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Christian Ek Jul 2014
The band starts playing at a ***** and crowded backyard.
Rebellious youth gather to cast their vote with the stomping of their doc martin boots.
Beer cans everywhere, everyone's trying to let loose the raw stranglehold their society has produced.
The guitars go off and the ritual begins.
First they assemble in the heart of the pit.
In the center individual tragedies bring fourth the wrath of a God's army.
Anarchy you call it, Ha! I call it reassurance, reassurance that this anger is surely communal.

I never saw it more clearer, the youth's power to resist: If the government wont hear us, we will create our own sound even under the batons of fascism, we spit on your rule, your control of our art.

We wont bow down to a law with our names written all over it, while another politician walks free from corruption.
While another officer guns down an un armed child and calls it self-defense.
While suspicious mass shootings continue to occur and mass cameras grow in recording.
While you send more people off to war for another countries resources.
These thoughts explode out of me into shoves, screams, ****** cuts, reckless behavior, and then finally release. Pure psychiatric release.
Northern Poet Oct 2017
Why am I so obsessed
With checking my notifications
If no one texts me
It feels like suffocation
That little red dot
Next to my application
It ***** me off
When it won’t work down at the station
I've got a mate who's into spontaneous flirtation
He met a bird on this app
I think she's Croatian
They went on two dates
And then went on vacation
Meanwhile I'm sat at home
Watching babe station
I fell in love once
Then realised it was infatuation  
She said I had no drive
But she had no imagination
When we go out
Theres no conversation
Even Siri
Gives me ******* quotations
My new phone
Is the new sensation
Checking Facebook
My only temptation
I check my phone
Just to know my location
**** it
I’ve had it...
With this nation
Look at all these wannabe gangsters
Terrorising our streets
That one's wearing camouflage trousers
Just wait till you hear him speak
'Dems bear skills mate'
'Can you lend me fifty bar?'
He sounds like he's from Los Angeles
Doing time in the yard
But he's not
He still lives at home with his mum
And his pregnant girlfriend
And he's under the thumb
You see them outside Tesco
But they're not shopping for pesto
Let's go
They've seen the old bill
He's known around this town
For selling dodgy pills
Guns, knives and slang
That's what you need
If you wanna be in their gang
No education
Just a stolen Playstation
And don't forget the ****
Even on a school night
They're out doing speed
You'll see 'em in the park
With a bottle of cider
Then they'll start
On a poor old-timer
Tracky bottoms
And a Burberry hat
Chav fashion
Cause they think they're all that
But the funny thing is
They don't have a clue
They don't think like
Me or you
They think that they're rap stars
Dreaming of fast cars
But they're just wankers
More like 'wannabe gangsters'
JB Jul 2018
you did not smash a guitar to
splinterings: That Night,
there weren’t enough iiiiii


six cigarettes later,
all packed,
tossed back, meandered off...
a long pause...


I too patiently waited out the fight
I too patiently weighed out the fight
I too patiently way out did the fight

weighted, I, too,
way out,

Marla May 9
Speeding away from gravitational orbit
The moon ablaze as gazes glare from the cockpit
A jacket of jet leather with patches abound
The Dead Kennedys and Franz Ferdinand
Keeping political war on Earth's ground
Flying away into the plains of space
As the plane of time gives hearty chase
Hollow youth filled with snippets of old age
As their battlecry channels an inner rage
Death to all earthly matters that muddle our future
The neon glow hums as the last remnant of a culture
So make way for this warrior who shall bring us all closure
Rebelling like a banshee set ablaze over Orion's shoulder
Ensuring the enemy's final haze destroys their dying composure
Northern Poet Oct 2017
She broke his heart
It needed stitches
Then he said
All women are witches

She let him down
You’re not to blame
I’m leaving this town
It’s not the same
We had love
But it went away
What could have been
Wasn’t meant to stay

He can’t sleep
And his body itches
Then he said
All women are witches

One bad experience
Cut him deep in side
Deeper and deeper
With a rusty old knife
What was once love
Wasn’t meant to be
You’ll get over her
And those memories

The mind weeps
While the body twitches
Then he said
All women are witches

He took the wrong path
And he walked the line
She took him for granted
While he bought her wine
She lied to his face
Time after time
An utter disgrace
He’s now doing just fine
It's never easy
But you've got to let go
Enough is enough
I’m tired of this show
Now he's free as a bird
And back on track
He’s ****** her off
And got his life back

