…
r umble in the background
h uddled like clucking hens
u nderneath your sound waves
b labbering old cobwebs
a niseed singsong
r ambunctious redshanks
b adgers ate your birthday cake
…
contemporary poetry
acrostic for twats
…
t eriffic
w onderful
a mazing
t remendous
s uperb
…
illegible & others too
…
illegible, the message read
‘yer dinner’s in the potting shed’
impossible, the painter cried
to catch the scale of heaven’s wide
impeccable, the chicken clucked
a west wind blew, yer sister sucked
illusory, the curate claimed
& all the bots online were blamed
a hedgerow poet scribbled once
the abrahamic god’s a nonce
& other gods live in this green
the middle east is not my scene
industrious, the playwright minced
the breakfast plates are washed & rinsed
intentional, the milkman knew
a flying pig would scale the blue
…
a load of old pants
…
champagne socialists
shop in karl marx & spencers
for their underwear
…
the purple hair brigade
…
who’s afraid
of the purple hair brigade?
nose pierced like
bullocks at the market?
who’s afraid
of the purple hair brigade
branded with tattoos
a rainbow coloured heart
who’s afraid
of the purple hair brigade?
snorting with intent
like a badger in the fog
who’s afraid
of the purple hair brigade?
beastly be thy fate
fodder of ‘be kind’
we must laugh back
at the madness of collective
‘ism & ides
of ‘eology & march
& rock their paddleboat
they come for your jokes
offence is only ever
taken with both hands – oh …
who’s afraid
of the purple hair brigade?
stand or leapfrog
over their overtures
who’s afraid
of the purple hair brigade?
sod their bollox
& current thing death cults
…
erm part 37543.2
…
scatter graph that
the jackdaws laughing
a rearranged face
the clock in the hall
away with the fairly
maybe a missive?
if little owls screech
in a pitch blett coppice
shrouded in cloud
when now becomes then &
unfinished jigsaws
…
a day in the life of a florist
…
the sun rose like a tudor
another daisy begineth
the dandelions roar
you buttercup believe it
we tulip sync along
to the sound of cowslips mooing
as the bluebells knell
& foxgloves trot
so please forget me not
until the evening primrose
& then we all crocus
…
instead – an acrostic
…
i roned shirts rusted
n obody came in droves
s he stopped selling seashells
t he dodos re-emerged
e veryone ate after eights
a round about teatime
d awn broke when the evening fell
…
peckish
…
broken biscuit spring
sings in yon unopened tin
( best before mayday )
…
another winterish acrostic
…
w elly weather then
westerly downfalls
i t’s muddy underfoot as
invaders cross the sea
n ot a bee bumbles
no rose other than
t he hellebore blooms
twilights haunt too soon
e verything is cobwebs
eggs in a casket
i dle as the catkins purr
in between warm fronts
s outh east sunrises
snoring dormice
h urry old codger
home before the puddles freeze
…
resarf poetry 