poems because all else has failed

and here it is
the last goodbye
as i wave away my heart
my hope walks away
but the memories stay
bitter sweet with longing
and cutting like knives
i'll cry no more tears
and wish you well
as emptiness crush's my soul
i'll always wish
i was more than this
as i say the last goodbye

a full on pants rant of epic proportions

so tonight some of us were worried about a friend of ours who hadn't been heard of for a while and we were wondering where he was. so we ask about and then it transpires that we have all been warned off "Bothering "him by someone that none of us know. this has ruffled a few feathers let me tell you.
certain things you need to know dear idiot.
number one who the hell gives you the right to dictate who we can or can't ask about?
i for one hold all my twitter friends in the highest of regard and would worry about any of them if i hadn't heard from them.when i wasn't on there for a while it was a lovely feeling to know that people had actually missed and worried about me.
he is our friend as well as yours and you certainly do not have a monopoly on his time none of us do. all we want to know is that he is safe and well. not because we are a bunch of fucking ambulance chasers waiting for the next car crash of events but because we care .
so don't you dare tell us who we can and can not ask about. don't you dare tell us people that i doubt you even follow to keep our noses out of his business and don't you dare ever try and tell us who we can or can't worry about or be concerned about.
who the fucking hell gave you the right to be that damn rude to people you don't even know. how dare you you bloody ignorant excuse of a human being.
no one upsets my friends and yes i class each and everyone of the people on there that i have the privilege to know and talk to as a friend. and you madam have now pissed off a whole lot of people x
and no damn one tells me or anyone who we can't be concerned about or care about.
so try and engage your brain next time before you tweet.
you know who you are. we know who you are and i for one really don't like your holier than fucking thou attitude.
so next time love sit on your damn hands .

the pants have spoken.

new poem

these are the hours
these lonely times
that haunt my soul
and your not there

these are the hours
that tears will fall
and hearts will ache
and your not there

yours was the chest
where i lay my head
the heartbeat that sang me to sleep
your lips were the lips
that i kissed goodnight

your smile was the smile
that sang to my soul
your arms were mine to hold

all of these things
now no longer mine
as the hours crawl by
and i wipe my tears
and ache
and your not here

pants poems that are actually quite good

haven't done one in a while so i thought i would share a little poem with you. enjoy.


i am locked away
failure eats at my soul
killing me inside
my life takes flight
eyes blank and weary
stained with disappointment
watch it flee
a black hole inside
opens like a lovers embrace
holding my soul
as failure fangs bared
feeds with bloody mouthfuls

for these are the pants

i sometimes wish that i was someone else but i'm not. i am me not always happy but always thinking. i dream but don't exist . i have dreams that don't come true . sometimes the world scares me because i don't understand what it wants me to do. but i try. i feel too much or not at all. there are times when i look in a mirror and i wonder who is staring back. there are times when i don't know myself, those times when you look into a mirror and all you see is a broken person drowning in their own pain. these are the times that haunt my soul. the times when the black dog took hold and tried to drown me. the times when i almost self destructed but managed to hold on. i'm still here.
for these are the pants that prevail. these are the pants that fight to retain their sanity when all around them expect them to fail. and i fight every day to know who i am and what i have become. i'm still growing and still learning and still fighting.
for these are the pants that are made for better times and greater things. don't judge these pants . they are not to be pitied or judged by anyone but the wearer of this soul. they have seen great things. they have loved with intense passion and have lost everything in the process. they have fought and survived and will continue to do so.
for these are the pants that maketh the woman who wears them. and she wears them with pride.
until next time.

a comp rant pissed off pants

how much do i hate computers right now? oh too much to mention but i will . they are not based on logic at all not pants logic anyway . they don't do what they should when you want them to. they have been created by one sad little man in a cell some where who hates people. everytime you think you have sussed them then this little man rubs his hands together and throws up something that you don't know can't understand and then your back to square one again.there are only so many times you can reset something only to have the same bloody problem. before you know it your head is hitting the desk over and over to get rid of the feeling of failure that sweeps your body. you mutter under your breath try hitting the keys that you should and you wait and hope and da da daaaaaaa nothing big fat nothing.
if i ever met the idiot who invented such stupid damn things that are supposed to be invented to enrich our lives i would drown him in paper and pens . now paper and pens i understand they have a use they are logical.. control alt delete isn't fucking logical an escape key isn't fucking logical. if an escape hey was logical it would then ask you where you wanted to damn well go. and i would answer anywhere that doesn't have a fucking computer that doesn't work when you want it to.
so darling computers next time i try and do something on here please please please actually work the way you should. do not throw up barriers that i don't understand or ask me questions that i don't have the answers to. because if next time that happens i will be looking in the yellow pages for a window repair person and you my dear computer will be lying in pieces on the driveway.
pants out.

