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Artex Walls and a Union Jack flag

The year is 1987
the Artex walls of number 11
the union jack flag left in the loft by the owner before
Ted and Helen who lived next door

close to the school, a walk away
summer days on the wreck we'd  play
we had the coal bunker cellar underneath our feet
my great uncle sonny lived across the street
no bath, only showers here
the broken bedroom door, closing fear
tiles on the floor and...

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Childhood memoriespunk poetryworking class

Isn't summer grand.

Suns out
Folk about
Ice cream van

No joke
Topless man

Tidy lasses
Sun glasses
Voddy in hand

Sandals on feet
And BBQ meat
Isn't summer grand?

Shit tatts
Bucket hats
Drugdeals from car

Kids play
at park all day
Sit outside a bar

Lesson learnt
Skin red raw

Sun tan
Fantastic man
Party next door

Smell sweat
No regret
Stella in hand

Air con...

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Punk poetryrhythmicalsummersun


The style started in the UK in the  year 1969
A look that's aged like a fine glass of wine
Because I think Mr. Symarip sung it the best
That skinbyrds are sweeter than the rest
Fred Perry, braces and Doc martens on the foot
These ladies have style with the occasional Chelsea feather cut

The music is vital
With the occasional love of punk and  Oi, Northern Soul or ska
On the dancefloor yo...

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punk poetrySka

Time will pass you by

Youth culture
Talc on the floor
The music is in rare quantity
For what's in store

Symbol of the night owl
Wigan casino
The ll nighters seem to last all day
Phet taken in mass dosage
To dance the blues away

Dapper lads in flares or tonics
Tidy lasses
With Off shoots of the mods
Are flock to be here
After Trading records at the pub
Drinking that first beer

Who dances the best?

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culturemusicnorthern soulpunk poetrysubculture stuff

Down with the sickness

I'm stockpiling the hand sanitizer
To be none the wiser
to build up hopeful Coronavirus resistance
Hoping to be blessed with  ongoing lousy existence

Like the police said 
"Dont stand so close to me"
As we breathe in this overfed media tripe
I guess chuck d was correct
Don't believe the hype
As if you Repeat a lie long enough
And said lie comes truth
 it scares the whole nation
It's ...

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Corona viruspunk poetrytopical

How is your black dog today?

For starters: offense to real, man's best friends dogs. I love them, but also are scared of them in a way. This one is dedicated to the "black dog'" that haunts a lot of people's lives. I did a DJ gig on this day tonight and met a fellow who told me he does a mental health group to protect people who do not talk about what they are and or feel obsessed with or feel suicidal. We bought a few drinks...

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depressionmental healthno bullshit only factspunk poetryreal life

I need you ( a halloween ode to companionship)

(apologies to the similar-sounding John Hegley piece also titled "I need you")

I need you
Like Dracula needs a neck to suck
Like Hannibal lector needs victims to cook
Like Jason needs the 13th day
Like Micheal Myers needs teens to slay

I need you
like werewolves need a moon to howl
I want to be kept "rock hard"
forever in your medusa scowl

I need you
Like Vincent Price needs bats ...

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companionshipHalloweenoctoberPunk poetryunrequited love

Ska'd for life.

I wasn't born in 1969

but when i hear the music i feel just fine
that infectious Jamaican brassy beat
with my docs on i start to move my feet
what is this music i hear you calling from afar?
that my friend is Bluebeat or two tone ska
the braces are on, am shaving my hair
working on that rudeboy stare
but tonight they be no fights 
as i'm out there jamming to the skatilites!

bob wasn'...

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heritageJamaicaMusicpunk poempunk poetry


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Dazzling lights
And stag do fights
The homeless here read books
There always a sense of fear any time of year
Seeing seagulls give hungry looks

There's the Blackpool tower
Where you can escape the occasional summer shower
But the price in is obscene
On the streets, there are fortune tellers
And joke booksellers
The beach never looks clean

But for the kids, it's all fun

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Blackpoolholidaypunk poetrySocial Observations

When I die...

When I die
They'll not be a cloud in the sky
They'll be riot vans
With megaphones
All around the haligonian streets
As the public are treated to ska at 140 beats

A group of mourning maidens
Will be in black on every street corner
With a "punk with a northern soul" t shirt to adorn her
The ladies and friends I have admired
Will be quoted in high regard
And my adversaries will be silenc...

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Funnypoetrypunk poetry

Against Apathy (2019 version)

This poem was conceived in 2013 as a response to none voters. For years I did not vote but was vocal on the state of the country. certain parts to reflect the current change in Britain has been rewritten to give the piece more of a serious message. thanks for reading and do your bit today.

