g-spots

~

g-spots ( stops-g )

…

grey gazelles grazing

gethsemane’s golden grasses

…

also known as

~

also known as ( sa nwonk osla )

…

the cabbage on a mission

the barking bard of derbyshire

the anti-n.p.c

the owl that wakes at dawn

the lark within the dark

the swordsman with a poundland pen

the fleshling in the realm of bots

the storm without a cup

the tread of pencil lead

the here in distant disappear

a bat amongst the pigeons

a stoat afloat in weasel land

the plod of odder socks

he who must not be name dropped

trad-anon’s son

the weirdo with a thousand faces

…

instrumental tracks

~

instrumental tracks ( skcart latnemurtsni )

…

keys as tambourines
percussion in a pocket
feet keep time
with the swirling chirps of birds

hark, a lark above
warbles over clover
bramble brushes hare
& the thickets snare

lambs baa bars
in the marbles of this marvel
cows moo too
with the shuffles in me shoe

walking wordless when
scribble sings a coma
woodpeckers peck
on a stone dead stump

trees shake limbs
in the breezes whistled wheeze
hornet horn sections
then the bees hum drums

so the legs one, two
& a bluebell knells
in the now’s soundscape
as the sun beats down
…

thundery spells

~

thundery spells ( sllep yrednuht )

…

t hunor or thor

twats a magic hammer

h urry indoors

home before the wars

u mbra up above

ushers goosebumps

n otice so the birds

not a’singing songs

d ucks await the rain

dogs shat bricks

e lephants stampede

elementals crackle

r umbles in the attic

roars from the loft

y ikes as indra strikes

yokels under yew trees

…

ode to a kettle

~

ode to a kettle ( elttek a ot edo )

…

rise in the dawning
shine before the sleeping sun
warming up morning

spatter & sputter
weaving in the sylphid mist
give us a cuppa

potion a potent
power from your dragon mouth
steam us a moment

fishes & physics
tickets to another land
lover of biscuits

brew me a b-line
dreaming through the afternoon
sing until teatime

huffing & heaving
roar beneath the blooming moon
christen the evening
…

( ~ )

~

( ~ )

…

in the morning’s moo
music is the glue

stick it like a twig
branch another jig

catch a cabbage star
see the phantom far

scrawling back again
pissing in the rain

as the maidens milk
juice a sheen of silk

churn a rusted key
warble forth & see

pigs in yawning skies
soar with butterflies

prose on toasted bread
some o’ those & spread
…

the things we taste

~

the things we taste ( etsat ew sgniht eht )

…

rain on the tingles
of an outstretched tongue

sweet saharan sand
if she pisses from the south

gloopy spoons of custard
straight from the can

frozen pizza slices
– but i prefer the cooked ones

twisted tales of thule
& a hymn from hyperborea

spinning in the blizzards
of those polar vortices

mushy peas ‘n’ cheese
on a buttered, toasted crumpet

bluebottles buzzing
in our curried parsnip soup

fresh bull dung
from the paper’s latest headline

vindaflu ‘n’ chips
with a naan to kill y’ nan

tea, if we scribble
in the riddle of the morning

milk, six sugars
plus a tin o’ ginger nuts
…