Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"nottingham" poems
This week has been very long so far                                               Maybe because I mashed my head on Saturday,                         But Joe turned up to surprise his Ma,                                             Would have bin rude not to share the MDMA. But what goes up has to come down, We had our fun, our chats, our tunes. On Sunday he was Nottingham bound Monday  a pin-pricked balloon. Overcompensation followed I Frontlined the pets, took the cat to the vets, did the weekly shop, used the hoover and mop.......watched "The Waltons"........I made pies and mash, grieved for spent cash, looked for a job, tried not to open my gob..........watched "The Waltons"......I sorted the cupboards, mixed up my words, misheard repeatedly, had great thoughts ...fleetingly........watched "The Waltons" Finally Friday beckons invitedly, a time of unwinding. I can't believe that in the past I would have bin planning   More pill taking excitedly.More fun and lights blinding But thank god I'm too old to be young .....       Must be  soon Spring.
0
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
The Visit
******* caught in a razor blade crevice of a smart phone left broken on the floor of a public bathroom in a run-down bar in Nottingham (with battery and SIM removed) and like a run-on sentence the scene grows monotonous.
0
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Saving The Ice Caps by Recycling Motifs (Thursday Night, Drunken on Drugs and Passed Out on a Tiled Floor)
1431 poems in ye old inbox, genteel knocking, whispering thru stolid front door love me a little lot, little lot, love me? this is not mere work product, collegial-laid upon me for gentle shared, for pre-review, Nottingham Forest arrowed, bow shaped pithy comments, these are the holy-of-the-holies attention-me-crystal-cries, prayers, wry observations, nature collations, me and thee adorations, heart rendering screams of need, these are the moments in your life raw-roughened gifted or threaded smooth cursed, but tendered unto my caring. (an aside: perhaps you understand better now why woman-in-the-moon imagery, red bowed, grapefruit tasting hearts, all the lovelies, word shape shifts a/k/a Imagery language delights! but time-using, confusingly confuses, and has been erased from my own poetry frame) gnawing doubt me routs, god gave me humans, and gave them speech, to bring me closer to him thru them. somewhere in those 1431 essays of labor, dashed off, handcrafted, pithy or poor, just might be the one justification for my opening my eyes this poetry someday Sunday sun-day. put the cofe on (saving letters, saving time, deleting unnecessary e's from my life till when I am dying on all-on-that desperate e-n-ee-dy day). loaded my shotgun heart with loves and likes, yellow thunderbolt bullets firing, and considered yourself notified I'm a-coming over, shoes on the cofe table, breaking taboo's gonna read 1431 and when dining done, gonna pay attention to my muse, my woman, cause she is the original e, that provides the raw materials, in ye old nat-box, that lets me love ever one of them, she is the e in me and me will be in you, starting now.
0
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 6:57 AM UTC
1431
1431 poems in ye old inbox, genteel knocking, whispering thru stolid front door love me a little lot, little lot, love me? this is not mere work product, collegial-laid upon me for gentle shared, for pre-review, Nottingham Forest arrowed, bow shaped pithy comments, these are the holy-of-the-holies attention-me-crystal-cries, prayers, wry observations, nature collations, me and thee adorations, heart rendering screams of need, these are the moments in your life raw-roughened gifted or threaded smooth cursed, but tendered unto my caring. (an aside: perhaps you understand better now why woman-in-the-moon imagery, red bowed, grapefruit tasting hearts, all the lovelies, word shape shifts a/k/a Imagery language delights! but time-using, confusingly confuses, and has been erased from my own poetry frame) gnawing doubt me routs, god gave me humans, and gave them speech, to bring me closer to him thru them. somewhere in those 1431 essays of labor, dashed off, handcrafted, pithy or poor, just might be the one justification for my opening my eyes this poetry someday Sunday sun-day. put the cofe on (saving letters, saving time, deleting unnecessary e's from my life till when I am dying on all-on-that desperate e-n-ee-dy day). loaded my shotgun heart with loves and likes, yellow thunderbolt bullets firing, and considered yourself notified I'm a-coming over, shoes on the cofe table, breaking taboo's gonna read 1431 and when dining done, gonna pay attention to my muse, my woman, cause she is the original e, that provides the raw materials, in ye old nat-box, that lets me love ever one of them, she is the e in me and me will be in you, starting now.
Continue reading...
