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I was wondering, and this in itself can be considered somewhat narcissistic, if not jokingly so, in an oft self deprecating, partially drunken fashion. But how, and yes I mean this, how do I convince someone that listening to Tom Waits is a good idea? Now the person in question is a good friend...

I was just wondering as to whether or not my fellow interference goers, would describe themselves as risk takers or chance averters. As recently at least, I have found myself taking more chances, especially in regards to, well, you know. :sexywink: Either way, it’s always of interest.

There were two of them, and only three of them appeared as pictured: I couldn’t take it.

Ingmar Bergman, one of the most innovative, enigmatic, and undeniably influential filmmakers of all time, died peacefully this morning, leaving us (his audience) with an unparalleled back catalogue of superlative quality, that to this day, inspires and arouses the filmic passions of even the...

If I ever lose myself… I’ll require your gentle guidance. smitten with raincoats low and behold the hypothetical child… smitten with raincoats and anorexic amber… silently imbued with a spiritual vocation; the pension led phonographs of silver split denial… passively fathered by...

Ignore the pettiness if you can: If I was to be honest with myself, and I’m rarely honest with others, I would have to admit to living my life through a multitude of foetal facades (even within trivial or synthetic circumstances, such as an internet forum), each tailor made for a painfully...

Let the children boogie... The whistling wire held the scene, headlong in wisdom and ulterior motives, glistening midst the mid morning dew. A pariah was needed, a messianic fraud, a masochistic minister draped solemnly in monastic garbs, eloquent in verse and fluent in scripture. The...

Lots of love and similarly themed emotions from your prodigal brother… :wink: Happy Birthday!

What constitutes a shoe? What constitutes a shoe? The leather bound tongues of inglorious pomp, ambling midst the glades… pugilistic caffeine panders solely to the soul, ergonomically agile, bar the finest detail… eye-lashed straps entrenched in the name, toiling syllabic misnomers...

…all that had lay, laid placidly bestirred, for all that had laid, in laying had remained… Low tic abreast reams award, fathom there’s a pound, yet ne’er untoward, relativity of fate, the fate of relativity; as any other, as any bother… leans spuriouslyinclined, rear to thatch...

Cradle the ashen hour; cast aside the blatant lullabies, so often sought without cause, so often pardoned without grace. Eternally demure, the passively barbed cuticles of harpy lit notation sprawled, nay strewn, across the ochre ash haven of rambunctious repute; attentive to reason...

Windowsill Windowsill pardons- Slit shard acrid bay, abhorring reason- Neathe’ mire middling Fray… Pittance purveyors- Hark yarn tethered gout… Purling midst ever- Nier passé-pout Doubt… Yield son contraction- Dour frail tore regret… Woken bout afters, Vase Sundry intent. Retinal...

If you enjoy incessant punnery, literary references and anagrams, this piece is for you. If not, I apologise. …all that had lay, laid placidly bestirred, for all that had laid, in laying had remained… Low tic abreast reams award, fathom there’s a pound, yet ne’er untoward, relativity of...

I oft wonder to myself, as to whether or not, there happens to be a publisher in this world, who would actually see fit to publish my work. One can dream. Archival Heathers: An Experiment On My Behalf Archaic windows punished by forlorn lighting; knitting amidst the saddle backed hues of...

Archaic windows punished by forlorn lighting; knitting amidst the saddle backed hues of further disdain; cradling humanity. Four men squat round an ingrate table; embittered yet distinguished; as slight calls and caterwauls grace the cavernous boudoirs of eternal containment. Sundry playing...

They say that dancing increases life expectancy, they say that dancing is the rhythmic precursor to sexual intercourse; yet they never say that dancing can cause coronary malfunctions or indeed spawn impotent lies. Who are they and why do they say this? I know who they are.

Fairly self explanatory title: To start off the proceedings I would have to say that my favourite instrumental ever is: Stevie Ray Vaughan; Little Wing

There was an air of great simplicity about the man; his squalid demeanour, his irascible wit; that one was oft fooled into thinking that such charm brought with it great fortune, unfortunately though this was never the case. For Stephen as he was known was a beggar of sorts; a man who despite...

The knight of all countenance returns albeit just for a while. It was a mercilessly humid night, the air dense yet sufficiently apologetic wafted in through Faustian vents, dispelling even the most fragrant of taciturn notions in the process. Bodies passively languished amidst the apparent...

Well it’s a simple question although I doubt it’ll get much response here. So without further ado: BB King Robert Johnson Howlin’ Wolf Son House Stevie Ray Vaughn Share your favourites. :wink:

(Mahogany misogyny) Strident choral passages Caress curvaceous odes, As scenic ciphers Silence awe, Scarlet imprecision.

I needed to have one last dig against, well everyone………… Later............ Tumultuous asphalt juntas Cigarettes discarded, Symbolic masculinity misconstrued Signing fuck with a leper’s flair, Five fingers forced down a willing throat Mouthing off some stylised blasphemy, “Anyone can be...

:drool:

Errant hearts and romantic love Contrived with gracious sigh, Commercialist appeasement Brought forth to testify, In the name of disparate despair Redrawn with laboured class, Sought out by those delinquent souls Whose hearts have yet to pass, Throughout a tangent, sombre sight Blooded...