Nevermind the ballots!
is what the none-voters like to say
but quite frankly I'm sick of Brexit, Farage ...

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punk poetryvoting apathyvoting day

double standards

you give money to patreons
and gofundme
cos the content looks neat
but won't bat an eyelid
to the homeless dying on the street

take a photo with them
do it for a couple of likes
meanwhile when winter comes around
they're outside dying on anti-homeless spikes

this is a raising epidemic
doesn't it make you feel sad
that could be your brother

as the rich get richer

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homelesspunk poetryrealization

The Day Gentrication Struck.. The Fax

My town, Halifax has gone through a rapid change since 2017 and the opening of the piece hall again.
with this, a whole line of musicians and artists and "outsiders" have flocked here to enjoy the "brewed to local taste" flavor of our town with the newly added additions of gin bars, vape shops, record stores etc..

But I remember the time before all this. the years of smoke-filled pubs filled wit...

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GentrificationHalifaxPunk Poetryshoreditch of the northyorkshire

No more heartfelt apologies.

This poem was written in the wake of the Windrush scandal and a look in my past life as a child been racially abused in my school days of 1997. the words I have used here may be considered offensive to some but are used here to hit the nail home they are and never will be acceptable in this time of age, as I am sick of the halfhearted apologies people make for saying them. 


This one goes o...

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angeranti-racismHeritagepunk poetryracism


One for Halloween, a cautionary tale if you don't eat your vitamins and read the Daily Mail...

I went out feeling left-wing one night
when my eyes were fixated on an eerie sight
in the sky, there was a full moon
and what happened next is like been in a cartoon

My nails grew long
I got sharpened teeth
there was hair
where they shouldn't be growing beneath
but fear not, this isn't a Werew...

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funnyhalloweenpunk poetry

Social Netjerking

facebook tells me i have been on this diary of misinterpreted thoughts 10 years yesterday. what better time to share this poem? i wrote this comical piece in a short-lived sabbatical i took last year:

I'm sick of being on facebook
i'm sick of all the likes
i'm sick of all this unfriending
and pics of stolen bikes

i'm sick of giving you a "thumbs up"
for something you said and did
and th...

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facebookpunk poetryrantsocial-media

The Ballad of Black Roy (For My grandfather)

Yesterday i was given the news my often eccentric, but also very old grandfather on my dad's side has gone to hospital. sketchy details, sounds like a stroke by the sound of it. around 1997 i started to see my grandfather after the passing of my dad. he was always a fun and amusing person to listen to, as he was from Kingston Jamaica, so i was never far from a "Raasclart" been mentioned. We later ...

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Childhood memoriesfamilygrandfathermemoriespunk poetry

Public Mileage Limited

dedicated to John Lydon/Lygone/Rotten/Forgotten, on his recent outburst...

Rubber Johnny's been buttered up
Now his talk is cheap
The punks that once did idolise him
Have now begun to weep
His public image limited
Now there's no anarchy in the UK
He used to hate the queen
But now probably wants a knighthood to come his way

They say never have idols
Cos all they'll do is break your he...

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Johnny rottenpunk poetrySex pistols

He'll Make America Great Again

entry picture

Don't give that man your tears today
Though it's dark now you'll find a way
Now is the time to laugh, sing and create
Throw the bile back at his tangerine face
I call on the punks, the poets, the artists, the revolutionaries and the visionaries, don't let the spark be snuffed out in vain
Come together and show him how you'll make yourself great again 

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american politicsdonald trumppolitical poempolitical poetrypunk poempunk poetryTrump


entry picture

Another moist, reluctant sunrise
through the night sweat morning dew
the worm pushed towards the light
loosely erect

Across the lawn
the over stuffed pigeon
puffed up her unkempt plumage
cooed a taunt
How dare you wake up today
How dare you show that you tried today

Waddling heavily
she pinched him up
gluttony oozing
heaved him away
apatheticaly consenting to his fate


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autumnbritish gardendesolationmonday bluesmorningnaturepunk poetry


One sparked up a fresh Richmond under the glow of the heat lamp, the other puffed away on a menthol grape vape that scented the shelter.

The stubborn silence was broken with an offhand comment on the rain. He smirked, snorted and agreed but still seemed out of the moment.

Another heavy drag on the dark blue electric fag in his hand

Through thick and thin, for better or for worse, in sickn...

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kitchen sinkmental healthpunk poetry

The Caveman

entry picture

We had an argument
not a big all guns blazin’ my mother was right about you argument
just a silly one
that made me regress
retreat to my cave
where I consulted with the great oracle YouTube
he slid over his recommendations
topping the bill

John Lennon and Yoko Ono on love | Blank On Blank | PBS Digital Studios

John’s opening statement, when asked ‘’couples always seem to be not gettin...

