They've wrecked the illusion that's towns are bastillions made to last instead they are monopoly money spinners where building booms become bust and rents dry up
They've wrangled the economy now they go for the soul Queens' gardens future design is allusive as the scarlet pimpernel
I remember bee hives next to the tax office now its a busy builders yard so with investment goes ecological *******
The omens are ominous maybe the Tories can do better
The boy has caught me early spring by the fireside we sojourn Ain't got no hired limousine no imagination for the road The boy caught me singing harmoniously undercover Handsome brown eyes will reappraise me yet Like a fiery fire I'm going down big easily. Got love to share and an abundance of hope Come and see me like a bird in my tree at my place
Beneath dying birches, wild children play, leaves fall through defiant sadness. Empty mills observed. Farmers sing and stags enter. The ambivalent fire by the campsite, blurred dervishes dance from a black wall. Scarlet's laughter's a merry-go-round
Hello this is my poem the one I sneaked on my mobile whilst inspired by a journey to work There was this impressive man who exceeded the apex of my dreams but I could never slay the sartorial dragon for him my poetical vocabulary was too low brow These arent my bouts of normal surrender Yet there's never enough understanding shown by my fairweather peers
I am early morning you are the aurora together we easel a wondrous sight. I am the evening you are the dusk, cossetting each other in our urbane delight.
Dragonfly days are wishful bucolic times. There are blue clouds to match their wingspan and cider with Ruby on merry go rounds, promises of love and heirlooms set aside
Soaked with lies the arcaduim sighs, listen to the falling leaves. Ghosts will chase you, winged creatures will crawl (moving mountains with toil), and you will find no relief.
The glossy dancers swarm vibrating against green theatre curtains, visceral feelings heavy heels worn. They dance for purity only second guessing heaven.
Tough Bakelite body A DSLR without the pixels only lacking a LCD screen Advanced autofocus update from F90 choice of 3 alternate exposure meters DX coded iso from 60 to 2500 speed range 30 seconds to 1/8000 seconds 1992 to 2001
We were political friends a generous X at the box But something terrible has happened Public sector cuts Councils allowed to financially run dry Welcome to Brick by Brick Croydon
The general circumnavigation of Democracy You've got a stone heart and at the drop of a hat You demonize your enemies
We've got a Mayor with a presiding vote NOC a stalemate assured Give us back our Libraries and Purley Swimming pool
The palliative cure is the Lib Dems We are sick of the two-party system Normalcy at a mid-runner's pace why can't we be like Sutton and Richmond the prequistive in ascension
We the underscored have come for our just desserts meekly receiving our own rewards It may not be pleasurable what we receive but with cuticled nails and smarted suit, let us wait profusely for our undulations. Our daily bread this feeble feed.
Bronzed sun over the hill Fieldfare flying South The cartwheels stasis speaks to us even now as light steals itself over into the steps into the sea How could we not have noticed this before?
I'm the cat that gets the creme i may look lost and disposed until you feed me. If you have your own cats, despite giving me a name. I upsurp them, half knowing i've done wrong. I will leave and be feed by a doting spinster, just for effect.
Who cares if Bolan misparked his Jeepster or Bowie had his Norfolk Broads moment Give me sophisticated mid 70s tin pan alley rather than Glam Overnight Sensation by the Raspberries or January by Pilot From Glee to a top Three in one easy swoop
Beach head, light top, regional Frisco veteran full powered chick. Youve outpaced the bikers irradiated your enemies, and smoked from their peace pipe.
I was in the audience when someone shouted Judas to Dylan for going electric. I was near Paul Simon effected by the airs of dreary northern towns. I was the ****** you smoked on bequest of some forgotten Zanadu. I wrote the songs you merely had to hum them.
To nurture a summit way passing the stars wouldn't it be heaven I see no reason why not But alpha centurai is a reckless place. it offers no garlands only fables pulled as if from a paper bag
From the windowsill lets feast on pea shoots and chives marvel at the paperwhites, tall and slender with a magnificent perfume and grow nepeta for our cat?
