I Remind Myself of Me When I Wasn't By Andrea Longstaff

As I opened my mind With a key that's not mine I wondered if I could paper over the cracks As I strolled down the halls And bounced off the walls I learnt to transcend the trivia The kitchen was clean The oxymoron's had been Introverted extroverts the lot of 'em Paranoia was at the docs Getting five thousand shocks I had to remember to forget As I thought outside the box Someone changed all the locks Damn, some days I like the sharp corners My get up and go Has got up and gone And the last I heard it was living it up in Ibiza I didn't lose my mind It just fell a bit behind And kicked a ball about for a bit If you go opening doors With key's that aren't yours You really should call out a locksmith

Copyright Andrea Longstaff 2007

Comments System Prototype Version 1.0 by Mo

Poetry - Destiny By Laura Fry
	A Yorkshire November Set the scene for our perfect day And I still remember Each detail as if it were yesterday Church bells were ringing Late autumn wind ruffled my bridal gown Read more...

Poetry - Rocky The Rat By Mike Watts
	When I was ten I was given a rat A pet shop reject As big as a cat That shared the shed With my brothers rabbit Read more...

Poetry - Trade Winds By Scott Rorrison
	Trade winds blow o'er the boisterous azure sea,     To Africa's savage shore, land of kings,     Where Nile reeds softly dance with the dawn winds: As you used to, drunk on old Jack and me.     Perhaps Rome? Land of Romulus the great, Where olives, lemons, lustful Latin's dwell, A fierce city, born when brave Troy fell, Read more...

Poetry - Synaptic Snap By Joe Hakim

I'm in the market and I pass a stall, I see a big silver fish and I stop and look down into its dead eye, and for some reason I think of you.    Read more...

Poetry - Hero By Steve Cooke

	When I was a boy my dad said I'd be A great man some day, a leader of men. My strength was in words and making folk see What was unclear to them yet plain to me. He said "You'll grow to be a gentleman, A voice of tender hope and pure reason, A prophet who will do all that he can Read more...

Poetry - It's Good To Be Different By Michelle Dee
	It's good to be different, To stand out in a crowd It's okay to wear black And play music too loud It's fine to be boho Put beads in your hair Read more...

Poetry Debbie By Mike Watts
	At school fat Debbie was the joke Whose only friends were crisps and coke, Who invited buns and bags o' chips To settle on her arse and hips, Which gave nothing in return Just calories she couldn't burn; So Debbie cried and Debbie grew Read more...

Poetry - Beat By Scott Rorrison
	To be of a different time, a different place, Mingling with a superior race ... Beatific, sub cultural forms of expressionism. The cool, soft blue vibes of Jazz breeze into the city night, Dean Moriarty's a hustler in flight. Read more...

Poetry - Watching the Detectives By Andrea Longstaff
	They never said to be a pawn I missed that on my mobile phone I just want a riverside home Entrapment down the drain. Spies like us and spies like them Back to front the mister men Read more...

Poetry I Need By Mike Watts
	proof I need truth I need another crack at youth. I need hope I need dope I need stimulants to cope. Read more...

Poetry - The Last Goodbye By Laura Fry

Now comes the hearse My last goodbye To the woman I considered my mother Let me speak Let me say how much she meant Then I'll go, and give you no more bother So take my bag, I don't expect a sorry Read more...

Poetry - Sometimes Even The Words Leave By Joe Hakim

The Polish voices from next door, Sunday's paper on the floor, the empty tin of deodorant spray, change left over from last week's pay. The dirty clothes, the unmade bed, knocked over drink, carpet stained red,    Read more...

Poetry - Mosi Oa Tunya By Michelle Dee
	Smoke that thunders, masking the coming storm Young men of Chinoyi disappear Men and women tortured for telling the truth Tyrannical regime, that's what they fear And who, are they? They, are you and me and the rest Read more...

Poetry - Showtime By Mike Watts
	The resident nuisance staggers, Zip down, dribbling at the busy Sweating behind mirrored bars. Mirrors reflecting movement, Scenes from the Neanderthal, The grunting unfit for their cars. Read more...

Poetry - Max the dog By Angela Sarson

	Max the dog while I'm on the bog is sniffing the floor his tail wagging the door He snorts at the smoke when I blow out a toke Read more...

Poetry - Ode To Medea By Scott Rorrison

	So begins the tragedy of Medea Her love for Jason is truly dear; Father and brother now deceased, She helped Jason gain the Golden Fleece. Exiled in a foreign land She can no longer hold her Read more...

Poetry - Is Anybody There? By Maurice Fairfield
	What's to come is still unsure Only one thing's really certain One day (some day fairly soon) I'll check out that final curtain * Will I play it centre-stage? Will I pass out in the wings? Will I rant in noble rage Read more...