weekend ( pants in love )

so friday night after a full three days deminging the house a row with the mad cat woman about the attitude with dinner done and still no mister a i was just about ready to carve off his bollocks and make myself new earings. and then there he was. stepping out of the car his two eldest daughters in tow and somehow nothing mattered. he was here a vision of lovelyness and i looked like a train wreck in tracksuit bottoms with strangly coloured hair. i hadn't seen the girls in over a year and they hadn't changed just got bigger . it had crossed my mind that because he had them to think about that we wouldn't be as close but it didn't matter.Funny how a hug a gentle hug because numpty mister a had bruised his ribs falling down a wet hill makes everything seem alright. or maybe i'm easily pleased. sleeping arrangements were discussed and sorted only because i'm clever and had thought of every angle. leave it to a bloke and you'd end up sleeping in the bath .
dinner was eaten around the kitchen table something never done in this house. mister a and i sat next to each other arms touching the whole time while everyone talked and joked and laughed. domestic bliss reigned in pants palace that night . that and alot of yo yoing. seems that everyone had a yo yo apart from yours truely . fluffy had to stand on a seat to get his to work because he is small. the others well it's a wonder i have any plates ect left. two over active teenage girls a fluffy nine yr old and mister a all with yo yo's in my kitchen the damn things flying everywhere. it was one of those times when beruit would have been quieter to be only because two of the damn things had lights and sounded like aircraft coming into land. finally at midnight kids were upstairs and we or rather he had the task of blowing up blow up bed with loud pump. thank god the kitchen still has it's door .
anyway at the risk of sounding boring we spent the rest of the night together talking laughing just us in our own little bubble.we tried watching a film but the same thing happened as it always does we saw the begining credits and the end credits the film got completely missed.
and that was the way it was the whole of the time he was here. the daytime we did things with the kids shopping went to see a film one night and bowling the next. when the kids were asleep it was just us. we would walk around town hand in hand, cuddle as we made tea washed up shouted at the kids, he fed me popcorn in the cinema and held me all night .
thanks to mister a my washing machine doesn't smell quite so bad because he took it apart and cleaned the pipes and the filter. my radiators have been sorted so they don't talk when you turn the heating on and my carpet in the front room has been put back together again.
thanks to mister a my smile is a little wider my heart is a little fuller than it as before and for the past three days and nights i have belonged somewhere to someone. someone who i can laugh with take the piss out of and believe me i did. someone who holds me as i make coffee who cooks with me and washes up. someone who knows me and who tells me that i am like his best friend but with benefits because his best mate is a bloke. and someone who although he doesnt say it because right now he can't misses me and cares about me maybe not in the way i do but i know that he does and that right now is good enough for me.
so to who ever is reading this and thinking what a load of old bollocks . no it's not bollocks it's my life and i will live it every treasured moment.
until next time the pants have left the building.

the names have been changed to protect the idiots

okay so today i thought i would give you all a run down of the names i use for the different people to feature in pants world. this is to help you dear readers of my blogs and my tweets so you know who everyone is even if they don't know themselves mwahahaha.
 the main players.

adulf - as you can guess he is an ex of mine not the brightest spark of the bunch but a source of amusement.
fluffy - son of adulf . blonde and fluffy and nine so still in training.
the attitude - teenage daughter need i say more ?
the stepford girlfriend - she cooks she cleans she sows she is everything i'm not apparently.

mister a - a very special man most of the poetry is about him. most of the angry rants are to.

 now for some people you may not have heard of yet but i'm sure they will feature at some point.

the mad cat woman of Uxbridge - or mcwou for short well with only 140 letters what can you do? my mother
                                                     a woman whose glass is always half full and who has cats lots of cats

corporate fat bloke  - or cfb for short my younger sucessful brother bit of a bell end but what can you do
H                            - wife of corporate fat bloke
stinkpants                - my five year old neice
fat boy                     - my little nephew he's nearly two

smeggy                     - my little sister thinner prettier (bitch )


so not the most amusing of blogs but now at least you know who i am talking about when i tweet . some of them know their nicknames others don't i'll let you guess which ones do .
until next time when hopefully i'll have something more amusing to blog about these pants are out of here

monday pants or should that be monday is pants?

