division

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the people

bright-coloured half-knotted ties entangled exclusively
with short-sleeved fake polo shirts and contrasting hoops
sport tracksuits unused for exercise, with burberry caps
shaven skulls and harsh glances rupture the midday sunlight
skinny scarves, long black coats, curly greasy hair
obligatory headbanging and white headphones
denim miniskirts, midriff-exposing summer tops
glossy lips and dark eyes, make-up shall never melt

the city

flashing lights redgreenblueyellow overwhelm the distant stars
widen the pupils, extend the migrane, tingle the retina
late night dancegaragehiphopreggaesoulrockindieemo
hide the bottle smashing antics and fisticuffs
crashing from the alleyways to the streets, don't walk
don't run. swagger. the blood, the sweat, the beer
taste like piss, mainstream liquids always did
loveithateit paint the town red, paint the town dead

the hate

blue-redred-bluered-redblue-blue, it never ceases
to amaze, rivalry and hatred, friendship and camaraderie
small knives and last stands, kicking nuts and not balls
burning the bleeding cross, stamping the star-shitted banner
the colour of your team, not the colour of your skin
scouser, geordie, mancunian, cockney, brummie
when did the flower forget to keep growing, keep extending
from the sixty times, from the barrel of the gun

the end

when it all falls down, flag at half-mast, scarves held proudly
the tears will flow from the streets to the coast, the city
to the village, head to head, scum to scum, man to man
light pockets and heavy hearts, we're all english.
Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.




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jack--im like so impressed. i dont really know what to say.

"when it all falls down, flag at half-mast, scarves held proudly
the tears will flow from the streets to the coast, the city
to the village, head to head, scum to scum, man to man
light pockets and heavy hearts, we're all english."

that was wicked! omg.

i can't really critique this--sorry, but there's like, not much i can say at all.
when there's nowhere to go, it's time to grow up.




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Exactly. I've been looking at this for some time, trying to figure out why you said you didn't know why you posted it, and I still don't get why you said that.

The last stanza was wicked (excellent word choice, Morgan).

I don't usually see poetry divided up in this manner unless it's much, much longer, but it fits, strangly enough, and I like it.

loveithateit paint the town red, paint the town dead

I just liked how that felt when read. It is a bit.. not quite morbid, but something along those lines.
***Under the Responsibility of S.P.E.W.***
(Sadistic Perplexion of Everyone's Wits)

Medieval Lit! Come here to find out who Chaucer plagiarized and translated - and why and how it worked in the late 1300s.

I <3 Rydia




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Thanks guys.
Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.




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Jack- that was incredible.

flashing lights redgreenblueyellow overwhelm the distant stars
widen the pupils, extend the migrane, tingle the retina


Clever...

when it all falls down, flag at half-mast, scarves held proudly
the tears will flow from the streets to the coast, the city
to the village, head to head, scum to scum, man to man
light pockets and heavy hearts, we're all english.


Wow. That really evokes some powerful images.

This is truly marvelous. Great job.
Got YWS?

"Most of us have far more courage than we ever dreamed we possessed."
- Dale Carnegie




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this...is...immense! Golly..the imagery is fantastic....perfect, in fact. Great work, noo...AMAZING work.

when it all falls down, flag at half-mast, scarves held proudly
the tears will flow from the streets to the coast, the city
to the village, head to head, scum to scum, man to man
light pockets and heavy hearts, we're all english.


*implodes* i wish i was english....

wait, what am i saying?! Look what you made me do. *shakes fist*
"Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish,
A vapour sometimes like a bear or lion,
A towered citadel, a pendant rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory,
With trees upon't that nod unto the world,And mock our eyes with air.."



Everything has to be taken on trust; truth is only that which is taken to be true. It's the currency of living. There may be nothing behind it, but it doesn't make any difference so long as it is honoured. One acts on assumptions. What do you assume?
— Player (Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead by Tom Stoppard)