2 replies to this topic

[Ro]

I've been feeling  bad about not going on this forum - it was my idea and I'm  supposed to be a moderator but life doesn't always work out the way it says on the tin and I've not been there.  So I have a look and find you're getting on pretty damn well without me, which is just great.  Better than great. 
So a reminder.  The Three Cities organisation is putting together an anthology - can your stuff be used on it?  I can see certain bits that might be nice as well as stuff that's just too rude for them.  I thought about asking you to repost sanitised versions but that would be horrible and against nature so I dropped that idea quick. 

I am also posting a poem written by twelve people in a cave a couple of weeks ago.  Each four line verse has the same rhyme scheme and each verse is about a different person in a different time living in a cave in Nottingham.  How about some more verses?  After all, apart from the Market Square, what else has Nottingham got that's unique?  Ok, two challanges there.  A verse and a unique thing about Nottingham  that doesn't involve guns, Robin Hood, or a tram called Byron. 
By the way not to go on about the Xylophone man but how come we have a tram named after a bare knuckle boxer, a syphallitic sodomising poet, an alchoholic football manager and a radio presenter and they still think the Xylophone man's not suitable?
Here's that poem.


Salutations –
voices from the caves

Comforts and Jesters set aside
in blind panic, 1939
royalty even, out to hide
in caves of splendour with velvet and wine.

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

Down in the caves the chemist is thrilled
Despite the fact that his family are doomed
never mind the numerous relatives killed
during the war, business has boomed.

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

Before dystopia death was my game
now scarlet running through clenching hands
scratching stone breaking away
Plato’s cave to new birth in amber lands

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.


He looks down and sighs
at the poor couple sleeping
amongst syringes and knives,
so he walks away weeping

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

John Taner’s the name, 21 years of age
The castle is burning out  there’s much amiss,
I’ll keep tanning leather, in this filthy old cave
playing with dead skin, smelling of piss. 

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

Robert’s piglet head exploded into flames
and in a second it was a sweating brown pork chop
Diana’s naked body melted into the floor
Bob wondered who had guessed he was only sixteen
or that he’d never taken acid before.

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

Cromwell is a bloody bastard
he locked me in this dark and scary place
he stole the family food, harvested
glad a smashed my bible into his god fearing face.

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

Hooves pound overhead like artificial thunder
hysteria grips your ageing frame
as they dash towards their fatal blunder
you wish you had your faith again.

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

The cave dweller wants to be a spy
she hides from workers scoring their pounds
she knows she has to really try
but she can’t stop making tropical sounds.

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

All above me is a poison hell
All between me a paralysed rage
all of me a simple useless man
and all around me a cavernous cage.

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

Fetally curled on the soot-covered floor
A tram-driver woke from the strangest of dreams
Of an artist he’d surely seen somewhere before
And his multiple paintings with swastika themes. 

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

I’m fifty five and crazy
sitting in a cave
the voices led me down here
to talk to my mate Dave.

[Denz]

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

Swithin's the name, I serve a knight,
Barracked in this cave, before the Crusades.
To free the Promised Land, our fight,
These swords will send our enemies to Hades.

Your eyes are bright in the darkened gloom
As you’re held by the earth
In its broken womb.

[Ro]

She'll do.  Cheers Denz methinks you have the style just  right.