Town Hall Pond

Circular like that table which
Long ago crowned the halls of English Kings,
The pond sits dark and still as witches’ philtre,
Filled with weeds and fish and forgotten things
Like water-lilies in the morning light,
Crisp packets and decaying bread,
Murky imps that come out at night
To lasso lily-pads with fish gut threads.
Like the reflection of a father and son
In matching shell-suits reading children’s books,
Passing away the time of day
As the leaves of the plane trees slowly shook.
Like grey-scaled giants that children used to feed,
The loch-ness monster all hungry and alone
With clockwork jaws kept oiled by fish blood,
Who when she’s angry makes water foam.
Like a sorcerer’s red scarf floating amongst the scum,
Fallout from an alien spaceship that crashed into the Town Hall,
A cricket bat from when the world had just begun
And the story of Armageddon retold on a gumball.
The fountain which used to be a urinating boy
Has been replaced with something out of place,
A square fountain bereft of such rude joy
But doubtless more P.C. to save the Council face.
When the wind blows the fountain spray shudders
The quickly its’ time-honoured paths retain
Even when storm-clouds collect in the world-reflecting waters
The sunshine makes diamonds from raindrops again.

Hopeful.

Steadfast

Burn the land, boil the sea,
Sew the fields with salt and weed,
But you can't take my spirit from me.

Slash my eyes so I can't see,
Crush my home and family,
But you can't take my spirit from me.

Grind the dirt into the sky,
Chain my wings so I can't fly,
But you can't take my spirit from me.

Flood the cities, spread disease,
Enslave the people and their dreams,
But you can't take my spirit from me.

Rip out everything I love,
Rain down bullets from above,
But you can't take my spirit from me.

Wear us down with foreign war,
Leave us on a foreign shore,
But you can't take our spirit from us.

I don't need land, don't need sea,
Don't need blue skies to be free,
While it's just my spirit and me.

Hopeful.

So Mote It Be

Well, it's done. Yesterday I sent off my poetry manuscript to Athena Press in the hope that they will like it. I had to queue for LONG at the post office though. I don't know why, maybe it was post office appreciation day. AAAANYWAY lets wait and see what is happening, fingers crossed.

LOVE!!!


Hopeful.

The Mullet News Bulletin

OMG today I am going to send off a poetry collection to Athena Press, and hope against hope that they will accept my poems, i think that one or two could do with some finishing off a little, but I'll have to wait and see what feedback i get. OMG im bare excited.
In other news, the mullet has gone and i#m very excited. im having a wig party for my 18th, a decision i made in the throes of mullet madness, and even thoguh now i have shiny new and nice hair i can't show it off, due to the permanence of a facebook email.
Wish me luck funfans!

Hopeful.

Seriously?

Due to a non-human based error and a hairdresser yawning on the job, I HAVE A MULLET!!! Oh shit. My 18th party is in a week and I have to fix it!!!!! AAAARRGGHHH!!!!

In othe news, did anyone here see the VMAs this year?? Talk about no talent? I could have done better than most of the performers (not naming any names but click the links below to see,) with an elastic band pinging off a bottle of peroxide thats been through the mangle one too many times. I'm not really a fan of popular music though, so I guess I wasn't the target audience.
Oh well I'm off to cry into my mullet.

Keeping it real
Hopeful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qRzHZ9t2Y0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FThBgKPXNY&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PYxKncCCyZQ

Curb Song

What are you waiting for?
Say it!
Ask me - Ask me why I'm sitting here
On this curb in the suburbs.
Truth is I'm loaded
Sugar-coated
Here's proof, did I go
Did I take drugs?
Slug beer straight from the the bottle?
Eight shots and counting?
No -
It's simpler than that.
I'll own this front door is my own
Grown strong never wanting nor asking around
Sit down on the curb, on the ground,
Cry or frown you can't get round the fact,
And here's the thing -
My home is right there but I can't go in.

Hopeful.

Backseat Song

Johnny's in the backseat
And I'm in the front seat
And we're smoking Lights
'Til the traffic light turns
And we're puffing and discussing
All this governmental fussing
And we're dreaming and scheming
And Johnny starts a-cussing
Now, red light green light
Heroin by candle-light
Drink red wine and
Wrap it up in Bakelite
And all the while we're talking
Well the red man walking
Starts flashing and blinking
'Til I wanna smash his face in,
With Johnny in the backseat
Rolling up his own and then
Me in the front seat
Speaking like a tramp again
Well Johnny's all funny
And floppy and limp
He's laughing and slapping
And tripping I think.
Ten pence tax rate
Gordon Brown big mistake
Hey, I gotta tell you mate
Silence would be really great
One note man says
We're heading for the pinch and so
Always chew your gum before
When rolling up at Tesco
Johnny's jumping out the back
Loading cheap booze in the seat,
And it's banging and crashing
Like this thing they say we're having
Where the money isn't moving
And the houses aren't selling
But I'm telling you they're lying
While their profits get higher
And we're all going to hell
Coz the Daily Mail says so.

Hopeful.

The British Summer

Flip-flops sticking to sweaty feet,
Smoking cigarettes in the heat,
Dashing to hide in shops and malls
As heavy raindrops ponderously fall,
Rivers of dust run in the street.

The beach is more sardine-tin than Arab lands,
Sun cream is so gritty it’s like rubbing in sand,
99 ice-creams that cost £1.20,
It’s clear that this isn’t a “land of plenty,”
Young lovers kick pebbles and hold hands.

Flowers blooming in summer sun
Droop from lack of water, and over-run
With greenfly who silently crawl -
Age or drought will take them all,
And it will all be done.

I love every British season
But summer’s my favourite for obvious reasons
Although it’s not Barbados or St Tropez,
Let’s savour each and every day -
The few that we have in the sun.

Hopeful.

Extremely Happy

I am extremely happy for these reasons;

1. I AM GOING TO SOUTHAMPTON UNIVERSITY!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
I'M SO HAPPY I CAN'T EVEN FEEL MY ARMS!!!
courtesy of Will Ferrell in Semi-Pro. (follow the title link - thats about the funniest line in the trailer, unforch).

2. I have sent off a small sample of poems to Athena Press, and HOPEFULLY they will like it and will therefore say to me "Yes we will publish this book and you can have like 99% royalties and retain all the rights to your poetry and oh here you go, have this cheque for £15,000,000,000 because that's what we pay all our writers." That last part might be wishful thinking on my part, I mean I might only get like £15,000,000 or something, I don't know.

3. My hair looks good today.

4. I have FINALLY organised my birthday party and it's gonna be sooo much fun. I'd say like a medium-sized rave.

Apologies for this non-poetry related post, rhythm-fans, but I just thought I'd share. Blogospheres are after all a sphere of luuuurve and grooviness. Click this link if you don't believe me.
www.dlisted.com

Hopeful.