tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53354461187079418062024-03-14T02:53:17.850-07:00Blue eyesJoe Gardnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15851754770753809545noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335446118707941806.post-34540412579506586882009-08-18T13:03:00.000-07:002009-09-10T15:15:26.284-07:00I want to get lost in translation with you, breaking <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">boundaries</span>.<br /><br />The Foundations fall through the floor and the sound is a howling for a second,<br />then more of a scowling thought.<br /><br />No words, as fingertips speak for us<br />and you learn the contours of my back with your palm.<br /><br />We trust in each others arms.<br /><br />harm is a million miles away from here with its feet in concrete at the bottom of a pier.<br />no fear...no tears...<br /><br />Kiss away my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">sadness</span> and share some ideas,<br />help me fill this blank pad as the end of our time together nears.<br /><br />I want to get lost with you,<br />into the wild then out to the open blue where my mind and heart can bloom,<br />where wide eyes can tell the truth and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">there's</span> no need to exchange or prove a word with<br />or to you.<br /><br />I want to get lost.<br /><br />I want to get lost in translation with you.Joe Gardnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15851754770753809545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335446118707941806.post-66093983922239257972009-05-07T12:03:00.000-07:002009-05-07T12:15:02.432-07:00cumshots and kebab shopsCompassion, cruelty and cold feet... a sour mixture<br />evidently clear to all that bother to glance.<br />Broken women and<br />Bastard men.<br />daughters with out mothers and government b and b's!<br />Hail to the job centre,<br />a hands down successful method of keeping you confused,<br />enraged<br />and dumb as fuck.<br />A kind heart can make a day.<br />A headline can haunt the night.<br />A women with a mobile phone and an opinion<br />meets a man with a big heart and a heavy hand, <br />but who can put a price on love? love?<br />Empty churches call for funerals,<br />weddings and fools...<br />Scented candles give head aches homeless men don't feel.<br />death, joy, sex, drugs, love, pain,<br />pride, mistakes, men, women,<br />children, crime, cumshots, guns,<br />kebab shops, guilt, faith, the sun,<br />the moon, the soil, the good days<br />and the bad...<br />'in life a man must come to terms with everything<br />or nothing'.Joe Gardnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15851754770753809545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335446118707941806.post-18798025027140728562008-10-26T14:34:00.000-07:002008-11-03T06:55:58.884-08:00<p class="postbody"><span style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);">Caroline has lived with her granny now for 5 years. She left her fathers house because he's a drunk. Once a strong, dedicated navy fellow, he's now a shell of a man entwined in his own uninspiring melancholy. Self absorbed in every way, he's a pitiful and angry man.<br />The glory days are long gone for him...<br />Kate moved out at 14. She's always been particular and very sensibly Stern. Though it broke her heart, she willingly left... knew he was no good.<br /></span></p><p class="postbody"><span style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);">Her granny is a sweet sweet lady with not a bad bone to her withered, shrinking skeleton. She has looked after Katie just as Katie will look after her one day. With <b>love</b>. Porridge in the morning, talks in the afternoon, and meals in the evening. Always a night at grannies finishing with hot chocolate in the living room in front of the box. With an air of true comfort surrounding them that not even glade could replicate, Katie would wonder where her childhood went and why she didn't spend more of it HERE... in this haven of warmth. A place where she could always feel safe, be herself without animosity or fear of judgement. A place and a feeling she will always Cherish.<br />A place to call home.<br />Kate didn't know her mother until 19 months ago. She met her for the first time two weeks before Christmas of last year, and didn't <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">receive</span> a gift. Fuck it. Her mother is not worth talking too much about for she was never involved in Katie's life, never has been, and Kate refuses to let her now. This i suppose you could either see as important or totally <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">irrelevant</span> to the girl she is today.<br />What I will say is that on meeting her, Kate was very interested and intrigued to find out what kind of woman her mother was. Open minded to the idea of getting to know her. All she got from her was Valium. The woman is mental...</span></p><p class="postbody"><span style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);"><br /></span></p><p class="postbody"><span style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);"><br /></span></p><p class="postbody"><br /><span style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Joe Gardnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15851754770753809545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335446118707941806.post-74647760161776435932008-10-17T03:39:00.000-07:002008-10-19T16:28:30.900-07:00a girl named KateShe's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">blonde</span>. You can see the dark hair underneath slightly spewing from her roots, never more than half an inch but never the less, she is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">blonde</span>...Looks good for it too. Her name is Caroline Underwood (at this point I should make it clear that only I refer to her as Caroline, possibly her granny would too, but I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">don't</span> know. She introduces herself as Katie or Kate and this is what she is known as, naturally. Embarrassed of her name saying that only women over forty call them selves Caroline, she's been known as Kate since she was 11. I wonder what she'll do when she's forty?) and Kate is fucking bored. Really FUCKING bored.<br />Just turned 19.<br />A <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">petite</span>, young thing. Attractive, but not in the most obvious ways. Little head and big, beautiful eyes. Almost a pointed face altogether, but i may not be describing very well. I've never been too good at this. No. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Definately</span> not that rounded sort of face, you know the kind of face <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">that's</span> full of, quite frankly, admirable adoration for <span style="font-weight: bold;">everything</span> and anything it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">see's</span>. She has a very quite serious look to her!<br />High cheek bones.<br />Pouting lips that quiver and cower away from most. Although her confidence seems high and she comes across as hard, it is not difficult to spot the farce. She is Beautiful. I think i was right to say <span style="font-style: italic;">almost</span> pointed features.<br /> She lives in a city in the U.K. Which one makes no difference as she wont be there for long, she sighs, "there must be more?!" and <span style="font-style: italic;">she</span> is right. There <span style="font-weight: bold;">IS </span>more...Joe Gardnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15851754770753809545noreply@blogger.com1