64
It is in the lazy, hazy days of late summer In the heat, a daisy parts company My body perspires and sends a shimmer Of sparkling salt down my spine and skin A rose stands straight like cadet, red Like his beret, standing as proud as he. A tropical butterfly dances within The petals of the rose, tickling the row. The wind whispers its petals So secretly, so delicately, to and fro. The butterfly wears a brave face Watching the daisy and the rose With wings just like Nottingham lace. In the heat, my body embraces its wings And it kisses my hand, knowing its place In the lazy, hazy days of the summer.
0
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 11:19 PM UTC
A Tropical Butterfly
It is in the lazy, hazy days of late summer In the heat, a daisy parts company My body perspires and sends a shimmer Of sparkling salt down my spine and skin A rose stands straight like cadet, red Like his beret, standing as proud as he. A tropical butterfly dances within The petals of the rose, tickling the row. The wind whispers its petals So secretly, so delicately, to and fro. The butterfly wears a brave face Watching the daisy and the rose With wings just like Nottingham lace. In the heat, my body embraces its wings And it kisses my hand, knowing its place In the lazy, hazy days of the summer.
0
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 2:41 AM UTC
Tropical Butterflies
34 / Million-To-One Way Street, London [3] (Emma Clark, BBC, BBC), German and Russian, the main $22.2 billion home / Netscape MD 3100 Axiata / Russia / 1683 at Ariel, George 2) 12,300 AB (Boston 600 to 12), Italy, Japan, Guillaume Lucy 342 in Hawaii, Russia, Hawaii, 21 BCE 1000 1000 May 12, 2001 | / i / 0 0 (9 0 6) 342 6, 16 and 16, four, | |    || Italy, Japan, Georgia, Russia) 342 (10) / 100,000, Krishna 34. In 2008, the Consolidated Chancellor of the United States of America, 1004 London, 1000 4, 00, George, 4) Stacey Kentucky, 1683 Louisville CFR (Boston, 2006) 2005 Nottingham 8 (100) 000 100, 000), Country (Boston, 600, 12) , Italy, Japan, Georgia, California, 34 / B] | (3-Emma Clark BBBCBBC), Russia, Walter and George's Sham in the jungle 22 million (12) USA (44) Asia 3100 GJ / Russia / Jordan Jordan 3300 163 16 16 22 John Stathy in 1683 12 (300) and Bruk (Boston) 12600342 [Romanian Physician 8] | (12) Belima (m) 2100 34 35 Like Valerie, | Breed 4.4 / Ed Statsy (16) 23 Janavar, 2001| (E) and 0:10 / produce (00 9 00 00.0 Greece (10) (Armenia, Italy, Japan, Georgia, California), USA (21) - German Ethics L074k23lk683 23 100 / fifth 12 minutes London, 2008 Fourth, | Nood-oo Bumma (1), Hiroshi Brahma (62), 12 and her father 100 000 100 grams) KI: Italy, Italy, ||War Pigs Gen'rals gathered in their masses, Just like witches at black masses Evil minds that plot destruction, Sorcerer of death's construction In the fields the bodies burning, As the war machine keeps turning Death and hatred to mankind, Poisoning their brainwashed minds Oh Lord yeah Politicians hide themselves away They only started the war Why should they go out to fight? They leave that role for the poor, yeah Time will tell on their power minds, Making war just for fun Treating people just like pawns in chess, Wait 'till their judgement day comes, yeah Now in darkness world stops turning, Ashes where the bodies burning No more War Pigs have the power, Hand of God has struck the hour Day of judgement, God is calling On their knees the war pigs crawling, Begging mercies for their sins Satan, laughing, spreads his wings Oh Lord yeah!