Poetry - Mormon By Michelle Dee
	No coffee, no tea cigarettes are not for me. Read the good book everyday, pray all week church on Sunday. Peddle the word from door to door to preach the scriptures all the more. God to get the message across Read more...

Poetry - When Stella came to Town By Shaun Heesom
	The whole of 'Cheese' got drunk And plenty hit the ground This night of cheer, and Belgian beer When Stella came to town We'd put up with 'Hopfenperle' too long This weak insipid bevvy Read more...

Poetry - Spending Time At The Crime Scene By Joe Hakim

Coping with the enormity of committing the crime of the century, my heart is empty and so is my head, no sleep when I go to bed, something outside is dead.    Read more...

Poetry - Eyes By Michelle Dee
	I go out you all look at me Stares from everybody I see Your eyes burn my back What the hell are you looking at? Some sad excuse for a girl Tired eyes hair with a curl Read more...

Poetry - Lines of Life - Part Seven By Paul England

	So I decided to go to the gym. I stopped smoking pot and started training five days a week. I gained about a stone and a half over about 5 months. He still sorted my pot out but he never stayed at my house, and when he did come he always had a mate with him. You see before Mike died I'd have sorted him out with not a second thought, but I'd changed. Read more...

Poetry - Estonian Courage By Laura Fry

He Will always be here in my heart And you knew this from the start And the real man that you are knew he had to understand He Although my love was all in vain Read more...

Poetry - Beyond The Glass By Mike Watts
	Up, with the flat-top and yogurts I palm a circle into the condensation And watch, through fusty wet, A surrendered street expose itself. Two plaster-spattered jackets light up Beside a battered van. Read more...

Poetry - Little Miss Hoity-Toity On The Corner

	It's little miss hoity toity on the corner. The pinny people with the Jaguar, vegetable patch and perfect lawn. The kind that look out of their window every time they hear a horn. They are the posh estate rejects. The council estate so called "perfects". Bin cleaners, kerb sweepers and football pinchers. Police informants who keep garden ornaments. Read more...

Poetry - Litter Bug By Stuart Murray

	Space raider, the kerb invader. Regal packets reject, where's the focus point gone? A crushed Carling can is the point to this song. Mars bar wrapper, Carrier bag. Twix dropped like the fix. Read more...

Poetry - The Road Sweeper By Mike Watts
	Reluctantly he slipped away from the depot And pushing through his steaming breath With thin-gloved flesh numb as death, He shrank into the thickening snow. And like a bud, he embraced the dissolving Of whiteness, evermore bitter Read more...

Poetry - Lines of Life - Part Six By Paul England

	I remember this one night we went in pub. There was me, our lass, her sister and Deansy. We were playing pool when a fight broke out between some of the local dealers and a couple of guys. I saw what was going on and made a move real quick. I knew they had put one of them in a bad way. Later I heard on the radio that he was dead. My life was in bits and my head had gone to shit. Read more...

Poetry - The Green-Eyed Monster By Laura Fry

There's no logical reason that I should feel insecure, But when one's had the life I've had one can never be sure You are so sweet; your love is so true It was me that you married, my trust is in you But then I see these women that are Read more...

Poetry - British Person English Pride By Stuart Murray

	Stuart Murray www.myspace.com/britishpersonenglishpride is a new poet writing from his hometown in Leeds. His debut offering British Person English Pride is a collection of 27 poems. His keenly observed verse demands your attention, describing societal issues offset with an exploration of patriotism in today's Britain. Read more...

Poetry - Lines of Life - Part Five By Paul England

	In the end our Dave got with Bev and moved in with her. The housing people found out my mam was not living with us so I had to give the house up. I had a choice 'cos our Mike wanted it so he said I could live with him and his family or get a flat of my own. I let him move in. He had said that he wanted to stop selling pot and that he wanted me to so I did, but when he moved in he Read more...

Poetry - The Decline Of The Fishing Industry By Mike Watts
	Once I battled for frogs When the waters bubbled and croaked With slippery life. I hunted minnows, flashing silver arrows Darting through the weeds; Caught and re-housed in soup-tins, Chipped mugs, held tightly like Read more...

Poetry - Lines of Life - Part Four By Paul England

	In the end our Dave got with Bev and moved in with her. The housing people found out my mam was not living with us so I had to give the house up. I had a choice 'cos our Mike wanted it so he said I could live with him and his family or get a flat of my own. I let him move in. He had said that he wanted to stop selling pot and that he wanted me to so I did, but when he moved in he Read more...

Poetry - Off The Chest By Mike Watts
	I'm sick of you You're full of crap Mr 'victim' of the poverty trap What bollocks - and to be blunt You're just a fucking lazy cunt Sat on your arse for twenty years Blowing dope and necking beers Read more...