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"noughties" poems
This is for those sky high low and ***** media grads of the fate-late noughties, grasping, pathetically, as dreams slip like their youth of yesteryear. Unpaid, over-laid, saturated with the cum-comedy of their university days. Then comes the choke and cloak of the next interview, interview, interview, the view into the next room is so beautiful and dazzling after that last **** so beautiful and dazzling after the next **** so beautiful and dazzling, please, I swear I'll just have one more **** Ceremonial drug use, a testimonial abuse of government aid, paid to those by the Hair Blair bunch of chumps who screamed the promise of higher education for the lot, a degree for every adult, an unpaid job for every graduate. The clouded confidence stutter of the high as a helicopter, once potential author, lost in the part-time smog of inner city university town down-and-outers. Left adrift with no financial spine, left to pine the disillusionment they now know they felt way before they knew what they've come to do, and be, and exist as forever.
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Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 8:03 AM UTC
This is for those (Part 2)
I, this child of the late 50's never thought he would make it all the way to this the Noughties. Time dresses in the days of 2015. These days are not flattering. My body handcuffed to time struggles into July to be confronted with yet another ** hum...birthday. I'm Time's hostage. Time's foot! Time looks at my body. It's not exactly. . . wearing very well now ...is it? And yes it's true my body is distressed, frayed and worn at the edges. "You must meet my old friend Death..." Time smiles. "But, not yet...not yet! Time smirks. The handcuffs bite into my flesh. The red welts break...bleed. A little touch of Stolkholm Syndrome. Me thinks! Even though I still seek to escape. "Ok...Ok!" I say "Let's go greet...the 15th!" "Happy Birthday!" my friends yell. "Go to Hell!" I mumble underneath my breath. "Ahhh...yes...eh...thanks!" I lie. Blow my candles out one by ...one. . ! I sing Tom Waits to my self. The icing melts
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Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
TIME'S HOSTAGE
The reality is hitting home, music is changing all the time. Music is being recorded and purchased through the miracle of the wide web. This is not a new phenomenon you can learn and listen to something new every day. On one hand you can make some great beats even recording on your mobile phone. You can buy any instrument you want to purchase through websites pay any time and any where you like It will be posted to your home. No hassel, no queues; the small price and shame is when you hear wonderful music places are never the same! In the early noughties music shop's was the place to be hook up for a day sample and play vinyl and records, listen to new beats play and buy an new instrument, word of mouth about new bands,   connect for hours with other music fans about what you enjoy and what you like to hear play on the airwaves. It's different nowadays we can promote at the comfort of home, connect through laptop and phone screen. Create band page's, blogs, post online reviews. Share video's to broadcast the sounds, and ideas to upcoming stages. Hell yeah music will always be here, there is no fear, when there is local gigs, music clubs and open mics, playing the music all year taking you to new thrills, higher heights, keep that magic alive, support your local music scene.
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Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 11:19 AM UTC
Local Music Scene