Now she’s gone
He removed the stitches
And no longer thinks
All women are witches
Northern Poet Oct 2017
When you're with someone
That you don't love
What will you do
When push comes to shove

Do you sit there in silence
In these self-hurt times of violence
Or do you cut the rope
And lose all hope
'Until death do us part'
Or will you go back to the start

Do you lie and cheat
Until you start to spy
And then you can't eat
You can't even sleep
And you never felt so cheap
And *****
It was only
A bit of flirting

What started out as lust
Is now all about trust
When the happiness fades away
It all turns to dust
Northern Poet Oct 2017
I feel empty
Empty inside
I want to run away
But there’s nowhere to hide
**** it
I’ll just get in a boat
And go for a ride
Set the sails
And go with the tide
I’ll go with the wind
Wherever it blows
All I need is a drink
And something to smoke

I’ll escape to an island
To a place in the sun
With no one else
Just me and my gun
That’s all I need
To be out in the sticks
Peace and quiet
And somewhere to think
It’s not the end
Just the start
Only me
And my broken heart

We’ll just sit there
And talk things through
Look back at the times
Of just me and you
When I’m down
I just look around
I see the trees
And some clouds
Grey skies around me now
I close my eyes
And look at the floor
Flick the switch
And feel no more
Northern Poet Oct 2017
We're not all gonna live forever
Not matter how big
Or how ******* clever
Though it would be nice
To think twice
About how we're gonna spend
The afterlife
But in reality
We live and we die
We laugh and we cry
We love and we lie
We look fate
Right in the ******* eye
And when it's time
Life passes us by
And we end up in a box
Staring up at the sky
Northern Poet Feb 14
Up north there's this thing called queuing
Down south it looks more like ******* looting
I can see the trouble brewing
Squeezing on the tube – can't even get my ******* shoe in
Some of these miserable ******* look like they need shooting
Stuck on the northern line back to Tooting
Nigdaw Jun 29
It had an unbridled joy
Screaming guitars, weeping
As the current flowed through
Pickups, feedback and tremolo
Arm distortion, a cacophony of
Chords, played by would be
Rock stars, accompanied by
Thundering drums and a base
Turned up to number eleven,

It wasn't about the music, it
Was about the noise, the energy
Generated by hundreds of sweaty
Bodies out for blood, out with
The boys, nothing pleasant here
An outpouring of emotion, beyond
The pale, it exists in us all, but
Only some could tap the source, for
A chance to be a three minute hero.

Commercialisation won in the end
Bringing the ugly monster to its
Knees begging for fortune, craving
More fame, as soon as the track was
Recorded punk died on a mixing desk,
Some kept a little kudos, pretending
Not to play the game, some died trying
To be an eternal flame, some are there
Still, banging out the good old days.
Nigdaw Jul 13
I bought some Dr. Martens
a leather jacket to go with
T-shirts, logo'd
Nirvana, *** Pistols, Incubus

but what I wanted to buy
was the swagger
the intense feeling
of not giving a ****
I'm going to live forever
and there's nothing you can do
about it
with attitude
spitting in the street

I used to watch The ******

I was there as the Police
went in ******* horseback

but the only attitude I found
was the young kid serving
looking me up and down


midlife crisis
you fat, balding
grey haired old ***.
Northern Poet Oct 2017
I know the feeling
I feel the pain
Look outside
******* pouring rain

The days are dull
And all the same
So ******* boring
So mundane

The only excitement
Is two days of rest
When you’re alone
You get it off your chest

You go to the ******
And drown your sorrows
And ******* pray
It’s not Monday tomorrow

We fought for freedom
Now we’re under the thumb
Pay your ******* taxes
And work till your numb

But don’t you worry
You’ll get your time
Just work for 70 years
And you’ll be just fine
Marla May 6
Go to work,
Clock in,
Renée Sep 2018
The first time we met was at the park.
There wasn’t a spark.
Instead you made me laugh.
Since that day we love to chaff.
I try to think of you as only a friend.
My emotions I try to bend.
I’ve written a lot about this.
I continue to persist.
Instead I’m deciding to cease.
I just need the peace.
But I hope you know.
I’ll always look at you and think, whoa.
I will always care about you.
And the things you do.
I’ve never really felt like this.
It makes me think about your kiss.
Isn’t it amazing how someone can fascinate us.
They can get total control of our trust.
But what is it about him for me.
Is it his personality?
Or that he stands too close to me?
I’ve never met anyone like him.
He doesn’t even like to swim.
But that’s ok he is perfect to me.
And I won’t ever let him see.
What he really means to me.
A Simillacrum Jun 14
It's not enough to be sharp, is it?
I launch my heart
at the walls of the crumbling world,
a thought in it, but,
your heart is despondent, isn't it?

