Snakehips
Andy's friends started a band called the Waverley Wearers, and since he couldn't play an instrument and they needed a drummer, they let him play drums. But he couldn't keep the beat and soon they grew tired and replaced him with a snake-hipped washout who claimed he was almost somebody once, but this was probably not true. On their first gig without Andy, the Waverley Wearers and their new old drummer got spotted and signed and were on their way to world domination. Or so it felt to Andy. Really, they were stuck on a bottom scraping small town tour opening for a band you've never heard of, unless they have "the poor man
Skellington
No one knew where the skull had come from. It might have been in the drama store for years. It didn't really matter anyway, as, for the moment, no one was paying it any attention. They were too busy preparing for the school play. Jocelyn was running over the final script, crossing out the references to anal sex the year twelves hoped she wouldn't notice. It was a bad move to let them write it themselves, but the class was so enthusiastic. And it would have been fine if the head hadn't decided that they should perform it at the end of term for their parents. At first Jocelyn was thrilled, until she realised the amou
An extract from Giving Bear-th An Exploration into Recent Revelations Regarding the Migratory Habits of the Ursine Genus in Search of Parental Fulfilment
It is not yet common knowledge, but all bears are born in the same place. Its true. We found this out only recently. Somewhere out in the wilds of Alaska - nowhere youve heard of, nowhere you could get to easily, and nowhere youd want to, certainly not at the end of winter. Thats when they congregate. We used to think they hibernated the whole time
I like cake much more in theory than in practise.
I pepper my conversation with it but I never buy it.
I like cakes that have breadcrumbs up the side but that's it.
Maybe a gateau too.
But apart from that. I don't like icing or buttercream or jam.
And I hate marzipan. ESPECIALLY marzipan.
Marzipan's for the birds.
***
Take the last road to Reykjavik
We'll meet again in Reykjavik
On the streets of Reykjavik
We'll be together again
Where rooftops are tipped with ice
Where little kids wear hats and gloves
We'll walk on frozen lakes with care
Reykjavik - let's go there
I've never been to Reykjavik
I've never been with you
But m
When he died, he was asked to come up with a sentence that embodied his existance. All he came up with was
He went to the toilet and sat in the cubicle so he wouldn't fall asleep in the open-plan office.
The only German I know
is Ich Liebe Dich.
It gets me into a lot of trouble.
Ich Liebe Dich, liebling.
Ich bin ein Berliner.
Kiss me. Kiss me.
(That bit's international.)
And then he's still hanging around
But the moment's gone
and I'm gone too but
he's close behind
calling to me in words I don't understand,
clutching my hands and my face and other things too so I have to say
Nir ist publick!
As though it means anything to him.
Never give your heart so freely.
Why would I want his when I don't know what to do with my own?
Das ist nicht my boyfriend.
Das ist mein noyfriend.
People Are Awful
If Id known what was going to happen that day, I probably would have broken up with him by phone. Its not even my problem. Its Bens problem. He was late. Hes always late. Not so much now, but anyway. He was late, and he knew Id be angry. But I wasnt angry because I knew that all I was going to say to him was:
Its over, were finished, Im ending it, I never want to see you again, were breaking up, you disgust me, Im leaving, dont call me.
So it didnt bother me whether he was five minutes o
Daniel stood awkwardly in the gallery. He wasnt looking forward to this evening. In a sense, he had been waiting for it his whole life, but now that it had arrived, he felt ill. He had spent an exhausting afternoon installing his paintings, but now they seemed to wilt among the ultra-realistic, ornate landscapes or elaborate bowls of fruit exhibited by other artists. There were even uncanny facsimiles of homeless people, drawing attention to social issues. Daniels abstract slashes of paint seemed as complex as finger painting in comparison.
He had completed a circuit of the exhibition already, fe
We walked through darkened midnight streets past terraced houses frozen in a.m. bliss. It was neither cold not breezy; the first and so far only mild night of the year. We were the only living things, or so it felt. We walked on, and spoke of piffling things; love and fear and jokes only we understand and stories we think we heard
- - - - then draw to a simultaneous halt. There is a front window, there is a sheer gauzy curtain. There is a TV set. On it, we make out the image of a pneumatic blonde, dressed in pink, though not for long, as she peels off her bra to reveal a pair of potentially inauthentic, magnificent but indistinct breasts, c
Puddleduck
My girlfriend is going
to break up with me
soon. Before, she used
to jump in puddles so
I'd think she was cute.