Why don't we call our flat Jardin? so we may be associated with nature?
Let our first holiday be to Giverney? the ardor will unfold your artistic eyes! I could talk of hollyhocks for ages They are like relationships the firmament lasts forever of tendering
A silver lining passed by the rainbow. The sun is still shinning, for my state of mind, needs no defining, notwithstanding yesterday was painted grey. I just told a fairy story of a redemptive gull. Till tomorrow we celebrate, our February song chasing its tail.
Quebec as plighted as a star your unclaimed luggage is nearby in nearly new corrugated blocks, brimming by the wayside. Playing hide and seek with stolen identity cards making sure the hinterlands wont find you
Spirits nestled in castled ruins. Frangipani caught in the rain. Poppy dogs with sheepish eyes Happy as pie Larry in Lincolnshire fayres. Dragons Tooth flowering late. Ordinariness dressed in leitmotifs starts to fade
Don't know where to hide the bodies, or where that wild smile came from. But I've got a bad feeling, the longer this goes on spots on the Sun will appear as with gaps on the wall If there isn't a body then there's no crime to support several lives coming home.
Abundant double-crested hollyhocks preside White hebes, usually pink glance, pruning rose hips from the vine and prolonging their goodness. Going to get a new fence because of Storm Eunice damage Aching black roots of Elephant ears are cut down. Green Sherwood paint for picket fence, Take cuttings from lavatia to flourish further anew
Digital falls too easily She took better in Slide than JPEG and even though the Slide was pushed it had a retro Fuji green hue than the dull colors of the obvious shots per second of the DSLR
it's nice to walk down Victoria Street It still feels like an undiscovered part of London It has a Waterstones bookshop and an earnest small Waitrose Yet the Public Library is elsewhere There's clearly an Architects eye for design here belatedly re-discovering glass to compete with the nearby Shard Around Strutton ground there used to be a watchmaker next, it will be the shoe shop and then book sellers Oxfam to vacate their properties
Christmas decorations in the dark, same day motifs inspired by you, hopes undeterred on fetching wind, silver baubles bobbing on the bay. Dormant dreams forlorn in Winterland, yours is the world begin with it.
They give us pennies for the years we have spent Everybody says they care Yet cant wish away their tears It was not hard to clamber Speed the unconsecrated times Seen so many chances fall from clumsy hands Glad to leave my youth The river of us runs dry
she bangs on about the changing political landscape, that she was a veteran of the Ohio State shootings although only time could crack the shell, split the kernel we both know as truth.
Pale riders ride upon the crest of a wave, favoring chance that happenstances along the way. Screeching wheels of endeavor proclaims the day. They pronounce on a hum the daily turn of the day.
She climbed the waterline upward and appearing just for the occasion, day after day kidding herself when it doesn't matter anymore be careful of the stitches on attention to let go of the relentlessness awry of the persuaders
PM rescued by Civil Police with a parliamentary redacted procedural withdrawal questionable Ukrainian WAR WAR diplomacy cost of living Inflation by stealth
White foam temperamental tommorows One more jour Seagulls cross paths The warp of sometimes and the broken rhythm of shingles till the dusk answers itself
Gone are the days we spoke truth by the river bank. All your promises were never meant, and I lament your sudden change oh you siren; a wind of remiss.
May is the blue print month where the garden fast forwards, in its boisterous growth The shrubs are the season's tidings with deciduous azleas and blushing rhododendoms, but beware of the summer ennui
February can have sunshine as autumn or face the freezing rain. Its soldier plants hardy preside. Crocuses unharmed standing knee high in water, or Irises thrusting their indomitable flowers through the snow, and our sageful Snowdrops taking on everything that comes.
My name is Michael O'Brien. I live in the woods, with squirrels for my only company. I've got no need for anyone, im a crusader for loneliness although im not the only one. There's Peter ORaugherty, who lives in a cave with rabid bats only for company.