…
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
…
scrotes versus post-it notes
…
scribble me this
scrumpled up offerings
scrawled & small
scrotes versus post-it notes
scraps from the meme muse
scratch another little itch
scrump another berry
scry through the paper
screw the wench within
scrape each phantom barrel
scribes of micro poetry
…
( author notes )
here’s an irrelevant aside –
i used to have a resarf poetry page on facebook
but it’s since been deleted
there’s nothing for us there
everyone should get off that site
no offence to anyone that followed us there
…
acrostic for twats
…
t eriffic
w onderful
a mazing
t remendous
s uperb
…
already?
…
a letter in the post
from the ghost
of tomorrow
ten chicken chicks
hatched
last epiphany
runner beans
sprinting up a
ribboned maypole
thermal vests
in the doldrum roll
of august
supper for breakfast
& a cocoa
– not a coffee
…
woven waves
…
wafting like a ghost
if there’s a draft indoors
– i am a cobweb
…
a poem in between the blanks
…
- blank –
a river runs dry
like a jogger on the moon - blank –
normie afternoons
watching sportball bollox - blank –
the latest untrue goss
about yours truly - blank –
friends on the internet
that you’ve never met - blank –
three gulps left
of this shat cappuccino - blank –
easter makes more sense
somewhere in october - blank –
battered haddock, chips
mushy peas & curry sauce - blank –
early bird plods
along these empty footpaths - blank –
the sweet life & times
of a custard cream - blank –
the rearranged dream
of yer country cousin
…
rest in print
…
- r.i.p
- the inventor of
- the bullet point
- who died
- in a shoot out
- with a typist
- who hit
- the exclamation key
- !
- sooner
- with aplomb
…
life as it unhappens
…
a boarded up shop
on a dead high street
of a breezless afternoon
sometimes the moon
can be seen in daylight
still up from last night
but not this x
on a sheet of graph paper
doldrum roll, please
where did all the traffic flow?
we stand statesque
under dozy duvets
of motionless blue
unstung by wasps
or mutant g.m hornets
no lightning struck
while the iron was lukewarm
or song was sung of
life as it unhappens
…
the rabid badger’s nadgers
…
your tosspot narcosis
is not my odd osmosis
the sad sack lark supposes
as the human farm dozes
after night’s time closes
as the cockerel crows’s
then the rest is sneezing roses
head, shoulders, knees ‘n’ toes’s
the spare hip in hypnosis
the rabid badger’s nadgers
this flux – it juxpatoses
…
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
…
resarf poetry 