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Post by scruff on Apr 23, 2008 15:09:35 GMT
ha quality! quite enjoyed that "England My England" is proper powerful stuff, again a very good read. Do you write more poems than stories or is it the other way around? Which do you prefer? either really.. I'm probably better at poems as theyre easier to reel off. stories need thinking about.. that last one is 11 years old.. got loads of quirky ones like that
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Post by cal on Apr 23, 2008 17:25:40 GMT
poems speak more to me like, there was one you did on the coldplay forum that had a line summat like
"jonny said there was no future 30 years ago, how did he know"
best line EVER
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Post by scruff on Apr 23, 2008 17:30:53 GMT
I dont even remember writing that line...
but I like it ;D
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Post by cal on Apr 23, 2008 17:33:28 GMT
haha im not sure if it was you! if it wasnt then i think you should do one with that line, crackin stuff man.
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Post by scruff on Apr 23, 2008 17:35:45 GMT
I'm checking my stuff for that line now ;D
couple here from the other forum
HIGH STREET
Have you been down the high street lately its become quite a place Even the Christians are losing the faith Whats your drug of choice, what makes you rejoice In the name of the father,and his mother the ghost And kids hiding downers under burberry hats Young Mothers rocking ectasy babies on laps This is High Street, this is my Street Across the road the coke vending machine,trying not to be seen is it the real thing, will it teach my world to sing Will it put me in union, will it be holy communion Will Jesus come back and give me his blood Will Someone bottle it as a miracle drug This is high street, this is my street Mc Donalds want to super size me Vodofone want to put spies on me the butcher tried to circumsize me And with my skin he would roll the spliff With 3 pork chops you would get the free gift and smoke my ashes until im no person no more This is high street, this is my street Its all beginning to numb the senses A chemical mountain to ground Sherpa Tensing Everyones becoming subliminally addicted Was it predicted are we now the afflicted This is high street,this is my street Valium, methadone, heroin,prozac alcohol,television,freshly bubbled crack LSD, MTV,empty you empty me This is high street,this is my street Behind net curtians of every city, self pity A premier league of junkie fatigue one more coke, no joke, or just one little smoke Get through the day make reality go away This is high street,this is my street This is your street
FISH OUT OF WATER (inspired by the Smiths "rusholme ruffians")
The Waltzer dreams of teenage screams As darkness fills the light Theres a cute girl there, with candyfloss hair One last starry fairground night
On the coconut shy she steels her eye As a rogue gang steal her gaze She takes her aim, one to win the game A goldfish colour of the blaze
The dodgem cars play life on mars Speedway shouts of "do ya wanna go faster" By the Ferris Wheel the dealers deal Surrounded by armed bastards
The flick knives shine in rebel eyes Broken Neon Paradise Her hot dogs cold, the cool cats roll and take the one arm bandits life
The deal went down to the midnight sound of the cars playing life on mars The sirens wail as the killers bail And the girl wont see no more stars
A girl lies dead, blood red candyfloss head Theres panic on the Waltzer Teenage screams, no longer dreams A fish lies out of water
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Post by scruff on Apr 23, 2008 17:41:19 GMT
youre right mate.. I did write that line...
totally forgot about it too
MADE IN ENGLAND
This is my town These are my streets On every corner I'm jacked and I'm horny I'll either f*ck you or fight you Both just to spite you Love and hate on my fists Burberry on my back, cheap bling on my wrists Made in England
I read the News of The World No interest in the world or the news I look out of my window I offer no views My imagination stretches no further than the view from my window My world is four walls and a generation installed in me I call it England, you call it bigotry
You say you dont like girls but you want to look like a girl Whats all that about? I'm toned and I'm tanned so I look like your kind But I hate the way your kind look Whats all that about?
A born again hooligan Born to be a fool again No religion no church Just blood on your hands Till it no longer hurts Crucified by the morning Risen by night Born to fight Made in England
Made in England From factory floors and terraces of stone Made in England From ectasy pills and cheap fairground thrills Made in England This land is my own, this Island race is mine Made in England From pearls of wisdom and swines Made in England Dying slowly Made in England Made to feel lonely
Johnny sang of "no future" thirty years ago Welcome to the future, how did he know?