Now she does it so
that she gets me wet.
Snakehips
Andy's friends started a band called the Waverley Wearers, and since he couldn't play an instrument and they needed a drummer, they let him play drums. But he couldn't keep the beat and soon they grew tired and replaced him with a snake-hipped washout who claimed he was almost somebody once, but this was probably not true. On their first gig without Andy, the Waverley Wearers and their new old drummer got spotted and signed and were on their way to world domination. Or so it felt to Andy. Really, they were stuck on a bottom scraping small town tour opening for a band you've never heard of, unless they have "the poor man
Skellington
No one knew where the skull had come from. It might have been in the drama store for years. It didn't really matter anyway, as, for the moment, no one was paying it any attention. They were too busy preparing for the school play. Jocelyn was running over the final script, crossing out the references to anal sex the year twelves hoped she wouldn't notice. It was a bad move to let them write it themselves, but the class was so enthusiastic. And it would have been fine if the head hadn't decided that they should perform it at the end of term for their parents. At first Jocelyn was thrilled, until she realised the amou
Words of love and words of pleasure
Forever I regret that I did not measure
The lengths you went through to make me smile
Sometimes I end up in tears
As photographs recall the years
Long gone when you tried to make me smile.
Screaming to the sky for you to wake up
Screaming to the sky for you to look up
And see me smile because of you.
I can't pretend I hate your photograph
But all I truly loved was the sound of your laugh
I fill the room with lilies
And they whither on the sill
There's a hole in my foot where I stepped on the plug
There's a hole in my heart I can't fill.
There's the painting you once gave me
A nightscape forg
Something old is new again . . .
Something once destroyed is
Vital now
Something came up and we're not the same
We need a name and we need it quick
For the posters now
And the vital sounds throb and set the world
Aflame
As debris comes raining down
So much hassle over one piece of land and
The piece of mind
If it's easier let them have
A piece of mine
I won't need it where this
train stops
And all the drops avoid me
'Cause mindlessness is protection
Where I come from.
They mark a black X on my hand
"Never forget where you come from"
And the beaten drum, and the stars above, and the taps above, they smell so sweet
or mayb
Where am I going, what am I doing,
And why do my wrongs come to haunt me so?
In me, you saw eternal afternoon
And by night, I was the moonlight's sweet glow.
For you, I was jewels, precious jade and jet.
You made me rich as I faded away.
Secretly I was minerals of earth
Hidden, unmined in the cool breeze of day.
I said I was beach, when really was cliff,
Storm provoked waters pretending serene.
Through this, I prayed your fingers weren't cut on
My precious glass shards, the black and the green.
You are not me, but the reverse is true:
I am part you, forged for pleasure from pain,
Keep me seperate, it's easier than
To join. The
My Emilyn. It's strange to say it now, but for a time, she was mine. I wouldn't say that we loved each other - we weren't naive enough to call what we had that, but what we did have...it was something...I don't know. Even all these years later, I don't know what we had. A mutual longing for something we never found, somebody more poetic than I might call it. But we did have something, and she was etched into my mind, whether I wanted her there or not.
Emilyn died when we were eighteen years old.
And I had mourned for her. I never understood death. Before Emilyn, it had never meant anything to me. My father had died a few years before I me
My friend who's five foot two,
Whose life is in descent,
Since they won't let her sing
Using her own accent.
And I long to find a soul
Who will share my punishment
But I'm stuck with fools who work
To negate the government.
I woke up in the dark
I tried to slip away
Til I remembered the place was mine
I looked onto the street
I tried to hide away
Til I remembered the world was mine.
*
Where were you when I needed you?
I'm not one to be filled with doubt
But love shoudn't be left at home
Listening to music with lights out.
*
I dabble in confidence,
But the quiet treatment fits
So everyone thinks I'm shy
While I try to get a grip.
My darling boy, you have killed me.
In little time, you have filled me
With the kind of icy cool touch
That no one but I longed to see.
