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in archivio dal 03 ott 2009

Darren Hobson

11 luglio 1972, Preston - Italia
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  • 27 gennaio 2014 alle ore 18:35
    History

    history is a long winding road,
    it stretches far beyond,
    for what the eye can see,
    every stone age wall a treasure,
    every rock formation gold,
    every lost civilization a mystery,
    on this earth that continues to get old,
    every town has a date of birth,
    maybe written in the domesday book,
    lands have been ravaged by invaders,
    and delicate treasures stolen and took,
    living in the squalor of an inner city,
    between 1960s brutalist creations,
    it is hard to see the beauty,
    in other far away civilizations,
    we have to at least read to know,
    before we travel far from home,
    we don’t have to visit the pyramids,
    look for a castle closer to home,
    a strange mound could be a hill,
    or even it could be foundations of an old fort,
    even modern motorways,
    have some history of some sort,
    blessed with living in italy,
    I see different types of history,
    crossing over the Appian way,
    where roman soldiers marched every day,
    I see church towers almost abandoned,
    I see the scars of world war 2,
    I see the disasters of the modern age,
    but what does history mean to you?
    some history is sad news to tell,
    some history is defined by a natural disaster,
    some history is a man-made hell,
    pushed into recession by a mad dictator,
    nature continues to carve her name in history,
    through earthquakes, volcanoes, and unseasonal weather,
    poor souls who have lost their lives,
    whilst the governments could have protected them better,
    history mainly is about gains in humanity,
    but sometimes can be a turning back,
    there is nothing worse than a huge tidal wave,
    to cast your population back fifty years,
    some history now seems impossible,
    the pyramids and the hanging gardens of Babylon,
    we are still searching for Atlantis and Noah’s ark,
    when all traces to the goal are long gone,
    so no matter who you are,
    and even if you live on the moon,
    embrace what history has left for us,
    taste it slowly with your inquisitive spoon.

     
  • 03 ottobre 2009
    Missed Time

    My mood is grey,
    And the day is too,
    I feel so far,
    Away from you.

    It has only been twelve hours,
    Since you gave me the last kiss,
    I still feel your eyes on me,
    But it is the whole person that I miss.

    I do not want to go to sleep,
    Without you kissing me goodnight,
    And I don’t want to wake up alone,
    And face a day without you near.

    It’s only a temporary relapse,
    And I will see you again in a few days,
    But I long for you to be beside me,
    I want you near always.

    Is that a childish way to think?
    Is that the wrong thing to say?
    Are my feelings a little exaggerated?
    When we have only been apart a day.

    Should I keep these words inside?
    And not let them face the light of day,
    Should I keep my hunger hidden?
    Should I keep my lust at bay?

    I may not be a great in some things,
    I am sorry if I do fall short,
    But I miss you even more,
    In your web I am totally caught.

    Elisa do you think the same,
    Or have I gone a bit too far?
    Is this another of my many defects?
    Am I the whiskey in your jar?

    I miss you more and more,
    It sounds a bit soft maybe,
    I feel depressed and a little sore,
    But when you are near I am happy.
    So tomorrow will I see you again?
    If not I am sure it will be the day after,
    The grey will turn to sunny skies,
    And my tears will turn to laughter.

     
  • 03 ottobre 2009
    Conquested the conquester.

    I cannot conquest the world until I conquest myself,
    So far it has been a 37 year war,
    I have put minimum efforts to soldier the ground,
    Just like a U.N. peace keeping force,
    When a area of myself is consider won,
    I battle breaks out on the other side,
    With the minimum resources that I have to fight,
    I am neither here nor there or anywhere.
    Words of inspiration ring through me,
    Maybe it’s my favourite Wildhearts song,
    Sometimes I am just inspired by my Elizabeth,
    I person who certainly makes me belong.


    She makes me want to conquest the world,
    But there are not instructions to achieve this deed,
    I have to improvise and do some D.I.Y.,
    And with her wisdom I hope I can succeed.
    From bites and nitbits of culture differences,
    And with her patience which is second to none,
    She has the courage to stand up to me
    Something I have craved for all along.
    With a head strong lass and a heartless man,
    Can I really conquest the world?
    With a million and one problems to crack,
    Can this relationship really hold?


    My questions my thoughts could break us apart,
    My negative energy is so abundant,
    But this lass is a head strong inspiration,
    It would take Armageddon to make this love redundant.
    So with positive energy flowing from this Calabrian lass,
    It is down to me to make the motors turn.
    Got to get my soldiers on the ground
    And conquest the conquested conquester.