so a day that started off in a bad mood has surprisingly so far been not so pants . After i finally shifted from the desk chair that seems to be surgically attached to my rear end and crawled up the stairs muttering about how i had wasted the whole damn morning sleeping, i attempted to get away with not having to wash my hair . alas it was not to be . i tried wetting it down as it looked like i had slept with my finger in a socket and then brushing it but the ending result looked like i had been raped by a badger not the look i was going for . so the shower went on and i burnt part of the skin from my scalp (wake up call ). yes my shower either freezes or burns there is no happy medium .
most of my clothes are either in the washing pile or the ironing pile so i look like a hobo today . and i'm suffering from piles, piles of washing and ironing sigh .so washing went on five minutes go past and i thjink that maybe it's not going to smell that bad and i can actually wash up before the first spin cycle. wrong so wrong. plug goes into the sink water starts running and then the spin cycle hits. i'm nearly blown off my feet by the wall of smell and retreat to the garden. swiftly followed by the fluffy one who is trying not to vomit by this point. you have to love a washing machine that can clear a building with one vengeful spin.
anyway finally smell clears the air returns to its normal colour and i am able to get washing up done. fluffy is in tidy mode only because i have told him that he can't watch summer slam before his half of our room is tidy the frontroom is clear and his homework is done. am i mean? maybe . did it work? oh yes .
so pants palace is calm and kind of tidy. i am sitting here with a dictionary on my lap checking spellings as i blog.
so my parting word for today is "wankel " dont ask me why but i came across it in this dictionary on my lap as i was looking for something else. funny how words with wank in them jump out at you or is it just me. probably just me then.
so until the next instalment of the life of pants these pants are out of action . enjoy.

sunday at pants manor

so here we are again me myself my computer the one thing i have a love hate relationship with that actually doesnt argue back . fluffy has left with adulf and will be back later strangely enough adulf was late to get him actually not strange at all seeing as adulf is an illiterate tossbag with no sense of time . he is supposed to be helping fluffy with his school project on penguins today . all he has to do is turn on a computer type in the word penguins and print out a load of different pictures. now for any normal person that would be simple but we are talking about adulf the man who can turn the simplest task into a rock opera of disaster and who tells me that he has taped programes on penguins for the fluffy one to watch . hello how the merry hell is that going to help him ? we need evidence that he has done a project and as we all know a project is a file full of information a contents page pictures and the written word its not sitting on your arse stuffing sweets and watching the telly. its going to be a long day i can feel it .
so i have a few hours to myself. now what to do .
i could write a few sonnets split an atom or two cure a few ills. i could but i wont.
instead i am taking part in a social experiment to see how much napalm it takes to clean three days old bean juice out of a saucepan. so far an hour of soaking in boiling water has produced nothing. i have to at some point unpack the fluffy ones suitcase. i also need to wash some clothes mainly because my wardrobe has more empty hangers in it than full ones . so i will be spending two hours with the windows open and a gas mask on while the air that i breath turns brown.
today i fear will not be a good day at pants palace. there is a strange smell coming from my kitchen it smells like buring rubber. have i left my pvc catsuit too near to something hot again ? i must go and investigate the source of that smell and then eat my body weight in monster munch .
so until next time dear readers the pants have left the building.

welcome to pantsville

well its quarter to two in the morning while most sensible people are sleeping i seem to be here . all is quiet in pants palace apart from the stop start tap of the keyboard the hum of the freezer and the flatulent creaking of my desk chair . yes if you have read mt tweets in the past you may have worked out that most things in this house dont work myself included, and the ones that do are flawed in some way. for example the flatulent washing machine that i so lovingly refer to, the fridge that freezes everything if you turn the dial above three the boy toy of a television that tends to switch itself off usually half way through something i want to watch..
even the upstairs toilet although since the attitude moved in with my mother there have been no what we term three day eventers to contend with.nothing in the house matches anything else it's either been begged borrowed or more likely stolen ( well not really just feels like it ) . i seem to hang on to objects longer than i hang on to the people who brought them into the house .
but those folks are all set for another day and another blog . right now i'm just setting the scene and hoping that it amuses . ive been told tonight that my tweets are funny. i dont really understand how or why but hey im not about to argue . i'm just me life kicked me in the balls so i cut them off and decided to wear them as ear rings . life wasnt happy at that apparently life is a midget and cant kick that far .
i suppose you have to have a sense of humour if you sleep in the same room as a small fluffy nine yr old who talks in his sleep. many nights i have been woken up by the shout of
"I want cheese!"
"It's my turn down the slide"
or my personal favorite
"Thats a big fart"
yes i know you got to love a mincing nine yr old who says little gems like that havent you ? looks around expectantly.
i have just realised that most of this has been loosely based on bodily functions . well if all else fails a fart joke usually wins most people around doesnt it . and if it does fail then fuck it i'll go back to being poetic either way the spelling is going to be questionable.
so this is me and this is pantsville a small palace in the arse end of no where coated with dust not particulary tidy but its mine and its home. its where i dream of other things and other places other lives while dragging a little humour out of my own.
so until next time ladies and gentlemen the pants have left the building

cant explain this one its the reason why i cant walk away

how to explain without turning to mush. well lets just say that sometimes someone enters your life turns it on its head and leaves their imprint on your soul. and i miss him every waking moment .