You see? Why indulge me so well?
I deserve to be dragged through hell,
Torn and ripped out the other end,
Seeing things I could never tell.
But my unworthy soul of ice
Has softly melted, all is nice.
Why did you go and love me so,
And, at last, kill my life of vice?
or...Life and Death in Circles by MacDoherty, literature
Literature
or...Life and Death in Circles
"A Dull Poem Looking Forward To Autumn,
or
Life & Death in Circles."
Why curse the summer night
For emptiness of sky,
Or that the breeze can't sigh
Like love set you alight?
Welcome the russet trees
Instead. Watch the leaves fall.
Take time to count them all.
No death, when this brings ease.
Take comfort in death's cost.
There's joy within the strife:
Take time, grow love for life,
Mourn those you think you've lost.
(Forever will you yearn
When the lady won't turn.)
sonnet of returns by twobefore-sunrise, literature
Literature
sonnet of returns
Come to me now, before I forget
How to view you in this morning light.
Battle-worn, young, and prepared to fight;
No more excuses have I left to bet
In the stale ring of old apologies.
Come close, with cheeks warm with that nonsense blush,
As if you were afraid that I would shush
The words your body speaks only to me.
I welcome you, as I am sure you know
Your warmth is one I barely understand;
While usually iron grips my hand,
I yearn the livelier kicks passion bestows.
Forget me the cold thoughts within my head
And let us create new ones in your bed.
A Brilliant Day by SlideBeneathTheCity, literature
Literature
A Brilliant Day
Last week there was an awesome day where I had my hand on her knee, sliding slowly up her leg, willing her not to stop me before I got there, when the kid Ellen banged on the window and shouted some bullshit telling us to come out cos we had to go shopping. She couldnt see in, but it meant Lucy got straight up out of the settee and ran over to push aside the net curtain and tell her we would be out in a minute. She turned around and smiled sheepishly, and then she bit her lip saying sorry like she wanted to continue, grabbed my hand and took me outside.
Sunny day. Ellen stood on the path with traffic roaring behind her, her face
He was weathered; having lived
through 4 (5?) dictatorships
and communism of the most obtuse.
A penut farmer, former herder,
former boy.
and we are left
one six-billionth of a whole.
Lift your eyes.
Reach out your hand over borderlands and oceans.
Rest your hand in mine.
I love you through black and white postcards and back again.
Turn over the songs written before we were born
In the shadows built before our city had a name.
Put your lips to mine.
I love you through circuses and flowering cherries, I do.
An instant that never had to sign its name in tippex
A kiss that needed no key grip or gaffer
To brand itself into our hereafter.
I love you through tears and Roman candles, my only.
I have felt the day break around us
I've known the capturing ascent of your touch, your breath an absolution on my cheek.
I r
Blues
She was sitting on the bus and she was crying. She began by crying the way they do in the films, with fat tears rolling down her cheeks, framing an impassive face. And then she cried like they do in real life, eyes swollen and set deep within red blotchy skin. The girl struggled to control her breathing, alternating deep, calm gulps with near-hysterical choking, air catching in her throat.
And he was sitting directly opposite her, feeling obliged to react. He shifted from the window seat and swung his legs into the aisle until he was facing her. Dont cry, he said, full
Current Residence: London Town via Northern Ireland Favourite genre of music: Eurovision written by Serge Gainsbourg Personal Quote: Sic transit gloria
Favourite Movies
Rushmore, Now Voyager, Une Femme Est Une Femme, My Favourite Year, There'll Be Blud
Writing here played a huge part in my development as a writer (boke) and in my life. It is hard to remember a time when I didn't understand how to write, to beaver away in silence for hours, tearing out pages, giving up on beloved characters for the greater good, and sometimes for nothing at all. The writers and artists I encountered here mean a huge amount to me. But one by one, life gets in the way, people move on. I move on. I think it's time to attempt something new.
In future, all new writing will appear here: http://bronaghfegan.wordpress.com/
Do stop by if you want to say hello.
x
I went crazy awhile ago YOUKNOWJUSTFORFUN and I unwatched everyone, but I want to watch you again because I like you because your hair looks cool and I want you to do my hair like your hair but greener and uglier.