0
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 1:02 AM UTC
❤Untitled & War Pigs [Black Sabbath]ላውራ ❤♀︎☉♀︎
34 / Million-To-One Way Street, London [3] (Emma Clark, BBC, BBC), German and Russian, the main $22.2 billion home / Netscape MD 3100 Axiata / Russia / 1683 at Ariel, George 2) 12,300 AB (Boston 600 to 12), Italy, Japan, Guillaume Lucy 342 in Hawaii, Russia, Hawaii, 21 BCE 1000 1000 May 12, 2001 | / i / 0 0 (9 0 6) 342 6, 16 and 16, four, | |    || Italy, Japan, Georgia, Russia) 342 (10) / 100,000, Krishna 34. In 2008, the Consolidated Chancellor of the United States of America, 1004 London, 1000 4, 00, George, 4) Stacey Kentucky, 1683 Louisville CFR (Boston, 2006) 2005 Nottingham 8 (100) 000 100, 000), Country (Boston, 600, 12) , Italy, Japan, Georgia, California, 34 / B] | (3-Emma Clark BBBCBBC), Russia, Walter and George's Sham in the jungle 22 million (12) USA (44) Asia 3100 GJ / Russia / Jordan Jordan 3300 163 16 16 22 John Stathy in 1683 12 (300) and Bruk (Boston) 12600342 [Romanian Physician 8] | (12) Belima (m) 2100 34 35 Like Valerie, | Breed 4.4 / Ed Statsy (16) 23 Janavar, 2001| (E) and 0:10 / produce (00 9 00 00.0 Greece (10) (Armenia, Italy, Japan, Georgia, California), USA (21) - German Ethics L074k23lk683 23 100 / fifth 12 minutes London, 2008 Fourth, | Nood-oo Bumma (1), Hiroshi Brahma (62), 12 and her father 100 000 100 grams) KI: Italy, Italy, ||War Pigs Gen'rals gathered in their masses, Just like witches at black masses Evil minds that plot destruction, Sorcerer of death's construction In the fields the bodies burning, As the war machine keeps turning Death and hatred to mankind, Poisoning their brainwashed minds Oh Lord yeah Politicians hide themselves away They only started the war Why should they go out to fight? They leave that role for the poor, yeah Time will tell on their power minds, Making war just for fun Treating people just like pawns in chess, Wait 'till their judgement day comes, yeah Now in darkness world stops turning, Ashes where the bodies burning No more War Pigs have the power, Hand of God has struck the hour Day of judgement, God is calling On their knees the war pigs crawling, Begging mercies for their sins Satan, laughing, spreads his wings Oh Lord yeah!
Continue reading...
58
She once was a girl growing up in Chandlers Ford Meanwhile it was in Warwick that he matured Years later once they had both reached an age They each moved to Nottingham where loves’ foundations were laid There they worked on the same degree And together went the same nightclub weekly Where he let it known to him she were pretty So became special place this for them; Rock City It was just the beginning of what fun they would share Gigs and festivals they’d embrace as a pair Always enjoying most the Maccabees Music was their making of happy memories Until lifes’ professional path forced them astray Seeds of love planted, but not together everyday Weekends back and forth as a long distance lover The wait would be worth it once back with one another Some time passed and now both secure in a job They felt a shared future they were sure of So in each other they would invest Henley-on-Thames they went to build a nest Where they welcomed the new addition of pets A pair of rabbits who they’ll never forget For they’re the first lives together cared for Which has been a success so let’s hope for more! Now content and secure Yet with still room for more They hoped for a place to call their own So in Wargrave they brought their first home And filled it with the things that they shared More than ever they felt together paired True commitment awaited just one more thing He took her to Brighton to present a ring This brings us now to here today Two families meet at Malmesbury; their halfway And with friends here all to celebrate The love that Tom and Hana have made We witness them begin their next phase in life The exciting togetherness of man and wife A relationship they should wear with pride We all know for him she is the perfect bride Officially now linked at the heart June 22nd is where these Hutchinsons start Adventure commencing with African Safari And relaxing beach for honeymoon A pleasure that will pass all too soon But from there they will live in one guarantee Wherever next will be together As they are most happily
0
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
Their Location is Love
She once was a girl growing up in Chandlers Ford Meanwhile it was in Warwick that he matured Years later once they had both reached an age They each moved to Nottingham where loves’ foundations were laid There they worked on the same degree And together went the same nightclub weekly Where he let it known to him she were pretty So became special place this for them; Rock City It was just the beginning of what fun they would share Gigs and festivals they’d embrace as a pair Always enjoying most the Maccabees Music was their making of happy memories Until lifes’ professional path forced them astray Seeds of love planted, but not together everyday Weekends back and forth as a long distance lover The wait would be worth it once back with one another Some time passed and now both secure in a job They felt a shared future they were sure of So in each other they would invest Henley-on-Thames they went to build a nest Where they welcomed the new addition of pets A pair of rabbits who they’ll never forget For they’re the first lives together cared for Which has been a success so let’s hope for more! Now content and secure Yet with still room for more They hoped for a place to call their own So in Wargrave they brought their first home And filled it with the things that they shared More than ever they felt together paired True commitment awaited just one more thing He took her to Brighton to present a ring This brings us now to here today Two families meet at Malmesbury; their halfway And with friends here all to celebrate The love that Tom and Hana have made We witness them begin their next phase in life The exciting togetherness of man and wife A relationship they should wear with pride We all know for him she is the perfect bride Officially now linked at the heart June 22nd is where these Hutchinsons start Adventure commencing with African Safari And relaxing beach for honeymoon A pleasure that will pass all too soon But from there they will live in one guarantee Wherever next will be together As they are most happily
Continue reading...
