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reclaire the streets: Kill Your Babies

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Friday, July 15, 2005. Language is a cracked kettle on which we beat out tunes for bears to dance to, when all the time we long to move the stars to pity. - Gustave Flaubert). And I can rhyme. But I write in my own way. And I'll listen when your certain. What it is you want to say. Give me an image that brings truth crawling in from all corners. Give me a slice of your guts teased into a song. And leave that one line. That pulsates with meaning. That would move the stars to pity. A bit of an intro.

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reclaire the streets: And now a word from our sponsors...

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Thursday, August 04, 2005. And now a word from our sponsors. This poem was written for the Art not Oil. Exhibition, a project put together by London R. For some reason I find it work. S best in performance with a really nasty American accent. This poem is sponsored by BP. The company is delighted to be collaborating on this project,. Continuing its commitment to education and the arts,. As part of its corporate social responsibility programme. This poem is sponsored by BP. This poem is sponsored by BP.

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reclaire the streets: Steal This Poem

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Friday, July 15, 2005. This poem is copy left. You're free to distribute it and diffuse it,. Re-write it and abuse it,. For your own ends,. And with your own ending. This is an open source poem. Entering the public domain. Here's the source code,. Add a little salt and pepper if you like,. Share it out amongst your friends. Because I didn't write this poem,. I moulded it,. Picked the lines out of a skip as I was walking on over here. Took used up fragments of leftover ideas,. And put them to use. So stea...

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reclaire the streets: Between the Lines

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Saturday, July 16, 2005. My lover is a poet. The verses written on her body tell a story that I am not close enough to understand. I read with my fingers. As the blind do. Studying the scratched runes that bring her pain into relief. She is a magpie. Drawn to shiny things. The flash of a blade. And her reflection in it. She parts the skin to form lips. From which she draws. Red ink flows down the sink to a cold clatter of steel against enamel. I draw flowers and faces on her plasters. A bit of an intro.

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reclaire the streets: Make Poetry History

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Friday, July 15, 2005. I wanna make poverty history. But I wanna expose the hypocrisy. Of the G8 wanting to give more aid. And lock it into unfair trade. No more debts to be repaid. But where's the trade of being made? I wanna make poverty history. Erase it from the dictionary. Its the word of a missionary. Change barbarity to christianity. I wanna make poverty history. Erase it from the dictionary. Find a phrase that better says. That poverty is political. I wanna make injustice history. And M16s, AK47s...

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reclaire the streets: Amy and Mark's Wedding Poem

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Friday, July 15, 2005. Amy and Mark's Wedding Poem. Her love for Mark. Because were you aware ladies and gentlemen. That my sister fell in love. When a hockey ball. Fell on her from above. So can we really trust her judgement? Can we genuinely be sure. That she had all her wits about her. When her head was so sore? And did Mark seek to capitalise. On her vulnerable mental state? Did he seize this opportunity. To ask her for a date? Now I'm not saying Mark took advantage. I'm not saying that at all. Below...

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reclaire the streets: Break up poem

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Friday, July 15, 2005. Last night waiting for you I had a brief but intense relationship with a cat. We indulged all the games of lovers. Casual flirtation, playing hard to get, making concessions and taking chances,. And it struck me that cats would make excellent lovers. Because their bodies tell me everything that I need to know about giving pleasure. You wrote a poem across my body while I slept. And in the morning I awoke with your words. Seeping into my skin. Snaking around my thighs. Both humourou...

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reclaire the streets: Why do I still do this every day?

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Tuesday, July 19, 2005. Why do I still do this every day? Beautiful postcard of my poem and the original piece of graffiti. i'd love to get some of these printed up. Anyone got any spare cash? For about a tenner you can get 100 or so printed off as digital photos. the same price will also get you about 30 postcards. I reckon you should definitely do it. The postcard is now being printed by gathered images - and they're paying me! I wonder if anyone will by them. It's a gorgeous postcard btw,. I think is ...

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reclaire the streets: Seahorse

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Friday, July 15, 2005. We sat alone in the clinic, you and I,. And they tortured us with endless Shania Twain. The gave me a nightie. And a sanitary towel. And left me in a room full of other girls. With the same tearless expression on their faces. I was the last to be wheeled out. And I never said goodbye to you. As the needle went in. I woke and you were gone. I wanted to see you. I didn't know how big you were. I imagined you pickled in a jar. Curved and creamy white,. With tiny grasping hands.

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reclaire the streets: True Love Waits

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Friday, July 15, 2005. Here's a creed for the new generation. A call to the fucked up youth of today. Its the big new thing. The hot new trend is. Yes abstinence makes the heart grow fonder. Abstinence makes the world go around. An abstention a day, keeps the doctor away. All you need is. abstinence! So keep your legs crossed. An your pants locked. Keep his hands off,. An then run down the aisle before you're old enough. To drink champagne on your wedding night. Never notice that these. To tell them about.