other people's thoughts...
Urban Art
Architecture is an art form,
Buildings all around us,
Houses and shops and hospitals,
And some buildings don't seem to have a purpose,
They're just there,
Sprawled across the land.
Each one different,
But sharing something:
They're where we go to work,
To school,
To play,
So common they lose their mystique,
But if you stop to look,
Just for a minute,
You might like what you see.
Urban art is everywhere,
Shapes and shades and images.
I think people would find a lot more,
If they didn't look so hard.
By Graham Clancy
Acid
What strange weird madness is this?
Laughing, shouting and barking,
At least I think I was barking
I may have day-dreamed it,
Sixteen dollars can make you crazy-mad,
For a few hours that is.
Tripping and slipping and sliding away,
To a different world;
Not necessarily better,
But definately different.
Where you can touch music,
And taste colour,
And do a great many indescribable things.
Ones nonsesical sensibilities are erased.
I'm On The Road to a Brave New World,
And I may have lost my way?
By Graham Clancy
Fade Away
Spiritual girls, angels,
godesses and princesses,
whisper passion to me.
I sleep soundly, gently,
and my eyes move rapidly.
In the screen of my mind,
they gather around me.
Dancing joyously, humming,
smiling, they wink at me.
I smell their freshness,
perfumed scent of beauty.
I spend hours, floating,
entwining and embracing them.
Lovingly and passionately we touch,
stroke each others skin, soft and pure.
Our lips kiss like histories sweethearts,
and my memory fills up with glee.
Short hair, long and flowing,
their eyes tease me to open my heart.
Spiritual girls and delicate angels,
stunning godesses with power,
and beautiful princesses.
During my night I feel them,
I revel in the freedom they give me,
and my tears flow when they fade away.
By Lee J Stone
Where do you want to go today?
Your clothes are on my floor
The bed's unmade.
I need to shave.
Ricki Lake wasn't so good today.
I'd do something if I thought I knew what.
If I thought it would make any difference.
Sometimes I think that the people on tv care about me.
I'm sold before the ad has even started.
I wake up on my lounge because I forget to go to bed.
The cat's on my pillow anyway.
My eyes are dry, my lungs are weak.
I'd be burnt out if I were doing anything.
I do not want this.
I don't want to live this way.
I don't want to miss you.
And I don't want to do anything about it, either.
By Brenton Bell
Time
Time magazine at the forefront
of ground breaking news.
I read
last week, love
only lasts 18 months.
I wonder if this meant
Juliet would be filing for divorce soon
At least it explains a few things.
Remember how low our score was on that compatibility test?
We should do the smart thing
and slow down before
it's too late
The crowds have begun to gather
besides Wordsworth's grave, and their shouts
can be heard for miles
'No wonder they never found Lucy Grey;
everyone lost interest.'
I can't help feeling cheated myself,
But I condemn the riots
I used to date a girl who smelt
like vanilla, but she used to melt
just like chocolate
She said she was forever
but that's how they advertise vegimite
at least it doesn't make it
seem so bad
when you say our love
is as pure
as the sky
after a nuclear war.
By Ben Sorgiovanni
You
open eyed
spiral timed
clock mind.
voices like an echo
noise like
noisiness.
we slip
across puddles of space;
pause.....
drip listless back into the moment
crippled like a spent bee,
divide our lives
into suit-time and television-time,
intermittent bus-time.
terrified of commas,
you
me
you
i
wait
for
this.....
codeine-enhanced vision of
painted-grey-men-at-bus-stops to blur past.
and rain washes
this.....
away
By Catalina
I saw it once - a summer abstraction - a
metaphysical twin - patient - far off over the tar -
vast between thumb and forefinger - days like
these get so hot that it's almost winter and you're
not in possession of your earth anymore - time after
time - a visitation - the air thicker - the throat hot -
a conduit for a dry wind - a strain under the heavens
like a million backpacks - the skys sweat bursting
ready to drench - but it is patient - not for us.
Mr Jamie Hutchings
Thank you to everybody who has let me put their poems up.
They're all great!
There will be more coming soon.
If you would like to join the carousel
send me some of your stuff and I'll take a look at it.
or ICQ message me at;
42721387.
please don't steal any of these, stealing art is the biggest sin of all.