48
I shall gallivant after dark when droves of waves depart at dusk to point a gun at Mortimer here still swears allegiance to France but bid my bride on coach farewell only to surmise inheritance again how treacherous the streets lurk there's upheaval in every crypt so peruse if your dreams scheme with mine tonight with a legion in silhouette as her benevolent shall copulate even corporeal lie mosey and to pretend such revolution here only justice might enhance constitution on the road with sound where golem ampleness in sweat still sings a melody this ritual part in excellent lore that would succumb world in the dark if gander again jog along memory lane while seance must intrigue each tog that Nottingham's still absorption and namely a craft in situ just to incept a suffragette abdication abound this an extant with luxury again and forthwith evermore.
0
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 8:30 AM UTC
A Flight Of Fancy
I awoke in a grave of an over-grown wood, Where above my head the treetops stood, And a light shone the timber and brush of the ground, Where the moss of all ages created a mound, The weeds were extreme in their length everywhere, - Leaving in sight not a single plant bare. Then I spied from the scene just to the west, The wings of an eagle poking out from a nest, I climbed from my grave and proceeded to call, When he dropped what he had in the pit of his claw A ring rolled out into the dried prickly grass, The gem of a ruby as shiny as glass, The gem was laced from top to bottom in gold, And carved inside, two initials in bold. The eagle stared with large curious eyes, As he turned with great haste up toward the skies, He opened his beak, and let out a screech, "A human a human, a soul-sucking leach!" When in minutes I heard a strange pounding occur, - their faces in numbers came, in a blur, I gazed upon the massive structures of beasts, Over one hundred species I counted at least. They pulled me with force to their chests with a roar, As we started with haste through the arboreous floor, Then coming out into an opening pass, - I gazed up the face of a broad rocky-mass, With urge it had seemed it was up we were bound, We trudged up a steep incline in the ground, Two towers formed at the top of the mountain, As we hiked up the rock past a lion-head fountain. We climbed a great length over dirt, weeds, and gravel, With the towers ahead growing more in our travel. I looked at the faces, the snouts, and the beaks, I could hear the snorts, the grunts, and the squeaks. Their claws inching further with strength in their grip, I could hardly keep up as I started to slip, They would cry victory in their native tongue, With howling and croaking both old and the young, I retreated my steps but they held on too tight, The gravel rolled back as I started to fight. They snarled and drooled and gleamed their red eyes, As the towers in front continued to rise.©
0
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
Nottingham (An excerpt!) Need Opinions!
I awoke in a grave of an over-grown wood, Where above my head the treetops stood, And a light shone the timber and brush of the ground, Where the moss of all ages created a mound, The weeds were extreme in their length everywhere, - Leaving in sight not a single plant bare. Then I spied from the scene just to the west, The wings of an eagle poking out from a nest, I climbed from my grave and proceeded to call, When he dropped what he had in the pit of his claw A ring rolled out into the dried prickly grass, The gem of a ruby as shiny as glass, The gem was laced from top to bottom in gold, And carved inside, two initials in bold. The eagle stared with large curious eyes, As he turned with great haste up toward the skies, He opened his beak, and let out a screech, "A human a human, a soul-sucking leach!" When in minutes I heard a strange pounding occur, - their faces in numbers came, in a blur, I gazed upon the massive structures of beasts, Over one hundred species I counted at least. They pulled me with force to their chests with a roar, As we started with haste through the arboreous floor, Then coming out into an opening pass, - I gazed up the face of a broad rocky-mass, With urge it had seemed it was up we were bound, We trudged up a steep incline in the ground, Two towers formed at the top of the mountain, As we hiked up the rock past a lion-head fountain. We climbed a great length over dirt, weeds, and gravel, With the towers ahead growing more in our travel. I looked at the faces, the snouts, and the beaks, I could hear the snorts, the grunts, and the squeaks. Their claws inching further with strength in their grip, I could hardly keep up as I started to slip, They would cry victory in their native tongue, With howling and croaking both old and the young, I retreated my steps but they held on too tight, The gravel rolled back as I started to fight. They snarled and drooled and gleamed their red eyes, As the towers in front continued to rise.©
Continue reading...