Move your mouth you failing ****.
You glued the glass to the wall, as well,
so you can't stop, can you?

Sell it as it is. Nothing makes sense.
Seeming like a thing you've seen
once or twice before in your life?
Renée Sep 2018
Have you ever met someone who makes you question everything?
When you think you have it all figured out.
They come and say everything you’ve ever wanted.
Well I have.
There isn’t one thing about you I don’t like.
Your imperfections are perfections to me. Every word you speak I listen to.
I don’t forget any of it.
Because that time is priceless to me.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
My heart beats out of my chest when you are around.
I find myself laughing a lot around you.
I love the way you dress.
I love how you stand.
I love how you talk.
Am I crazy or is this apart of a plan.
Maybe it’s just me.
And everyone thinks your amazing.
But there’s something about you that’s extra special to me.
I wish I would have met you along time ago.
And I can’t say it to your face so I say it here.
You are so amazing to me.
I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.
I wish you could read my thoughts.
So I don’t have to keep it all bottled up.
But I have to.
Downtown Long Beach....Fender's ballroom...what a bash...every weekend burn and crash.  Angry Samoans, The Germs, Ramones, Descendants, FEAR, UK Subs, Exploited, the ****** Vandals, DRI, Dead Kennedys....the Circle Jerks....I saw all these bands and many many more before i was 16.  Sporting a white mohawk or black liberty pulls pushing pulling shoving slamming....those were the days.
laura Jun 2018
nightgown floors
pulses in knots
spread your pink punk drama
like the blossoms on the streets
china town
red lights
i bite off more than i can take
Northern Poet Sep 14
My timeline is filled
With self indulgent selfies
Searching for gratification
And self satisfaction
Need to get an instant reaction
Some social media traction
There's no time for distraction
From this digital attraction
You can't get enough
Of the interaction
1,000 poses in your camera roll
Narcissists are taking control

It doesn't matter
What the time
Come wind, rain
Snow or shine
Just make sure
You look devine
Lick your lips
You're looking fine
Flip the camera
And strike a pose
Making sure
Everybody knows
Here's your next
Digital daily dose
Does it really matter
Which ******* filter you chose?
I feel like I've lost my soul
Narcissists are taking control

The bathroom
Is the perfect spot
Take your picture
Before you Photoshop
Bunny ears
And a rainbow smile
Frogs legs
And a crocodile
Snapping away
Well all the while
You could have been
Down the Curry Mile
Instead you're out there
On your own
Sat at home
On your ******* phone
Sharing pictures
With people you don't know
You'll end up on the ******* dole
Narcissists are taking control

1,000 poses in your camera roll
Mirror selfies
And online trolls
Constantly searching
To find your soul
There's no way out
Of this black hole
Just one more post
On your way home
Narcissists are taking control
Even through this screen
she manages to strike me
Her side glances and careful words
Delighting my fantasy
While saying my name again
Inviting me with the wisps
of her pixelated hands

As if tracing lines in sand
Would bring me closer
I long to compose the words to create
That shy glance on your face
I'm always receiving through the glass
The truth is you could say anything new
And I'd still be the same old mess

Fighting to control my beating heart
and lack of breath
Because I have panic attacks
And I miss you just the same
And I play dumb when you won't say it
I act surprised because
I can't compensate it
Constantly in denial when I contemplate for too long

So instead I'll sing you a song
I'll keep it short and sweet
Rather than taking so long
Because darlin', you could
Say anything
Say anything
And I'd be happy again

Because sometimes I lose sleep
While I'm too busy listening on repeat
To the music that's always reminding me
Of the night she closed her eyes
And rested her feet on my thighs
While the rest of the world was dead
We were lying together in her hospital bed

I'm fighting to control my beating heart and lack of breath
Because I have panic attacks
And I miss you just the same
But I play dumb when you can't say it
I might act surprised because I can't compensate it
I'm constantly in denial when I...
Contemplate for far too long

