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Poetry
From Kathman to San Fran
By Steve Rudd

From Kathman to San Fran
Round the canyon and then some
Routine cheques withheld ransom
I'm gonna go get 'em..

From the same toilet seat, contracting curry house blues
I'm a nosy Postman Pat junkie, Orange asks 'how r u?'

Noticing life's beauty on senseless death beds
Smoking's not cool, diseased fool - in the heart or the head.

Resuscitating a love life harder than Mike Tyson in a tank -
If you've got the issues, we've got the tissues
And he got the psycho skank, oh man..

TALK IS CHEAP, HALLE
BUT I SCREAM KATHMANDU!
VIDEO NIGHTS CHEAPER
AS AN ANGEL WEEPS WOLF, BECAUSE SHE'S THROUGH
WITH BALLING OVER SORROW DROWNED SECRETS,
JUST COME AND TALK TO ME
THEN WE'LL LEAVE THIS TOWN TOO.

I can't provide, I can't provide what
Every post-modern man does - I'm not
Conditioned to lie.
We rule the world when we're drunk
Courtesy of extra-sensory perception.

At what price freedom, a cut price threesome -
A boy in love with an older woman, hell
As long as they're happy..

TALK IS CHEAP, HALLE
BUT I SCREAM KATHMANDU!
VIDEO NIGHTS CHEAPER
AS AN ANGEL WEEPS WOLF, BECAUSE SHE'S THROUGH
WITH BALLING OVER SORROW DROWNED SECRETS,
JUST COME AND TALK TO ME
THEN WE'LL LEAVE THIS TOWN TOO.

I can see flying fists from a good mile off
Because they always land in my direction.

Living on a bit of borrowed time
Crawling down the coastal road to San Francisco, go

And rule the world while you're drunk -
For once sober the illusion shatters.

Copyright © Steve Rudd 2004

Poetry - Silent Past, Little White Lie and In The Shadows
By Amy Rout 16
I saw you lurking in the shadows
I thought you were following me
I turned around to look
But only your silhouette I could see
A silhouette means nothing at all
Just the figure of a face Read more...

Poetry - 21st Century Goddamn! By Anthea
I am of a certain age,
The 1960s, were mine.
Bob Dylan sang to us
Of the death of Medgar Evers.
Near half a century ago.
On the far side of the ocean. Read more...

Poetry - Ballad of a Jack and Jill By Lee Cassanell
The glare of the hot sun explodes in my face
A cigarette slow burns in takeaway waste,
I lie with the lights off in party smeared threads
Need coffee and OJ but can't feel my legs,
The jungle was massive that's why I'm so tired Read more...

Poetry - Dancing in the street By Anthea
When I walked into Marrakech,
Everybody said, hello, to me.
I walked Beverley Road, last February,
So I tried the technique of Crocodile Dundee:
I said, hello, to everybody.
And, that's how I met Dominic! Read more...

Poetry - Elizabeth Bennett at the Curry House By Jane Foster
All day before she prepared the white dress,
Not knowing how it would end up a mess..
She fastened her bonnet and powdered her face
And set off for the joy that was Ray's Place.
She took to her seat, tried hard to be modest
Read more...

Poetry - The Aquanaut By Lee Cassanell
A heartbreak hotel on the back streets of sin cross the road from a bar of hellfire
Awakened by horns songs of champagne and blondes are the essence of all he aspires
The Aquanaut swims through the excess of oil that cascade from the car pool of stars Read more...

Poetry - On The Tiles By Lee Cassanell
When I look back at the end of my life
I'll remember the night with my substitute wife
In a Tavern near Cork were the locals still talk
Of the Drinkers who crawled out the sea.
I came to that place with a harem of hippies
Read more...

Poetry - Rag and Bone Men By Jane Foster
Whilst languishing in bed this morning
I heard the sound of men in the distance..
The ones from days long past, with carts and horses,
Rusting spare parts, weathered necks,
And that old familiar drone:
Any Rag? Bone? Read more...

Poetry - Confessions of a Codeine Smoker
By Lee Cassanell
I sit with spiders
On Webs of Fly's
In rooms of damp and squalor
A coiled up spring
The mist I'm in
Will all clear by tomorrow Read more...

Poetry - The Plumber By Maurice Fairfield
Behold the plumber where he stands
His wrenches gleaming in his hands
His jaw is square, his eye is keen
His belly flat his body lean.
No common man, his hire comes high
His hourly rate is in the sky Read more...

Poetry - Long Green Overcoats and Late Night Holly Oakes
By Lee Cassanell
Never smoke at dinner,
Never smoke at dawn,
Never smoke somebody's grass or mow somebody's lawn.
Never smoke your sister,
Never smoke your friends, Read more...

Poetry - He Comes at Night By Michelle Dee
On a dark night, so cold a night
the wind hollering at my door.
Silver light breaking through my window
I lay there paralysed with anticipation
Suddenly he comes to me screaming my name
He was there in that very room Read more...

Poetry - The Queen, The Angel, And The Scribe
By Rhonnie Besonday
Across a nation three lives meet,
Lives alike and yet unknown.
Strangers to each other,
Yet three women of faith.
One woman a Queen in power,
Another Angel in sorrow and pain. Read more...

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