42
It is in the lazy, hazy days of late summer In the heat, a daisy parts company My body perspires and sends a shimmer Of sparkling salt down my spine and skin A rose stands straight like cadet, red Like his beret, standing as proud as he. A tropical butterfly dances within The petals of the rose, tickling the row. The wind whispers its petals So secretly, so delicately, to and fro. The butterfly wears a brave face Watching the daisy and the rose With wings just like Nottingham lace. In the heat, my body embraces its wings And it kisses my hand, knowing its place In the lazy, hazy days of the summer.
0
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
A Tropical Butterfly - a repost
part i Sardine in a cardboard box you cradle me in your arms. Your voice burns the cold Winter in my mind. I feel you caress again: I rest my eyes Your arms locked in mine, minutes perfect time stops. We leap forward into an final kiss. We leave the place behind. Nights adventurers wandering through streets, half alive half dead we never sleep. Part ii I hoped sunday would never come we depart; we wait for the train. seven, eight, nine both insane. Two swollen eyes, twp shaking limbs, a sore head: t-shirt soaked in ***** cider mingled in cigarette stains... That awful, awkward wait to Leicester. We stare in silence: we say no more.
0
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 3:01 PM UTC
Night In Nottingham
light takes a sharp turn at the village gate of Nottingham
0
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 8:21 PM UTC
The Village Gate of Nottingham
In the midst of a summer day, With the sun gleaming golden brown I wake up to find a flickering ray, That interferes with my thinking crown. I'm sitting down on my bed, And travelling to far-off harbours I cannot think of anything else, But just the magical grandeurs. I've reached the Crow's shore of Ketterdam, And am sailing for Hogsmeade The Ferolind's joltingly reached Nottingham, And I'm not thinking of nothing else. The purple tulips, the marvellous castle, All shiny on a shining day The wind's whistles, the leave's rustle, All make me delightful on this day. The world seems so tiny, From up above the blue skies The Firebolt I'm now riding, Seems to supress the little lies I used to take in as a child. Suddenly everything's so harsh, I think I'm in the land of the White Witch I crave for Turkish Delight so hard, That I know not of the awaiting risk Into the dark castle, as the daughter of eve. I was so lost in the mysterious magical whirlwind, I think I've travelled far, but not even a mile When I open my eyes, I clearly see the still wind Of dust, crime and fraudulence all in a pile That tempts me to snivel for the fair play, Since I'm the lost girl and the world, a treacherous display.
0
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 2:14 AM UTC
The Lost Girl
Thomas, born of Jesus July, Germany, art, Louise, sound, music, Number, future, statue, hair, white, people, brain, gold, year, man, Keyword year: the problem of peace, which promotes fire, theft on trees. Voice of North Nottingham from Winter Garden in Fiji The whole crystalline mind is like a dog in the style of an Australian Muslim. The Brutal Church remembers the first planet of all planetary plants on planet Earth. Peoples and NFL ***** pedal, pedal, pedal, pedals and people, people, pedals, their clothes, gloves, eyes, cats and paradises. Sandy Shaheed Keywords: death, death, ghost town, spraying, drama, divorce, big, planet William, friends, dear love, baby, it's not fun, fun. List of hair in the park; Ivan speaks of something neutral and surprising that's the city when it comes to a very neutral healthy star. Westston William William, Thomas, Jason Thomas, Amaker Lama, Germany, France, Italy, World Music, System Support. We find a box in the box and find Kilem Thomas, Thomas, Thomas and Thomas in your family, what do you think? Nine birds have provided wonderful construction projects that offer features and services to consumers and stars. Etoile Etoile off!
