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Monday 23 January 2017

Toy Gangsta

She paints with words upon the wall
Her bitter accent sounds so cold
Speaks sixty languages in all
And walks on stilts so I’ve been told

And still her portrait grows and grows
Towering high like city cranes
On bended knee she paints her toes
With fuchsias reds and blues insane

Like scaffolding on castor wheels                                     
Spring water flows but soon turns brown
Dressed to the nines with broken heels
Blackfriars bridge in Salford town

Shot by Toy Gangsta high on crime
We all fall down like in the rhyme

Saturday 21 January 2017

Taking on the World...

And then she opens up my head
And tries in vain to find my brain
She didn’t leave me there for dead
She found a way to cure my pain

She cauterised me with her love
I had to let her do her thing
And although it was really fun
It felt like ten rounds in the ring

In the rain again and walking
Yeah working for the money man
Taking on the world just talking
And doing it the best I can

She injects dye to make me blue
And then she says she loves me true…


Saturday 14 January 2017

Flitch Faction in 501 words #1

FLITCH FACTION in 501 words...
the idea is to write something off the top of your head in exactly 501 words, then post it on your weblog and leave a link in my comments. Happy writing!

The subject this week is DOWN UNDER

Here's mine:

They built the power station next door to the coal mine which made a lot of sense at the time but then one day they closed all the coal mines in that country because they were a post production society now and it wasn’t pc to send men down underground or to rape the earth for coal anymore and because Maggie wanted to smash the unions and a few faces like her forebears did at Peterloo and they said it was the wrong type of coal anyway like the wrong type of snow that brought the railways to a halt twenty five years ago so they have to import the right type of coal now to feed the power station from Australia so they’re still getting their coal from down under even if it is from an opencast mine then they ship it to a dock and load it onto a conveyor belt that goes straight to the furnace so the people of that country can watch TV and microwave their frozen sausages to keep them warm when they do a hard days work online and nobody says anything about raping the earth anymore or about the fracking state of that country or the dangers of  deep down under the sea gold mining in Africa or the seven mile long tunnel they want to build beneath the bestest little city on earth and you don’t hear much about Mrs Whippy now she’s pushing up daisies unless it’s about one of her twins being lost in the Sahara or when bus fares go up like they do every year since deregulation and the national health service in that country is falling apart and they still want to privatise it like she wanted to so everyone in that country can make somebody in another country very rich like they did with the railways and the national grid and try to make people buy shares in something they already own and sell off all the council houses so there’s no place for people to rent in the villages and all the young people have to move to the towns because nobody can afford to work on the farms anymore and they will have to import their food from somewhere else like they do with coal and the ex-pats will be rubbing their hands at the prospect of supplying lamb chops with NZ stamped on them again and as the bird flu over the cuckoos nest so free range eggs will get very expensive as information starts coming out of lugholes and emerges like planets and atolls they’re still looking for Atlantis don’t they know that there’s a whole undiscovered continent beneath the ocean knowledge is the beginning of something and the end of something else I’m not having a dig at that country or raping the earth or anything honestly I’m simply recycling re-purposing reusing and redesigning absolutely everything I can lay my hands on even if that does mean me digging down under.


Wednesday 4 January 2017

Song #680

We are happy people
From a mythical place
Under the spotlight
We are happy people
We are happy people
From a mythical place
Under the spotlight
We are happy people

Outside Jersey Street Mill
There stands a Jack with his Jill
Singing nursery rhymes
From a mythical time

Under the gas light
They are a happy couple

In Ancoats Cottonopolis
There is so much bliss
Jill singing to her man
Jack be nimble - if you can

Under the street light
They are a happy couple

A shoe shop assistant
In that mythical age
But Jill was insistent
She could have been on stage

Under the spotlight
They are a happy couple

We are happy people
From a mythical place
Under the spotlight
We are happy people
We are happy people
From a mythical place
Under the spotlight
We are happy people