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Poetry |
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The Seventies
By Jane Foster
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The Seventies were great.
You could bounce on your space hopper.
It was OK to ask a girl
To come sit on your Chopper.
A man had just walked on the moon.
The Beatles had just split.
Together they were beautiful
But separate they were shit.
A band called the New Seekers
Liked to teach the world to sing.
But we weren't allowed to play
With our ding-a-ling.
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The dreaded Yorkshire Ripper
Was still yet to be caught.
Slade came and felt the noise
And cut their fringe too short.
But...we couldn't walk in platforms.
Our Spandex was too tight.
Our 18 -hour girdle
Sprang off us in the night.
The Sex Pistols weren't sexy.
The fashions passed me by,
'Cos no-one can look cool
In an orange kipper tie.
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So Elvis Presley's dead now,
And John Travolta's fat.
And as for Jimmy Savile,
Well, he always was a twat.
The Seventies are gone now,
But hey, I'm not bitter.
It's hello to New Retro
And goodbye Gary Glitter.
Copyright ©2003 Jane Foster August 2003
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Back Burner Men.
By Jane Foster
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They spot you when they're still 'kind of' attached -
And put you on the back burner..
They're usually at the stage of 'the one that got away'
Or 'the one that didn't quite get caught'..
The in-betweeners, they watch you,
Waiting, waiting..
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They spot you when they're still 'kind of' attached -
And put you on the back burner..
They're usually at the stage of 'the one that got away'
Or 'the one that didn't quite get caught'..
The in-betweeners, they watch you,
Waiting, waiting..
And one day, in a club or pub
They'll pounce, and you'll remember them, vaguely,
As the one you once fancied..just a little bit,
Or the one you didn't quite fancy.
And you'll be at the stage of 'the one that got away'
Or 'the one that didn't quite get caught'.
Back Burner men.
They never shine bright enough.
They're never hot enough to fire your clay.
Copyright ©2003 Jane Foster 16th November 2003
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by Lee Cassanell
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I could not be more obvious,
It echoes from my eyes,
I'm always semi conscious,
I can't help telling lies.
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My father was a butcher,
My mother easy meat,
I strolled the streets of childhood,
With sandals on my feet.
Read more...
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By Darren Sant
Excited young faces,
Stick thin legs and untied laces,
Breathlessly chasing the ball,
Youngsters large and small.
Read more...
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Poetry - "Chemical Love" and "Digit-ull Shitty"
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By Rich Mills
I double dropped before I went in,
Being searched by the doorman put my head-in-a-spin.
I pays me money and am through the door,
Head starts to bob, soon drawn to the dance-floor.
Then through throbbing heart and a tribal beat,
Two pairs of dilated rolling eyes briefly meet.
Read more...
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Poetry - What is a Friend?
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by Scott
Have you ever asked yourself, what is a Friend?
Surely it's a special relationship that'll not break but bend.
For you've known each other for years as mates,
During which you've got into some scrapes and states,
And over time recognise each other's strong points,
Confidences and deep thoughts shared over joints,
Are genuinely happy for their luck and enterprises,
Whilst lovingly empathising with their darker surprises.
Read more...
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Opinions - Refill Not Landfill
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By Cilla
What do you think about the price of printer cartridges?
I can't afford them. My printer has long periods of rest between bouts of frenzied use while the colours still give any semblance of anything other than black and white. The very idea of the printer being useable is a treat for the whole family!
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Driving - Jo's DRIVING LESSONS
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Here I was living alone with my 3 children, my husband having just left us to cope alone. My eldest daughter, only just 18, was keen to learn to drive and I didn't want to spend a fortune on driving lessons, at least not until she could learn as much as she could from me.
Read more...
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