The Ballads of Hoskins Hall.

28 Feb

Charlie’s Diary. My favourite thing about waking up was the snooze button. Even if the respite seemed five seconds rather than minutes, I held the power to postpone awareness. As a lover of t…

Source: The Ballads of Hoskins Hall.

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Room Full Of Blue

10 Jun

I STILL HEAR YOUR VOICE IN THIS SILENCE THAT REIGNS,

I STILL FEEL THAT SHIVER AS YOU WHISPER MY NAME,

I STILL SEE YOUR EYES EACH EMOTION A GEM,

SHINING AS BRIGHTLY AS THEY SPARKLED THEN,

I STILL SMILE AT YOUR SMILE AS YOU LAY DOWN TO SLEEP,

I STILL DREAM THE DREAMS THAT WE TRULY BELIEVED,

AND I STILL WISH THAT I WAS HOLDING YOU,

NOT SLEEPING ALONE IN THIS ROOM FULL OF BLUE.

Aside

          …

12 Jun

                                         Stranded In The Monsoon……….

I’m waiting for the weather improve so that I can make the mad dash home. Perhaps if they were to lift the hose pipe ban for just one day it would stop raining. A pleasant trip to collect the MGF that I should never have bid on, is now into it’s second day.I wisely decided to take a pit stop and stayed at my sisters who was actually pleased to see me. Tonight when the flooded roads are quiet I shall sail it home……. well it was bought as a summer toy. While I’m waiting and have access to my sisters computer I WILL finish a post I started a few months ago I have so many unfinished to choose from  I’ll just close my eyes and ………………

                                        Bricks Blood & Windows…December 2011.

A late night or early morning walk home can be tedious at the best of times. I can understand the need to plot, plan, scheme and dream….anything to occupy your mind as you stroll along. There are some who take the plot, plan, dream thing to a completely different level.

Now take young Bonzo, he is over a mile into his trek home and still pissed.It has just started to rain but all he can think about is climbing the fascist fence and exploring a building site.Bonzo steals the bricks that will make the remaining three miles of his walk home so much easier. He had always been a lover of bricks, and now thanks to that twat taxi driver who wanted money up front he owned three of them.

Maybe it was the way the moon reflected on the rain soaked paintwork that attracted him like a moth to the BMW. He imagined that smug faced bar maid who had spurned his advances sitting behind the wheel.  It was worth one of his precious bricks to hear the boom as the sunroof imploded. The alarm stole the chance of further satisfaction and the windscreen escaped. He wasted another of his bricks hurling it fruitlessly at who ever cowered behind the twitching curtains. Screaming his war cry of “WANKERS” he bravely went to ground, finding sanctuary in a deserted park.

A trail of blood,lost from sunroof splintered hands led detectives to Bonzo’s final hiding place. His face mutated by an expression of shock and horror, they puzzled over the brick sticking out from where the sun never shines. Well that’s what should have happened but sadly it didn’t. Bonzo spent his last brick, smashing the tail gate window of MY MOTOR !…..the bastard !……….

As I said some people take the plot,plan,dream thing to a completely different level. The brick rape was pure fantasy,Bonzo’s demise wishful thinking,editing mistakes unintentional, broken windows….true.

I still didn’t finish it but I’m posting it anyway =)

 

Long lost Note Pad = Long Forgotten Lyrics.

27 Apr

Strange Thing.

 

Her suspicions stem from experience,

you can lose a fortune in a penny arcade,

she’s been burnt her pride is bruised,

never the bride not even a brides maid,

dreams of a desert where nomadic young men,

walk with a courage only faith can bestow,

beneath  the stars to her secret oasis,

bearing the feelings she refuses to show,

stranger things have happened,

she’s throwing it all away,

until she sees the sign  she’ll see no reason,

she’ll count the years and the days by the lines on her face.

Dark  and sullen tall black and handsome,

Sly sold his soul in ambitious haste,

all he requires now is total solitude,

he’ll live for ever he’s got life times to waste,

hitched a ride on a bike with a bride in the side car,

running from the vows made just today,

pointed out that without no driver she’d get nowhere fast,

saddled up they drank the cup and rode away,

stranger things don’t happen,

they’ve thrown it all away,

until they’ve seen a sign,

they’ll see no reason,

they’ll count the years and the days,

by the lines on their faces.

FrozenRoom1991.

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26 Jan

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