spooksprings
Active member
- Joined
- Oct 13, 2011
- Messages
- 32
- Reaction score
- 334
The King's Arms, Commercial Road, Pill, Newport
Built in 1830. rebuilt c.1890. Owned by Bass through Mitchells & Butlers Brewery. Closed 1993, Pub History.
Fire Jan 2012, South Wales Argus. Plans to regenerate the area in 2013, South Wales Argus.
The hydraulic lift system is by Archibald Smith & Stevens, Battersea, London was in production by 1888, Graces Guide.
Built with bricks by Starbrick & Tile Co in 1881, based in Llantaram Road, Cwmbran, Bricks Dot Com.Image in 1938,Old Photos.
Having ventured into Newport, passing signs that attempted to warn the wary back, I found myself in a living gutter,
wondering how the slums of Dakar had creped into the UK. The people however are polite and happy, they even
helped me by moving rapidly out of the way when I attempted to take photographs.
I decided to take a jaunt into one of my favourite pubs, The King's Arms.
But hmm, the front door was locked. I ventured round the back, immediately slipped on a bag of discarded
'happy weeds' and was swept down in a tsunami of junk, juff and jetsam, and into the King's Blind-side.
Some others had been swept down here too. This is Quacky Quack the quacking duck.
Including Pudsey Bear, that's how he lost his eye.
Funky Pigeon dot com didn't make it though. I think he's wishing you a belated Merry Xmas.
Someone had started a Tartaric acid crystal farm using old wet wine corks to pass the time. Ingenious!
This baby probably climbed out backwards from its mothers womb when she was washed down here
who was eaten by crows. Hard to not feel responsible for something you could have prevented.
But I was stuck in this festering hole! The only thing keeping the whole building crashing down,
the King's iron ribs.
I had a problem. I have a problem. I am a problem. Problems have answers. The writing was an the wall.
Apparently I lacked pressure, had a leak and was full of yeast. No more Marmite for you young lady!
Searching for an exit, I found a Victorian lift! It hauled me slowly upstairs, groaning and grinding.
We reached the rickety top! But, something didnt feel right...
The bar was empty.
Someone had drank the drink dry.
The cakes had been burnt, including half the building.
There had been violence.
The Xmas ball had not gone well. My world was a shelf edge.
I rushed up the oak stairs to find the King Innkeeper!
...stopping briefly to admire the colourful paintwork...
...and the stained glass.
Then the 'appearing' from the fretwork, The Devil had his claws in this place!
I ran ahead, leaping light-footedly across the floor with no floor.
Through the burnt archway.
I checked in the room which was not a room.
The other room which was more of a room.
Even the round room, but the King Innkeeper was elusive.
Upon reaching a colourful spot I knew I must be close.
The grandhall! The throne room! The courtiers dance was over...
But even through the Highness was not here, I had found his Majesty's Magic Welsh Dragon Egg.
I took it home for shelf keeping. I had tried and tryed.
Now give me that trophy so I can give it to someone who deserves it.
Though we pass through the eyes of destruction, upon the marked cross of the end of aeons,
we know that the mission that was wrought upon the stars in our minds is complete. Probably.
Thanks for watching. I didn't really need you.
James
In association with
Starbricks
& Purple Haze Tiles
Built in 1830. rebuilt c.1890. Owned by Bass through Mitchells & Butlers Brewery. Closed 1993, Pub History.
Fire Jan 2012, South Wales Argus. Plans to regenerate the area in 2013, South Wales Argus.
The hydraulic lift system is by Archibald Smith & Stevens, Battersea, London was in production by 1888, Graces Guide.
Built with bricks by Starbrick & Tile Co in 1881, based in Llantaram Road, Cwmbran, Bricks Dot Com.Image in 1938,Old Photos.
Having ventured into Newport, passing signs that attempted to warn the wary back, I found myself in a living gutter,
wondering how the slums of Dakar had creped into the UK. The people however are polite and happy, they even
helped me by moving rapidly out of the way when I attempted to take photographs.
I decided to take a jaunt into one of my favourite pubs, The King's Arms.
But hmm, the front door was locked. I ventured round the back, immediately slipped on a bag of discarded
'happy weeds' and was swept down in a tsunami of junk, juff and jetsam, and into the King's Blind-side.
Some others had been swept down here too. This is Quacky Quack the quacking duck.
Including Pudsey Bear, that's how he lost his eye.
Funky Pigeon dot com didn't make it though. I think he's wishing you a belated Merry Xmas.
Someone had started a Tartaric acid crystal farm using old wet wine corks to pass the time. Ingenious!
This baby probably climbed out backwards from its mothers womb when she was washed down here
who was eaten by crows. Hard to not feel responsible for something you could have prevented.
But I was stuck in this festering hole! The only thing keeping the whole building crashing down,
the King's iron ribs.
I had a problem. I have a problem. I am a problem. Problems have answers. The writing was an the wall.
Apparently I lacked pressure, had a leak and was full of yeast. No more Marmite for you young lady!
Searching for an exit, I found a Victorian lift! It hauled me slowly upstairs, groaning and grinding.
We reached the rickety top! But, something didnt feel right...
The bar was empty.
Someone had drank the drink dry.
The cakes had been burnt, including half the building.
There had been violence.
The Xmas ball had not gone well. My world was a shelf edge.
I rushed up the oak stairs to find the King Innkeeper!
...stopping briefly to admire the colourful paintwork...
...and the stained glass.
Then the 'appearing' from the fretwork, The Devil had his claws in this place!
I ran ahead, leaping light-footedly across the floor with no floor.
Through the burnt archway.
I checked in the room which was not a room.
The other room which was more of a room.
Even the round room, but the King Innkeeper was elusive.
Upon reaching a colourful spot I knew I must be close.
The grandhall! The throne room! The courtiers dance was over...
But even through the Highness was not here, I had found his Majesty's Magic Welsh Dragon Egg.
I took it home for shelf keeping. I had tried and tryed.
Now give me that trophy so I can give it to someone who deserves it.
Though we pass through the eyes of destruction, upon the marked cross of the end of aeons,
we know that the mission that was wrought upon the stars in our minds is complete. Probably.
Thanks for watching. I didn't really need you.
James
In association with
Starbricks
& Purple Haze Tiles
ps Mitchells & butlers are. still going well i hope i work for um lol
