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Ghosts are the past

Curb your enthusiasm 

how dull is a wrench

silver sparkle within the black

relieve the pressure off his back

rusty cart requires oil, a ponies last trek

closed yet spirits remain on the track

 

Curb your enthusiasm

how dark a town be

kept alive with death, no returning muscle

white skin, a shower put in 

vegetable soup, you're off the grisle

a monument built of steel to last 

the ghosts are far off in the past

 

Curb your enthusiasm 

Robin of sherwood, oh Nottingham sigh

it was inevitable!, treacherous scum cry

the day must end, so doth the year

so scatter wide, thy noise round fire 

open a tin, settle in and have a beer

the rich have Christmas

our spirit died here.

 

◄ Bot or Not ?

Damn Garden ►

Comments

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raypool

Tue 17th Nov 2015 17:31

Just wanted to add that I often drove down the M1 at night and was enchanted by the sight of red mist and heat that was seen on the eastern side for miles around Nottingham. Probably over by the early 90s. All the best.

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Patricio LG

Tue 17th Nov 2015 15:27

Thank you very much, Ray yes, the scent, touch, to actually feel what I am writing and sense history with it, is important to me
Thankyou David, a memory of times when black gold would end life short, but was so essential for a way of life for the men and women in towns and essential for Britain, then desolated by political change destroying people's lives leaving behind ghosts that still remain.

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raypool

Tue 17th Nov 2015 13:27

Absolutely love this one , it lives in a dream and has strong imagery . I was thinking of your love of all things touchable (wood and the like) and this blends in to the material sense of a place.
Nice one. Ray

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