0
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 6:00 AM UTC
The Uk - Brutal Church
Springhollow. Something broken, something borrowed. Friction fighting flesh Against my white stained pillow. Middlesex. Promising perfection in excess. Cutting palms with lovely letters. He was seven. I was six. Nottingham. Proclaiming to know the promised land. Wrecking ball through golden temples. Romantic fixations. Romantically ******
0
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 5:28 PM UTC
take your places
If I should say to the king, I will bring you this ring Glory be to his great And powerful majesty, Who sits on the royal throne, Ruling over the Great Land Of Nottingham Wearing seal and royal Crown of the King, Appointed me knight In shiny amour with orders To crush and flush The insurgency From the enchanted lands, And long live the King Of Nottingham At last, victory Is on our side, And we shall not be moved As we march through The village gates of doom, fear not, Our blades are sharpened, And blessed by the Church of England And we know them well, We pause to drink sweet nectar With the angels of glory Precious, enchanted drinking well, Your beauty dwells deep In the earth’s domain, And I am prepared to take The endless plunge To greet your eternal love
0
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
If I Should Say - Part II
The only gas lamp left in the street Was sitting outside my door, The rest now lay on a ******* heap Had been cleared some years before, But strangely, all of the mist that once Obscured the street from sight, Now hung and clung to that gas lamp frame And darkened my door at night. I’d stand and stare through my window there Whenever the mist was high, Painting the drains and window panes In the glow of the gas lamp eye, And those that passed in the street at night Would flicker and then be gone, Just like a scene on the silver screen They would pause, then hurry along. And that’s when I saw the girl out there One misty night, about ten, All dressed up for a late night show She’d certainly go, but when? She wore a dress in a style I’d thought More in Victorian taste, A woollen shawl and a bonnet, small, And a bodice of Nottingham lace. She’d disappear in the swirling mist Then reappear in the glow, She’d cling on tight to the gas lamp post, She wasn’t ready to go, Perhaps she waited for someone there I thought, how lucky he’d be, She looked so beautiful, standing where I’d wish she was waiting for me. She seemed to come every friday night But only during a mist, If only she would knock at my door I thought, I couldn’t resist. One friday night it began to rain, And she looked in a great distress Now I could venture to ask her in If only to save her dress. I stepped right up and opened the door, Her image would flicker and fade, I saw her turn, and stare from the glow That the old gas lamp had made, ‘So there you are,’ came her breezy voice, ‘I’ve been waiting here, you see, Every friday at ten o’clock Since 1893.’ That was the moment the lamp blew out In a strong and sudden gust, The glow, the rain and the girl had gone With the mist remaining, just, I stand alone by the window pane And I peer into the mist, To search forever the girl who came That I saw, but never kissed. David Lewis Paget
0
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
The Gas Lamp Ghost
The only gas lamp left in the street Was sitting outside my door, The rest now lay on a ******* heap Had been cleared some years before, But strangely, all of the mist that once Obscured the street from sight, Now hung and clung to that gas lamp frame And darkened my door at night. I’d stand and stare through my window there Whenever the mist was high, Painting the drains and window panes In the glow of the gas lamp eye, And those that passed in the street at night Would flicker and then be gone, Just like a scene on the silver screen They would pause, then hurry along. And that’s when I saw the girl out there One misty night, about ten, All dressed up for a late night show She’d certainly go, but when? She wore a dress in a style I’d thought More in Victorian taste, A woollen shawl and a bonnet, small, And a bodice of Nottingham lace. She’d disappear in the swirling mist Then reappear in the glow, She’d cling on tight to the gas lamp post, She wasn’t ready to go, Perhaps she waited for someone there I thought, how lucky he’d be, She looked so beautiful, standing where I’d wish she was waiting for me. She seemed to come every friday night But only during a mist, If only she would knock at my door I thought, I couldn’t resist. One friday night it began to rain, And she looked in a great distress Now I could venture to ask her in If only to save her dress. I stepped right up and opened the door, Her image would flicker and fade, I saw her turn, and stare from the glow That the old gas lamp had made, ‘So there you are,’ came her breezy voice, ‘I’ve been waiting here, you see, Every friday at ten o’clock Since 1893.’ That was the moment the lamp blew out In a strong and sudden gust, The glow, the rain and the girl had gone With the mist remaining, just, I stand alone by the window pane And I peer into the mist, To search forever the girl who came That I saw, but never kissed. David Lewis Paget
Continue reading...