So instead I'll sing you a song
I'll keep it short and sweet
Rather than have it lasting just too long
Because darlin', you could
Say anything
Say anything
And I'd be happy again

So I'll sing you this song

I'll keep it short and sweet
Rather than taking so long
Because darlin', you could
Say anything
Say anything
And I'd be happy again
I wrote this one a while back in May 2018 but never posted it and it was found through scrolling back on memories of conversations long past. Definitely influenced by Good Charlotte though. I don't write music much but this would be a pop punk song should I ever put music to it
Making the most of my day
Riding back and fourth from station's
139 poems wrote
But the route never changes
Blasting pop punk anthems to get me by
Instead of dwelling in my room furthering connection with the outside
On mission with no destination
To find the people or place that feels like home
A community found when the lights go down and the band  starts to play
My 140th poem wrote on the same bus heading the opposite way
Slightly less lost
Tatiana Aug 2018
The drums' pounding sounds
echo deep in my chest
rattling my rib cage
a new heart beat is found.
I surge with the crowd
dealing with the push and pull
like it was the ocean.
Well we were on Ocean Avenue
So it sort of was.
People are being held above the surging waters
like boats floating on treacherous seas.
One boat emerges from the depths behind me
One that I did not see.
The next thing I knew
the head of the boat had hit me
connecting with the back of my head.
I turned around quickly
and pushed the boat along,
but by then the damage was already done.
I sang and danced to every song
Unaware until later of my new concussion.
I'm putting my "Forgotten Vow(el)s" series on hold as I am now concussed. I was at a punk rock concert, seeing bands such as Against Me and the Bouncing Souls. A girl was lifted up behind me, and started to fall onto me, hitting the back of my head with her head and that did it. This is my second concussion and I'm very annoyed to have gotten another one. So if you are going to punk rock shows, be aware of the risks mates. But also, go to punk rock shows because they are a blast.
Also I'm realizing now I could have said surfers instead of boats (bc crowd surfers lol), have I mentioned I'm concussed?
Also please excuse any obvious mistakes for obvious reasons.
SJG Sep 26
Sharing business class with the Yuppies and the Sunnis.
At 34,000 feet, the ice in my Pepsi melts
And I almost feel like somebody's ideal.

In 1984, I wrote a song and it stopped the war.

Punk song 1990, everybody's gonna get together,
Work out what's going on and make change happen and stuff.

There's a limit to what humans can do.

Self-publishing in the interim. Writing to protect the fauna.
Waiting for my poems to reach the doomsdayer on your street corner,
And for the word of love to fly out.

God's in the sky.  Jesus is with the fishes.
The devil has the big leather chair,
Where he does as he wishes,
And we're stuck on Earth for now.

Punk song 1990, we've got to do something,
Let's make a zine!

Oh here it comes
Oh here it comes
The big one waiting on you

Oh here it comes
Oh here it comes
The **** humans do

Punk song 1990, no bot, cyborg, psy op algorithm
Is ever gonna get me down.

Punk song 1990, it's very useful,
Perhaps the real Gulf War was the one in our hearts all along?

Doing yoga with my co-worker's girlfriend,
She tells me that love is all she needs.

We have many conversations
About the space the world is in,
And how the surrounding realm does everything but die.

It's time to wake up. It's time to rise up.
It's time to bite our chasing tails.

Punk song 1990, it's so amazing,
The grace of the downtrodden
And the glow of the jungle blazing,
And the previous century of contemporary art
Hung along some oligarch's bathroom.

The world is ****. The world is iconic.
The world has been a grave for us all.

It's time to stand up. What's that?
A Molotov? I was laying beats.

Oh here it comes
Oh here it comes
Another rotten tooth

Oh here it comes
Oh here it comes
The best person you ever knew

Punk song 1990, show power what it's missing.
Show them suits how good we are at kissing,
All the way down here.
A Simillacrum Mar 30
Board sign. Black paint.
Wind over the barren waste.
Dust storm. Gut wound.
Three, two, one, toward my doom.

Population 41.
When it's over and done, done,
I have another number
I've assigned to Him,
and by my ******* blood,
He's going to get His.

Population 41.
Does this shanty even have a doctor?
High five the sign as I pass it,
with a ****** palm print.

Welcome, 42.
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