The roads are blocked from here to there,
drivers are gridlocked with despair,
traffic pollution’s everywhere,
ask the coroner, ask the mayor,
fellow commuters, could sometimes share,
use yellow buses, if fares are fair,
one thing’s for certain, please be aware,
Greater Manchester needs clean air.
I remember the first day I saw you,
The blonde-haired boy with the ocean blue eyes,
A lob sided grin and tan skin,
I was never much a girl for Manchester boys,
That was until I met you and my heart skipped a beat in joy,
He’s smart, Athletic and funny,
Though we’ve never talked i know his favourite colour and the way he likes his hair,
And as I stare at the sun I think of him the bright boy who I wish calls my name,
Instead he has another girl
Prettier skinnier curvier perfect in everyway,
His eyes crinkle in awe as he looks down at the model tucked close to his side,
And as he leans down to kiss her their eyes never break contact,
They share a love that I couldn’t possibly ever compete with,
A couple everyone dreams over,
Wishing for a relationship like theirs,
And as I look up at the sun I think of him,
The boy who makes me smile every time my eyes lock on his,
Though he never talks or even acknowledges me,
I still fall in love with that Manchester boy,
My Manchester boy.
i've just been reliably informed that
the manchester united dressing room was bugged
before their match at aston villa
it is a shocking security breach
but classic sci-fi can be a bit hit and miss
like my pancakes
but we soldier on
we have tickets for the opera
as we still await to see on stage the essentials;
making a cup of tea
reading the newspaper
putting on a pair of socks
but there's a character on stage dying from
tuberculosis, which according to Wikipedia is an infectious disease.
that causes
significant damage to the lungs
and she's singing her heart out
i whisper to my wife, "this is fun."
that italia '90 fella was good
you'll be in tears
Manchester
Man United, Man City
A great Mancs debate,
For the love of the game ?
Or inspiring hate?
Stone Roses, Oasis
The Mondays, The Fall,
A town full of talent
Which inspires us all.
A town full of pride
With a past full of pain,
We cry in the sun
And laugh in the rain.
A diverse, cultural city
Where you’re never alone,
I’m talking ‘bout Manchester
The place I call home??
Trinity Street, Bolton,
it was Jack and Jaya’s first date,
Jack had got there early,
worried he’d be late,
the ticket woman said,
to head for platform two,
“you’ll have to get a move on though,
your train is almost due”,
from Moses Gate to Manchester,
the world went flashing by,
factories and football fields,
beneath a clouded sky,
soon the train screeched to a halt,
with much anticipation,
our young couple disembarked,
and left Victoria Station,
Jack and Jaya walked and talked,
round Manchester for hours,
Jack laughed and said that “their town hall,
is not nice as ours!”,
in Piccadilly Gardens,
Jaya groaned at more of his jokes,
whilst they ate cheese pasties,
and shared a can of Coke,
travelling back Jack wondered,
about a kiss on the cheek,
but Jaya simply smiled and said,
“let’s try Wigan next week…”.
I venture out
For the first time in a while
And am met by a sight:
A Saturday Street Preacher,
His altar an upturned crate,
Voice amplified by a tinny megaphone.
He reads not from the Good Book,
But shames those who are not like him.
He calls their lifestyle sinful,
Their existence a contradiction.
His congregation is
The cacophony of furious, raised voices
Arguing against his every word.
Is it a perversion of faith
To force teachings onto the unwilling?
To twist the words
For your own bigoted narrative?
Saturday Street Preacher,
You are more akin to a pariah
Than the bargain-bin Messiah
You think you are.
You cannot hide your true feelings
In the pages of sacred scripture
And claim them to be gospel.
Saturday Street Preacher,
He dresses for his sermons in
Jeans and a t-shirt,
Bible brandished as a weapon
And that weakened upturned crate
Beneath his weary feet.
He performs his midday mass
To the masses who
Scream their retaliation in return.
His Sermon on the Mount
Is muffled shouting
In a busy city centre.