i was lost and broken
surrounded by my past
wounded by empty promises
living in the shadows of my shattered heart
then you found me
you made me safe once more
you mended my heart
with soft caresses
now it beats with yours
your hand held mine
and i belonged again
you rescued my soul from darkness
now i can see the sun
you ignited a flame inside me
now i burn for you
you showed me a love
i only ever dreamt
you chased away my past
now you are my future
thank you for saving me

think 2004 wasnt a good year for the pants

okay okay i know depressing poetry isnt everyones cup of tea but if you feel it then you write it and i did. this was the one i was looking for before i found the other one and blogged that . so this is how i feel today normal on the outside cloaked in misery on the inside.

look beyond the smiles
the laughter
what do you see
behind the happy facade
do you see a heart thats breaking
do you see a soul that bleeds
do you see the sorrow in my eyes
playing out the lost memories
like photographs
can you see the tear
falling down my cheek
can you imagine
my cries of pain
the madness lurking
within my soul
stabbing like shards of broken glass
when i laugh out loud
can you hear
the inner screams of loss
that come from deep within
or do you see only the outside
not beneath the skin

its not a good day today so more poems i think

written in 2004 but describes how i feel today .

take out your tongue
so i no longer scream your name
rip out my eyes
so i no longer see you leave
crush my heart
so it no longer beats with yours
keep my soul with you
as you walk away
leave me empty
bleeding
souless
crying bloody tears
lost without you
then close the door as you leave

not easy reading

hard to explain this next one . lets just say that sometimes life isnt the nicest place to be and leave it at that for now .

loneliness my friend
my festering cancer
my blackness
my own personal death
my bitter tormentor
my existence
my keeper
my prison

there is no white knight to save me now
too tired to save myself
from lingering death
eyes too dried to cry
a heart too weakened to care
a soul too wasted to survive
trapped and tortured
chained and bleeding
a slow suffercating death
with no end

yes more poems what i write

because my little brain only works on at least three cups of strong tea and i have only had two so far ,but wanted to do something to my little bloggy thing today before i forgot how i thought i would do some more poems . not because im showing off but just so you have an idea of what goes on inside my head on the occasion that something hits me . enjoy .

whose going to hold you
when the lights go out
whose going to wipe away your tears
whose going to hold you
when the lights go out
whose going to chase away your fears

whose going to love you
when the lights go out
who will you reach for in the cold
whose lips will you kiss
when the lights go out
who are you going to give your soul

i will hold you
when the lights go out
i will wipe away those tears
i will love you
when the lights go out
i will chase away your fears
kiss me as the lights go out
give your soul to me
for in the darkness and the cold
i will set your free

a little light poetry just because i can

thought i'd get beyond the swearing and the ranting and show you what i can actually do. so enjoy the fruits of pants labour .


i am a rock in the ocean
buffeted by the sea
i am a leaf
torn away from its branch
tossed in the wind
i am the memory 
now forgotten
i am the tear
that fell unchecked down your cheek
i am the hurt
that you hide inside yourself
i am the scream 
that is never heard
i am the soul 
lost forever
i am the past
the dimming photograph in your mind
i am nothing
but a shadow on your heart


enjoy this tiny part of my soul
ladies and gentlemen the pants have again left the building

holy fucking shit what an effort

well here it is the first of hopefully many pants rants as they will now be known. i am a self confessed techno stresshead, anything even vaguely computer leaves me in a cold sweat . this damn thing took three attempts now most of my furniture has foot prints on it bit i an here thanks in the most part by a very patient lady who is far brainier than i am.. people say that these things are idiot proof but are they pants proof ? that is the question and most of the time the answer is no they arent. they may be logical but i dont use that kind of logic if it doesnt make sense in my little brain its obviously broken or flawed in some way . or maybe i am the one that is broken and flawed ? mmmm probably .so now i have finally got here kicking screaming and protesting the whole time about how nothing is ever simple (well it isnt) i have suddenly realised that spending the whole day on the sofa snoring gives me nothing to say . shit i really am a sad boring hermit ( with great hair it has to be said ) who thinks too much day dreams in abundance and has made procrastination an art form. so with that i will go back shuffle my bum into my desk chair and see what hits me or not . untill next time the pants have left the building