doctor came in sight
Riding on a muel.


...hmm...

[cal]

good old curtis,
still poetic from the grave

[apparentlyso]

We have our dreams, daft as it seems
That we will achieve, see others believe
That we’ll take a spark, forge works of art
Our theories applied, then rest for a while

Our minds running wild, freedom of a child
No constraints in our eyes, plans to devise
Follow our own paths, glorious, imaginative wrath
When the sun always shines and we can rest for a while

Speak to the world, our banners unfurled
Expose your mind, the negative left behind
Walking our own street, directing the beat
Express our style, and rest for a while

A clean slate to work, a blank canvas Earth
Limitless desire, ambitions never higher
All open roads and an effortless load
Creating a smile, then rest for a while

[scruff]

"Take a Sad song"

I lie awake at night as everyone is sleeping
I gave away too cheaply, the only thing worth keeping
I hold those words in silent screams that everyone is speaking
In hope in love and anger.
Its 3-16 am, and I'm floating like a dancer

London, Belfast and all the way back to Manchester
tracing shapes in light that come too fast
Coming down into a future scene
I thought would never last.

Asking do trees ever speak about silence
does the river run dry when it cries
Is the sky falling in when its night
and does each day ever consider its time
Is love and hate just a mirror called fate
And is life just death reversed in the mind

The songs write themselves
you make them sell
But my inner child wants to be Oscar Wilde
my leaden heart says love will tear me apart
And heaven is also my hell.

[cal]

apparentlyso is the new Burroughs

[cal]

The Bad Books

I never know if we are on good terms
or if I’m in the bad books
Awkward silences, glances, looks,
When it comes to cold shoulders you wrote the book

Minutes feel like hours, hours like years
Hoping, wishing, no closeness, no kissing,
Silence grows, lives off my fears.

It wasn’t always this way, last year, the good days
We were happier then, didn’t need to pretend.
Sick of repetition,
Tired of routine,
Sick of repetition,
what was once unpredictable is now a well practiced routine

I find myself always worrying what im going to say next.
The next day its me who sends the first text.
All in all, I love you, I know.
but i keep asking myself how long can we go.

the issue is with me, take a tissue or three
we small talk and tall talk through the small hours to see,
if what we had is still there, and worth saving and if
i can get out of the bad books
and will it be worth it