     
  • So are you happy with what you’ve got,
    Or do you aspire for something greater,
    Or you always devising new plans of attack,
    From the left, from the right, below or above?

     

    Does it have to be faster?
    Or slower and more in control,
    Does it have to be clearer?
    A point underlined, well defined, highlighted, and spotlighted
    Bold text, bigger text, placed in red, flashing lights in neon blue??

     

    Or do you let things go by and maybe you will change the world tomorrow,
    Until then, the worlds not doing so bad with out your interference,
    Surely it can get by with no help from you,
    Today you have betting things to do…

     

    They may amount to nothing, but nothing doesn’t get done on its own
    They are too many “want to be” saints trying to heal the sick,
    While creaming off the giver, and pissing on the faith,
    Of the poor, of the needy and the sick and the not so lucky.

     

    So now are you happy with what they have got?
    When you have got so much more?
    So much greed can you really now afford?
    What some more? There is an abundant supply in the western world,
    Were greed outstrips food a million to one,
    Another famine, another war, look  it’s on the 24 hour news channel,
    Write you views, by email, on your high tech lap top,
    That could feed a village in the middle of the Sudan,
    But you could not resist the “buy now pay later”,
    And you was not happy with the computer than you had,
    It was two years old and Gates had renewed all the IT,
    For a faster download and securer email, which is all bullshit,
    Because as the years go by, the internet is more open to attack,
    Just like more people are dying in Iraq,
    Maybe Afghanistan, where the West want to preach their culture
    On their eastern believes, so its war, but what for?

     

    So now are you happy with what the world has got?
    From the greed in the west to the war and hunger on the right,
    But this does count for shit when it’s Saturday night,
    When you can drink your weekly earnings in a four hour spell,
    Puking up in the high street and generally raising hell,
    Oh want rebels you are, in this world you will go far,
    Just as long as there is the current three minute hit single,
    Throbbing on your body as you’re consuming chemical additives
    Which is seen as cool, and sweating, and vomiting, and fighting
    All become a new pass time which becomes a new craze.
    Oh won’t mummy be pleased with her bright young daughter,
    Who drank half the Thames and laid half of Wembley.
    What fun, to be kid, today. Let’s go out to play.

     

    So you are really happy with the world today?
    Half the world is drunk or drugged,
    Not that I am saying that I am any better,
    And half the world is below the poverty line,
    But we all say “I am happy with this life of mine”
    But are we really? Is there no guilt? No fear?
    Could we not share? Show we care? Eradicate our greed?
    Do we have to be religious just to give a shit?
    Or could we help our neighbour without reciting the bible?
    Could we divide our bread without thinking of the last supper?
    Can we be free, from all that was, that should not be?

     

    Or are you happy with what you saw on the news channel.
    Did you swallow the dose in one gulp or just had a nibble,
    Did you come back for afters, or still glued to the box?
    You want some more, you TV whore?
    Are you happy now with what you got.

     
  • 03 ottobre 2009
    Diversion

    Once upon a time, I must have started on the right road,
    As all travelers do, with a map, with a tom tom tom
    Or any other device that will lead you up the alley,
    But somewhere along the crooked line,
    I must have made a lengthy diversion,
    Maybe when I was not looking,
    Or when I was distracted, or maybe, you know,
    When I was looking the wrong way up and down and all around,

     

    But now I am here, I have to make the best of a crazy situation,
    If you joined the dots to see, where I have been,
    The numbers are out of sequence and my footprints not seen,
    And now I am here, can I relax? Can I wait awhile?
    Before this fucking roller coaster shunts up the next hill.

     

    The pleasure, the pain, the chase, the thrill,
    Enough white knuckle rides to make you ill,
    And when I am up, I could be down,
    And when I am happy, I wear a frown,
    I am not very understandable, I am not quite right,
    I could be happy at work and pissed off on a Saturday night.

     

    But that is my diversion and I have not being following the signs,
    I do not follow the orthodox route .I do not by-pass the trouble,
    When I see a pile up, I push down the accelerator,
    I do not go for single shots I always take the double.

     

    And now I am here, is this my true destination,
    My colours are a bit faded and my focus out of tune,
    The numbers on my birthday cards are getting so much high,
    And now I have arrived, so where is the welcome party?
    Can I have a toast please before I get too much over the hill.