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Whichwards [Aug. 26th, 2008|10:19 pm]
Bob Skeleton, Goth Detective



It’s not what we say, she said, she said
It’s not what they say that we said.
There’s world beyond and a world behind and we are doomed,
doomed,
beautiful and hopeless, irrevocably doomed.
The futures; we won’t pen, [but they just might].
The futures; we won’t write, [but they just might].
Our future; we won’t live, [but I think they just might].
Given half a chance [& half a chance we might].

There's...Collapse )
Link8 let go|Please dont let it go

the puddle theory... [Mar. 17th, 2008|08:11 pm]
Bob Skeleton, Goth Detective
. . . imagine a puddle waking up one morning and thinking, 'This is an interesting world I find myself in, an interesting hole I find myself in, fits me rather neatly, doesn't it? In fact it fits me staggeringly well, must have been made to have me in it!'
This is such a powerful idea that as the sun rises in the sky and the air heats up and as, gradually, the puddle gets smaller and smaller, it's still frantically hanging on to the notion that everything's going to be alright, because this world was meant to have him in it, was built to have him in it; so the moment he disappears catches him rather by surprise.
I think this may be something we need to be on the watch out for.
LinkPlease dont let it go

another poem... [Feb. 19th, 2008|08:44 pm]
Bob Skeleton, Goth Detective
Meeting at Night
The gray sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.


Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!


...


Parting at Morning
Round the cape of a sudden came the sea,
And the sun looked over the mountain's rim:
And straight was a path of gold for him,
And the need of a world of men for me.


R Browning
LinkPlease dont let it go

the quiet world by jeffrey mcdaniel [Feb. 14th, 2008|10:05 pm]
Bob Skeleton, Goth Detective
In an effort to get people to look
into each other's eyes more,
the government has decided to allot
each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it
to my ear without saying hello.
In the restaurant I point
at chicken noodle soup. I am
adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long
distance lover and proudly say
I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn't respond, I know
she's used up all her words
so I slowly whisper I love you,
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.
Link2 let go|Please dont let it go

(no subject) [Nov. 22nd, 2007|06:51 pm]
Bob Skeleton, Goth Detective
Let us be lovely,
And let us be kind,
Let us be silly and free,
It won't make us famous,
It won't make us rich,
But dammit how happy we'll be
Link4 let go|Please dont let it go

(no subject) [Oct. 17th, 2007|07:27 pm]
Bob Skeleton, Goth Detective
There's a full moon shining
and a joker in the pack
the dealer's dealt the cards,
and he won't take them back
There's a black cat stalking
and a women who's afraid
that there's no getting off
without the price being paid...
Link2 let go|Please dont let it go

like acid, sometimes it burns [Sep. 30th, 2007|10:19 pm]
Bob Skeleton, Goth Detective
[1]
It’s warm. not the oppressive warm of the day, and not yet the cool of the evening just a stagnant warm that is complemented by the soft breeze, not broken by it, a half-arsed warmth, feeling like you do at ten to knock off time, when you know you have to carry on working but it’s so close to the end that it doesn’t quite feel worth it or it’s like that state you reach, just before you completely succumb to the realms of sleep, when you’re lost in dreams yet still conscious of the world around you, gently hanging on to the tip of reality by the tiniest of threads.
There's a million romantic ways to describe it...Collapse )
Link9 let go|Please dont let it go

(no subject) [Aug. 17th, 2007|10:10 pm]
Bob Skeleton, Goth Detective
Link5 let go|Please dont let it go

(no subject) [Aug. 4th, 2007|02:00 pm]
Bob Skeleton, Goth Detective
we all know
there's no hitler and no holocaust
no winter and no santa clause
there's no hell and no hiroshima
chernobyl was a cover up
the world is really all in love


but you can stop the truth from leaking
if you never stop believing...
LinkPlease dont let it go

and i can be your dirty little secret [Jun. 29th, 2007|09:12 pm]
Bob Skeleton, Goth Detective

Cheap hotel rooms. Musty cigarette smells wafting off well worn pillows. Television; frayed power cord and only two channels. Dank and dirty carpet, once green now grey. Squeaky mattress adorned with rough blankets, wrapped in the scent of one too many occupants. Walls, sepia in tone, framed by blistering cornices. Mini bar hidden behind broken hinges; tiny drinks inadequate for oversized appetites. Heavy curtains hang from bent rods; decorated by patterns only the eighties could love. Clutter spread across the lone tabletop; gossip mags, teacups, hand held mirror, cheap lipstick and empty champagne bottles. The thrill of uncertainty and possible disclosure a potent aphrodisiac. High heels; discarded by the foot of the bed, clothes; similarly so. The Gideon bible tucked within the bedside table, blind to the commandments we break. Our transient affection reflected poorly in the dim and dusty mirror. Consolation found in grimy rooms and seas of other peoples dirty little secrets.
Your side of the bed; still warm.
Link8 let go|Please dont let it go

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