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Post by Fergal on Apr 23, 2008 17:43:32 GMT
Mc Donalds want to super size me Vodofone want to put spies on me the butcher tried to circumsize me And with my skin he would roll the spliff With 3 pork chops you would get the free gift and smoke my ashes until im no person no more reminds me of sumat john cooper clarke would write and rusholme ruffians is class, "her skirt ascends for a watching eye, its a hideous trait on her mothers side" is mint
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Post by scruff on Apr 23, 2008 17:45:05 GMT
3rd person one this, had to become a bird
MODERN MRS HATHAWAY
guess I'm just a lonely girl no sweet William or long dead president What to be has always been, forever 1963 Woke up this morning, dreaming of a mafia state Just South of New York City my own sad three line story
Blushing bride never to be Left standing at the altar at my favourite bands party Looking in the mirror Who's that girl I used to know? All the girls are laughing at me All the boys dont want to sleep with me Then this guy, I dreamt he loved me A mind so sharp his hands bled as he tried to heal me Christ to my Lazarus who never shall recieve me Tell more lies, but the truths more fun And still no-one believes me
I guess I'm just a lonely girl no sweet William or long dead president What to be has always been, forever 1963 Woke up this morning, dreaming of a mafia state Just South of New York City my own sad three line story
I see danger my salvation from my kitchen sink symphony How many questions do I need to ask, what am I supposing? Before hell it freezes over, for heavens half day closing A space gun with no safety catch,pointing at the face Shakespearean drama in this the only place
I guess I'm just a lonely girl no sweet William or long dead president what to be has always been, forever 1963 Woke up this morning, dreaming of a mafia state Just South of New York City my own sad three line story
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Post by cal on Apr 23, 2008 17:54:33 GMT
your a legend mate, have you had anything published?
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Post by scruff on Apr 23, 2008 17:56:48 GMT
your a legend mate, have you had anything published? only a couple, in local rags. what I really want to do is compile a book of some of the stuff on here and the other board, and write some new stuff to go with them.
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Post by cal on Apr 23, 2008 18:01:19 GMT
yeah you should mate, youve got proper talent. whats the newest one you have done?
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Post by scruff on Apr 23, 2008 18:07:11 GMT
yeah you should mate, youve got proper talent. whats the newest one you have done? probably the one called "dylanesque" on the coldplay board
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Post by cal on Apr 23, 2008 18:12:23 GMT
We Want More Scruff!
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Post by scruff on Apr 23, 2008 18:20:20 GMT
haha.. fair enough
first one I ever wrote this
Christmas In July
CHRISTMAS IN JULY
Where has the sunshine gone The Rain Falls Down, washing away memories of summer Drowning my heart as sure as it burned Like Christmas in July Unspoken words leave me breathless Water on concrete the smell of what could have been Patterns of raindrops spelling out your name This summer this hazy lazy confused summer Reality calls no more than a voice taking flight Into what was our last summer night Serenity of the afterthought Will it ever burn again Will it burn bright, will we see any light And if the sky stays grey and love sees no colour but red The Sandman comes a day too late And weaves a dream no more than fate I wont sleep tonight if I know you are not dreaming This stagnant lifeblood electric dream keeps me alive Chaos of forgotten nights Salt Water blood stained memories A Kiss away from history And things could change forever A Bullet or a bracelet I guess its now or never
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Post by scruff on Apr 23, 2008 18:21:33 GMT
DARK CIRCLES
Living breathing as one Vaccuous self important conundrum of nothingness Meaningless stolen moments of tragic comic intervention Loath thy neighbour, play him the fool Sleep with his girlfriend when she finally leaves school A hole in the wall to buy some emotion Turn the other face to show your devotion The whole crowd follows with dreams of liquid escapism And I the modern pied piper Fear the sniper Who dreams in the daytime and sharpens his words at night Recreate your youth at some fake flashback parties Spliffed out guitar strumming rather half hearted A Kaliedescope girl with hate in her eyes Who you know you despise Empty of life and plastic inside She talks to the wall who turns its back on her Its heard it all before and never listened anyway Every single week,every single year, every single moment Nothing ever changes,nothing ever moves You Interchange and interbreed amongst yourselves A pathetic game of music chairs but no music plays Interactive hate with no confidence of secret A whos who dictionary with only one entry Talk about me Im a different subject Famous for fifteen minutes until they forget Friendship means until the end of the night get me a drink, make it allright, then lets have a fight You can be my friends tomorrow Or maybe yesterday today, or all tomorrows yesterdays Its all the same to me
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