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grumpyJohn and Yokojohn lennonlovelove poempunkpunk poetry

Ode to Poly

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Dedicated to X Ray Spex vocalist Mari "Poly Styrene" Elliot. 

Exotic colored clothes
metallic braced teeth
a refusal to be sex symbol
punk aura underneath

Living in a plastic bag
as a germfree adolescent
in '77 you proclaimed we where all going mad

Age, you're so afraid
of the silly billys
and been strangled by plastic popper beads

I know you're antiseptic
but your deodrant sme...

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2016newpunk poetryx ray spex

For Peace & For Pride

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On two summer days
in 1945
were casualties of Hell itself embodied on Earth
the pride of a foreign power
raised cities to ashes
scorched shadows into the soil
for peace

Between October 1962
and November 1983
the World faced exinction
day to day
minute to minute
all for the sake of
the pride of two foreign powers 

On July 18th 2016
an unelected...

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CNDNuclearnuclear disarmamentpeacepoliticalpolitical poempolitical poetrypunkpunk poempunk poetry

Her, Love

entry picture

I’m here to tell you
that she is

My Jamia
My Adrienne
My Lyn-Z

My Sally
My Morticia
My April
My Pam

My stars in the cold black night
My punk rock Queen

She’s a rebel
She’s a riot
She’s a muse

And I’ll always wear her heart proudly on my sleeve
her love is my energy
her love is my gasoline

and we’re burning bright.

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love poemlove poetrypunkpunk poempunk poetryromanceromantic poetrytrue love

Swayed On The Knife Edge

I held my breath taut
as she swayed on the knife edge
arms calming dipping, rising
dignified reslilience 
I blew her my love and fell to sleep

as father turned on son

as daughter turned on mother

as neighbour turned on neighbour

as she fell

Rule Britannia?  

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hope not hatepolitical poempoliticial poetrypunkpunk poetryreferendum

An Open Letter To The Occupant I & II

Good afternoon one and all!

I hope this isnt cheating as such, but I've just uploaded a two-part poem over on my soundcloud, these can be listened to either as a whole or as seperate tracks. Please find the link below and I hope you enjoy!




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audiopoempoliticalpunkpunk poetrysoundcloudspoken word

A Tale Of Reincarnation

6th December



There was a monk
well, a former monk
and he was handing out free cups of tea
to passers-by
As he did he spoke of
Great Energies
and letting go of material possessions.

I took him up on his offer and we conversed
but then he asked me about my job
and I ashamedly admitted that I felt down
I work for a corporation
but he held me in a s...

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black humourcomedyhumourleedspoempoetrypunkpunk poetry

Saturday Night Thursday Morning

Saturday night, family gathered around the TV
a small feast of pizza and chips waiting for BGT, Xfactor or Strictly
across the nation, we get sucked into this circus reality, our eyes transfixed and rigid as a mass of drones,
our fingers and thumbs hovering over Facebook and Twitter on our smartphones
we’ve all followed  the stories and campaigns from week zero,
gripped our sofa arms as The A...

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politicalpoliticspoltical poetrypunkpunk poetryvoting apathy

I Met God

I had a vision! or i heard him..

I Met God

I met god
in the form of a urinal
told me he wasn't a DJ
nor did he spin vinyl
but when we made the connection
his tap into my system felt spinal
he spoke equolent, his words final:

"now keiron,
recently i haven't heard you pray
and tell me are you practicising to be good, ten times a day?"

I felt bewildered
and put this voice down to a h...

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funnew stuff.poetrypunk poetry

Rebellion: A Punk Poem

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Rebellion: A Punk Poem
 a poem wrote about my experience at the fabulous Rebellion punk festival in Blackpool.

for 4 whole days I went there
surrounded by studs, docs and spiky hair
this is the place, a mecca where punks meet
to perhaps converse bands or politics 
and drink buckfast in the street
Ignore your fashion tag!
and your right to "rebel"
instead meet some of the cider lovi...

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festivalpunk poetryrebellion

Thirty Plus Years In An Open Necked Shirt

entry picture

Thirty Plus Years In An Open Necked Shirt.


On seeing John Cooper Clarke @ Wakefield Theatre Royal (29/9/13)


Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke

a walking bag of bones

staggers out onto the stage

like Keith Richards from the Stones

rapid, machine gun delivery

sprays audience with Salford tones

jitters, jives, ducks and dives

whilst wrestling with the micr...

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john cooper clarkePerformance Poetspoetrypunk poetrytheatre Royal Wakefield

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