Rotting meat lined the walls
of the spot where the crime was committed
Locked from the outside
Shut in as the oil burned,
the smoke engulfing,
the flames consuming the people as they screamed, "Let me out"
but the indentations of the footprints on the door spoke loudest
They spoke of 25 beautiful faces
lost in pursuit of the American Dream.®

Both sides opened up the doors to their once-closed countrysides.
the intense light that shined into their once dark eyes
lit up their once grey skies
in result...
such color changes had changed their once heavy and drowning pride
once sinking into the despair of mistrustful quicksands
of each other
through long-range binoculars
The now once close-up and handshaking meeting
through the opening of these once closed doors
was nothing under "Spectacular."
******* from chains of Mind-Limited training from ancestors on how to lead their people
breaking into the freed world
for their wills to explore a freer
and ingenious means in which to advance a more obsolete and dying nation...
the voices of hunger and change had broken open the barrier of light
to those ideas vacating,
A fireworks level celebration.
As to arms leads to death
Hand in hand
Side by side alliance leads to strength and advancement of future
leads
our two  nations
to salvation
Ways to fuse the divided cuts of division like a medical suture.
Now, as we grow to know and to trust one another, both sides can learn
one another's bright cultures
while abandoning other notions
that was ill-founded by ideology and myth
and empower us with much more.
growth and change
prosperity
and even
Unity
New people ruled by a leader that saw the real world through his bare eyes
rather than through the machine
now can equal with us the means
in which to live a united life
Happy and to others in conflict
A better  a way to live
as brothers in the world
Large, happy, and clean.

We are all northern people
On this northern rail train, delayed.
Going to our northern homes in our northern towns,
Where our family ensures 'a brew' is awaiting upon our arrival

A ginger tom cat sleeps on the chair,
Awoken.
By a northern man getting off in his Wigan town,                                                            ­                                      
Where smiling strangers stroll, and neighbours know your name.
Bleep! Bleep! The closing doors lock out the draft of our cold towns, our coal towns,    
where the Sun is forbidden yet the local paper thrives throughout our lives,
despite the charity shops, pound bakery’s and grave size *** holes that **** our cars,                                                            ­                         we are proud to call this home, proud to be northern.

Tragedy ruins
Barricades
And dams
within
Minds,
Releasing
Memories
-Thoughts-
Thought to be
Confined
And restrained
Beneath
Clean beds,
Behind
Closed doors,
Far from
The confines
Of comfort

Tragedy is
Reminiscent
Of people
Places
Or things
That never
Change,
Never could

Tragedy is
Perpetual,
Steeping in
Contentment,
Releasing
Notes of
Burning oak
Gasoline
And oxides
Into
the lungs
Of innocents
And
The uneducated,
Never to
Understand
That both
Beauty
And privilege
Are nurtured by
The arms
Of tragedy

IV

North of Never lies Nothing
Lies more never.
Lies a voided ether,
My future.
North of Never lies the Fall,
My sleeping quarters.

Selling this property
Will not be easy.
Not in this county,
Not this economy
Or country.
North of Never is freezing,
Property value is low,
It's time for me to go,
But where?
I've only ever
Been North of Never,
What else is there?
After the Fall,
There was nothing.
What better place is there for me
Than North of Never?
My future North of Never?

V

North of Never is South of Society,
An inkier sea than nothing
Is the heart of society.
I live on the border
Where Society ends and Never starts.
Where Society ends is where havoc starts,
As if, for all of its flaws,
Society is still worth something more than nothing.
No longer strange how fearful they are
Of being kicked out.

Havoc is the name of the county
North of Never,
Hence the low number of inquisitors
Looking to buy my property.
I only wanted it because it was so cheap,
The true price was not listed.
At the time, the true price
Had not existed.

When I bought this property, I was alone.
I was satisfied with being alone.
I had never known any else,
Any better.
When I bought this property,
I bought a lifestyle,
Where morning starts at ten am
And sleep comes never.

VII

I am burning in a fire I lit.
I made my bed and now lie in it,
But I never realised how thorny
A bed of roses would be.
I have made mistakes.

This house is my biggest mistake.
Becoming the Fall was my biggest mistake.
They are the same thing after all,
For North of Never lies my home,
Lies the Fall.

Turn Around…by Jessie 5/06

Turn around; make your way
From the South up to the North
Freedoms there… go get it!
It’s waiting at every port
Turn around; make your way
Through the thickets and the mud
Take the hand of your fellow man
Wipe away his blood
Turn around; he’s coming
The dogs are on your heels
Keep down low; don’t make a sound
Or the master’s whip you’ll feel
Turn around; make your way
Follow the stars above
Travel by night, so you don’t get caught
If freedoms what you love
Turn around; make your way
Some of you will die
The price of freedoms costly
Cheaper to live a lie
Turn around; don’t look back
What you seek, is the other way
Suppress the fear and inclination
To hide your dreams and stay
Turn around; make the run
Time is running out
Masters getting closer
Of that there is no doubt
Turn around; freedom calls
It beckons, sweet the sound
Milk and honey on the other side
Trail north of town