Rain pouring on pubs
Grey cotton weaving up high
Sprinkling on churches
Towers and showers
You fall then you rise
Making love to the clouds
It's mundane you despise
Let's cut to the chase
Keep our words short today
I'm proud of this city
Perhaps 'nice one' you'd say
I think you are awesome
In the day or the night
As the faces peer up
Or peek out to the sight
Of industrious city
Laced with tramways and cars
With it's heroes and humour
Or it's battle strewn scars
On the surface you're hard
Always up for a fight
Dig deeper.. discover
A heartbeat, you might
Whether homeless or minted
Perhaps just passing through
Our Mancunian spirit
Is now running through you.
Seems a Manchester man dropped trow
to test out a sofa, and how!
The fabric is swell;
it resisted poo well.
Good news too, it’s half price right now!
—————
Reported by employees at the Sofa Club in Manchester’s Arndale Centre. The disposition of the couch is poetic license…
He is Anderson Dan,
A Man U Fanatical fan;
Only five minutes ago,
To Hell did go ...
Indeed, nearly mad ran,
Man U supposing in some frying pan,
Having Chelsea’s thrust lifted a ban;
In a match Chelsea had been A Titan,
Easily to Man U telling “I can”
And once again “That Chelsea can”.
Bamboozled Anderson Dan,
Had to forget his being a Man:
“Oh!” Chelsea is sure to our skin tan”!
Devils roar angels bow
History unfold the DNA is red
We unite the universe
Our fanzone is enormous
We produced legends
We conquered Europe
The rival clubs are terrified
They're battered in Trafford
Sir. Bobby Charlton humbled the crowd
Sir. Alex Ferguson stand, Ole is on the wheel now..
Old Trafford is a fotress, it frightens the other clubs..
We're successful, we're the home of trophies...
We sucked the rival clubs but not like vampires..
We're the pride of England
We support the batch..
We're proud to be called the sons of the devil but not like Dracula..
We're Manchester
I'm so proud to be British,
so proud of the west,
the unity and love we possess
empathy and passion,
for it is our fashion
and it only makes us stronger
it only gives us more determination.
it only makes us stand closer,
we may not feel it as strong as those directly involved,
but we stand as one with them in resolve, hear their story told
you attack one Brit you attack all Brits,
you attack one of the western world,
you attack all in the western world ,
a defiance and togetherness mankind and planet earth has never known,
hate planted the seed, love sees it grow,
and forever stronger, forever
much love one love, well done Ariana,
thoughts and love to victims
those involved or connected with the incidents...
we are united people
with one love
we are against evil
"This is the best time of the day,"
The taxi man said,
"Before those buggers go to work.
Half an hour's time
You couldn't drive down here."
"I wouldn't want to."
I replied, looking up at the clear air,
Signatured with vapour trails,
And wishing Manchester
Were Singapore or Cape Town.
Kim Helen James
January 1997
Manchester remembers,
The twenty-two lives that were taken,
Two years on,
Their memories never to be forsaken,
Manchester remembers,
Not just the twenty-two,
Prayers go out to the survivors,
Thoughts are with all of you.
Manchester remembers,
How the City came together,
A force to be reckoned with,
No matter who, what or whether.
Manchester remembers,
The feeling of disbelief,
In the aftermath the city bonded,
Consoling those wracked with grief,
Manchester refused to quit,
Manchester stands tall,
Manchester remains strong,
Manchester remembers them all.
Just got back from Manchester Arena
Went to go and see Depeche Mode live in Concert
In what was only a few months back
A suicide bombers graveyard
A crime scene for taken departed teens
But tonight the only screams
Were of unbridled joy
I only pray the dead can hear
That they still live in here
And feed off the love
Of the fan's and band who play
Every clapping hand stomping foot
I hope they approve
I hope they have found peace
I hope they look over the living
I hope they are in paradise
I hope it was worth your sacrifice
I hope you enjoyed tonight as much as I did
The show must go on
And your memory will never be gone
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