57
Hello, we've reviewed your application, we're based just down the road from Nottingham station. Can you make it in? We'd love to see you, follow the signs, and walk straight through. I filled out the form with help from a friend, but he didn't get the call, which I can't comprehend. So, just me off to see the manager, wear a shirt, plain white, and of course a tie but not too tight. I sit down, we talk, it's going well. "So, why do you want to work here?" "Because I'm broke as hell?" "I mean, I love what you sell." "Name three of your main strengths" God, not this, I always think they're taking the **** Three things? So what do they need? I'm honest, punctual, and work well in a team? I'm in there for ages. I thought this would be quick, I hope I didn't sound too thick. Maybe my answers did the trick? I replay it in my head, over and over, I just don't know how it's going to go. I'm stressed as I walk back to the bus, that was a lot of effort for an evening job at Toys R Us.
0
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 9:08 PM UTC
Interview
You sit across from me on the 3pm Friday train, taking us from the throbbing heart of Nottingham to the serenity of York. I listen to the same song over and over again for the whole journey. We exchange multiple glances and multiple smiles. I imagine what it must be like for your girlfriend to be wrapped up in your arms. Part of me wishes I was her. You just look like power - the kind of power that could complete me and tear me apart all at once.
0
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 5:54 PM UTC
You, who looks like power
rain makes the sound of splotch splash wee when i dash through rain puddles up to my knees upon the red cobbled streets of Nottingham
0
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 11:47 AM UTC
Upon The Streets of Nottingham
I awoke to eggs and bacon a whiff upon the stairs . my Mamgu loved to cook for me with spot the ball and find the score draw then Off to paint with easel in hand out to grey sky's did st. go .   Then back for lunch , tray in hand with neighbors on the tele , Sons and daughters. and the Sullivan's with cups of tea and cake . Tales of a mouse running up my Fathers trousers , my Aunty Jane and panda cars and Cuckoo clocks , and China dogs upon  a table . And round and round we would go on roundabouts in my Dadcu s. Old Triamph . Then came Dr Beechings With a boo and a hiss , for leaving sacks on his workers heads and how the axe fell on Ystalyfera Station Now he and the Sheriff. Of Nottingham  would make a double act Where's Robin Hood and little John , and that blessed silver arrow ? What of the curtain in the train , Where carriages and people meet ,   and unsteady feet pass by by moving floor , I ask what's behind the curtain ? And by my Mamgus back door a curtain hung , Outside the outdoor privy , Of mice and men let me say again , What s behind the curtain ? Of lazy days of whist and pairs Mamgu and I around the table , Bruno  Tyson , Hand of God , evenings in front of the tele . A mangle  , a washing machine that turned into Captains Log Star date .... A road , Tin  cop cars  racing around a carpet ... Bobby scampering up and down the stairs , The sweet shop my Aunty ran Next door . Pink envelopes with sweets in Then my Dadcus plot of land that over looked the mountain So lovingly tendered , With peas , and runner beans  *** in hand and **** to pick my Dadcu loved to garden . Now I could go on but time moves on and heavens gates await thee , an infant in my Mamgus arms , as Poppy's pepper the fields , Worn on proud men's shirts , in remembrance of the fallen .   And as evening called , Gods creation sang in beautiful sky's  as if to remember , the life of love given up for the servitude of many .
0
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 6:34 AM UTC
Eggs and bacon .
I awoke to eggs and bacon a whiff upon the stairs . my Mamgu loved to cook for me with spot the ball and find the score draw then Off to paint with easel in hand out to grey sky's did st. go .   Then back for lunch , tray in hand with neighbors on the tele , Sons and daughters. and the Sullivan's with cups of tea and cake . Tales of a mouse running up my Fathers trousers , my Aunty Jane and panda cars and Cuckoo clocks , and China dogs upon  a table . And round and round we would go on roundabouts in my Dadcu s. Old Triamph . Then came Dr Beechings With a boo and a hiss , for leaving sacks on his workers heads and how the axe fell on Ystalyfera Station Now he and the Sheriff. Of Nottingham  would make a double act Where's Robin Hood and little John , and that blessed silver arrow ? What of the curtain in the train , Where carriages and people meet ,   and unsteady feet pass by by moving floor , I ask what's behind the curtain ? And by my Mamgus back door a curtain hung , Outside the outdoor privy , Of mice and men let me say again , What s behind the curtain ? Of lazy days of whist and pairs Mamgu and I around the table , Bruno  Tyson , Hand of God , evenings in front of the tele . A mangle  , a washing machine that turned into Captains Log Star date .... A road , Tin  cop cars  racing around a carpet ... Bobby scampering up and down the stairs , The sweet shop my Aunty ran Next door . Pink envelopes with sweets in Then my Dadcus plot of land that over looked the mountain So lovingly tendered , With peas , and runner beans  *** in hand and **** to pick my Dadcu loved to garden . Now I could go on but time moves on and heavens gates await thee , an infant in my Mamgus arms , as Poppy's pepper the fields , Worn on proud men's shirts , in remembrance of the fallen .   And as evening called , Gods creation sang in beautiful sky's  as if to remember , the life of love given up for the servitude of many .
