You gotta you gotta you gotta go to Yo-Yo By Michelle Dee
Dancing and drinking blackcurrant and ice
Not lager or spirits it doesn't feel right.
Stamped the back of my hand,
at the front door, how could we riot
when our feet won't touch the floor.
Some come to sit alone, in dark shady corners.
Some come for the danger, they really should warn us.
Some make Yo-Yo the best night of their lives.
One leaves in lament, tear-stained eyes.
The night is building, my mind is spinning, we are screaming...
Hips shaking, chests heaving, cleavage showing, bodies knowing,
hair falling in eyes glowing brightly.
Lights flashing, hands clapping, kids jumping, glass crashing,
Heart's pumping a beat feverishly.
Swolen lips kissing, to Pri we all listen.
Scarlet cheeks glisten, foundations slipping.
Sweat is pouring of me; hair's all damp and matted
Skirt's riding up; new top's torn and tatted.
Need to get out so head back to the bar
luckily you know it's not too far.
Seems that everyone else had the same idea, and
getting served right now will take a while I fear.
Buy time I find my purse, check my phone, send a text,
check who's next, I'll be dry so why should I mind.
Look at her, look what she's wearing
brave little thing
think she's past caring.
Look at him, look how he's walking
end of the night
he won't be talking.
Ice drink sinks over my tongue,
secretly runs the cube, over my chest.
When one cool drop curves steadily out of sight,
mmm aah... that's when it's best.
Then it's hellos and how are yous
Don't you look good and trips to the loos
Goody no queues
Did ya see that guy wasn't he hot?
Did ya see his eyes, weren't they shot.
So who did ya say you came with again? Some rock n roll band...that has forgotten their name.
I know that voice I'm sure I do, that you in there honey?
You'll never guess I've gone and lost my bag, and
need to lend some money.
How you fixed later d'ya wanna come back to the party?
It's flat three, first floor. I think its number narnty.
Back out there feeling good;
feeling lusty and lithe, sliding
past shoulders, shoes heading for the stage.
Grab a place at the front
gaze back at the club,
catch the eye staring right back at you.
Give a shimmy, give a shake,
give a sultry smile.
Tonight you're a goddess, so give it your best shot.
Tonight you're a princess, don't think that your not.
They won't remember a single thing
least of all you,
come Monday morning.
Have a ball Yo-Yo, bounce of the walls.
Scale the heights of exhilaration
join the Indie-nation.
Just make sure you bounce back
Next week on Sat.
It's on the back of a bad night
-one of the fuckin' worst
-the dealers are new,
and the players
are mean tonight,
the hunger making them
Poetry - Across The Sea By Maurice Fairfield
If you ever go across the sea to Cuba
If only at the closing of your days
You can sit and watch the moon rise on Havana
The sun go down on Guantanamo Bay
To see the guards, the guns, the razor wire
The prisoners in their cages turning grey
Poetry - Discovering a Horrible Truth while Dumping the Rubbish By Joe Hakim
Moved into this new place-
another momentary sanctuary,
it's in the town centre
-no wheelie bin,
I didn't know what
Poetry - The Short Goodbye (Portrait of the Artist as a Young Bum) By Maurice Fairfield
The door she left through when she left
Was firmly closed but not quite slammed
Her steady step upon the stair
Suggested that his hopes were damned
He glanced around the dingy flat
The faded curtains, threadbare rug
Poetry - A Wake-Up Call By Del Abe Jones.
We have what is known as FEMA
And our "Homeland Security"
The Military, State and Feds
In case of, such a tragedy.
And we also have a President
Poetry - Our Tsunami - 30th August 2005 By Del Abe Jones.
The force of Mother Nature
Has washed upon our shore
With a fierce, hellish fury
Like we've never seen before.
Homes and businesses flooded
By tens of thousands, maybe more
Poetry - Sierra Leone by Lee Cassanell
Pieces of Carbon
For God and the bible
For profit and privilege we reap
A fistful of diamonds
Reducing proud lions
To lost and degraded black sheep.
Poetry - High Noon in Washington By Patrick Henry
High Noon strikes in Washington where George W. rules okay,
Top man in the Wild West where freedom comes by gun law.
From Tombstone to Dallas they'll shoot you if you cross
The wrong way their highway not their way,
And fry you like burgers in the electric chair.
Poetry - Single, yet not alone By Miss Newton
What a great feeling
Being here alone
Books, wine and fags
And the dangerous mobile phone
Options are open
Kisses may be stolen
Poetry - Love Among The Ruins by Maurice Fairfield
When first you swam into my life
I knew that I was hooked
I knew that I was caught at last
My goose was really cooked
I thought that I'd thrown in my hand
My playing days were over
Poetry - Storm in Western Cemetery By Tim Jarvis
Drums in the canopy pounding,
Rain fists on timpani leafs roar.
Looking up from James Henwood's stone,
Awestruck beneath the thundering dome.
Too soon the fat drops will come,
Falling on the Madonna and I.
Poetry - The day the bombs went off by Lee Cassanell
I watched my Dad explode last week
I couldn't help but laugh,
He'd bought an almond cake for tea and paid for a new bath
My mother cried
And so did I
He had a leek and tatty pie
Poetry - Port of Call By Patrick Henry
Sailor home from the sea, soldier back from the war,
Who are you? This has never been told
To those meant to be nearest, or even yourself
Through wild years playing your part round the world.
Tinker, rover, soldier, sailor: all set deep in your Northern race;
Poetry - The Cup That Cheers By Patrick Henry
The reds, the underdog team they were up
For the Final night of the Europe Cup.
We wished them the best backing Liverpool,
The rough old port where hope was born,
Where you'll find no trees nor scented breeze,
Nor fields of waving corn;
Poetry - Red Fox Blues By Patrick Henry
I'm blue, but not true blue that way
Of the high mighty rich who took my town away.
Blue sounds of protest stand for those in need to say
Light from the hard left should shine back some sweet day
Lady Day sang the blues are nothing but a cold grey day,
Poetry - Boner, Johnny and Bob by Adam Atkinson
My name's Mr Bono
and my name's Elton John
I'm helping out with Bob's Live Aid
to try and sell this song
I'm acting sympathetic
to Africa's grave plight
Poetry - Memories of the Royal and Ancient City of Hull By Maurice Fairfield
Now if you are an Ull Kid
Or if you used to be one
No matter where you wander
Or how long you're gone
Then from your deepest psyche
Memories you'll cull
Poetry - The Liberal Movement Sucks! By Adam Atkinson
Druggies, lefties and suckers
Sponging off the dole
Preachin' to me bout politics
Shove it up ya ole
Sittin' on their arses
Smokin' on their fags
Poetry - Stabbing a Word to Death in Broad Daylight By Joe Hakim
Don't say it
don't even mention it.
Don't say it
because you don't
Don't say it
Poetry - A Sincere, Heartfelt Apology to my Stomach, Intestines and Guts in General by Joe Hakim
I don't know
if it's more for myself,
but seeing as you