…
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
…
Author: resarfpoetry
where art they now?
…
pensively with pencils
before each inking on
& bolder linework
shaping each maybe – but
first a shade of graphite grey
with come-what-may strokes
winter’s ghost scrawls
cobwebs in a notepad
on blizzard white paper
then black happenstance
draws us further in
…
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
…
a load of old bollards
…
b elgian barn owls
betelgeusian butteries
o peratic opticians
ox-eyed daybreak
l evitate like ladybirds
listless lies londinium
l unar sea shanties?
lo, the larking lollards sing
a ntlers on a postcard
actium – but fought on land
r aspberry ripples in
radio wave functions
d enmark is an urban myth
diabetic dodos suppose
s trontium dogs bark
somewhere in limbo landfill
…
of the tangibles –
…
minding your missives
like so & so’s post-it-notes
( please excuse the gaps )
the last gasp staggers
on let’s bee avenue
( perhaps – the mishaps )
rearranged faces
of the tangibles & not
( guess which one frowns next )
you became paper
scribbled with the spider’s ink
( black plus white is grey )
now is yesterday
then is when the cowslips come
( home from the green fields )
…
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
…
yet more critical feedback
…
it’s the hit ‘n’ mist
in bellend fog
where’s the ruddy twist?
( angry face emoji )
needs more sense
like plants need water
& other cliché
– face the beige instead –
settle like pebbles
on the restless riverbed
don’t rock the trumpet
or blow yer own boat
just be the dust
not scatterings of ash
& watch that splashback
– as per the bots
…
with misty limbs
…
ghost lit passages
suddenly a human form
displaying phantom hands & heads
lo, the nature of
shapeshifters & uncarved blocks
let’s begin with misty limbs
sooner than a once
bonces unravelling
illusory balls
of baling twine – not string
– hark, the herald hedgerows sing
…
seasonal shivers
…
shivering silver
christingle toes upon
mistletoe althoughs
take the epiphany
strange time travel
unravelling rhymes
in the reason beyond
a load of old baubles
the normalz in retreat
as their fake cheer fades
like the ghost of a swan
…
elephant sealant
…
forty three starlings
half a carton of skimmed milk
ghost fifty seven
…
resarf poetry 