Continue reading...
50
last month, we had the catch up we had been saying we would have for a couple of weeks you asked me how i am doing and i said "i am fine" when i didn't mean fine at all but where is the word to explain this absence in myself. anyway, you were washing the dishes and i was transported to the galley on your little boat i remember the same sound when you cooked me pasta on our first date and we watched some film i had never seen before; i can't remember the one we left the dishes till the next morning but that galley the small space where i would have to side step past you to your bedroom, or the toilet, or sometimes just as an excuse to slowly brush against your body in the small in between the first night, after the second time we ****** fireworks exploded i'm not talking about fireworks in the belly but actual fireworks i'm not sure what colour they were i could have looked out the window which had a makeshift curtain made out of your boxer shorts but i was more interested in the colour of your eyes and how they made the fireworks feel like they were right there in that room with us that tiny room which would not have had room for anybody else but that was its appeal i think that only you and i would exist there in my memory only you and i that time i broke your bed and we laughed while you fixed it on our third date you asked me if i wanted to go to Nottingham or to ikea of course i chose ikea we spent an entire day there before going for pizza and i helped you pick out some draws for your boat you dropped me off at the train station after that where we kissed and you went back probably to install your new draws under your bed that was our last date and i never got to see the new draws under the new bed you eventually also bought so when we talked last month and i asked you how your draws were doing and you laughed "what kind of question is that?" i guess the draws don't remind you of me the same way ikea and the smell of tobacco remind me of you the only thing i bought from ikea was a candle i burnt it months ago it smelt like cinnamon and winter you hated winter scents thought they were cliché i think i burnt the last of us away with that candle watched us slowly melt away but i don't think there was ever an us really we existed there briefly in that small in between too small for the both of us but you knew that all along.
0
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 2:26 PM UTC
on watching you melt away.
last month, we had the catch up we had been saying we would have for a couple of weeks you asked me how i am doing and i said "i am fine" when i didn't mean fine at all but where is the word to explain this absence in myself. anyway, you were washing the dishes and i was transported to the galley on your little boat i remember the same sound when you cooked me pasta on our first date and we watched some film i had never seen before; i can't remember the one we left the dishes till the next morning but that galley the small space where i would have to side step past you to your bedroom, or the toilet, or sometimes just as an excuse to slowly brush against your body in the small in between the first night, after the second time we ****** fireworks exploded i'm not talking about fireworks in the belly but actual fireworks i'm not sure what colour they were i could have looked out the window which had a makeshift curtain made out of your boxer shorts but i was more interested in the colour of your eyes and how they made the fireworks feel like they were right there in that room with us that tiny room which would not have had room for anybody else but that was its appeal i think that only you and i would exist there in my memory only you and i that time i broke your bed and we laughed while you fixed it on our third date you asked me if i wanted to go to Nottingham or to ikea of course i chose ikea we spent an entire day there before going for pizza and i helped you pick out some draws for your boat you dropped me off at the train station after that where we kissed and you went back probably to install your new draws under your bed that was our last date and i never got to see the new draws under the new bed you eventually also bought so when we talked last month and i asked you how your draws were doing and you laughed "what kind of question is that?" i guess the draws don't remind you of me the same way ikea and the smell of tobacco remind me of you the only thing i bought from ikea was a candle i burnt it months ago it smelt like cinnamon and winter you hated winter scents thought they were cliché i think i burnt the last of us away with that candle watched us slowly melt away but i don't think there was ever an us really we existed there briefly in that small in between too small for the both of us but you knew that all along.
Continue reading...
92
For them to write a haiku,
for us is to define two variables in a curved relationship. 
If our form of encoding
sound wasn't  as it already is:
we wouldn't have statistics -
say X and β
f(-) and ε the succinct -
hard to orientate
units of encoding 
as complete meaning Majestic.
0
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 9:52 AM UTC
Secret of the Nottingham Duck
we plot to **** the king of nottingham let's go to the poison well to quench the lion's thirst
0
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 10:08 PM UTC
To Quench The Lion's Thirst