~
…
dormice snoring with
the bears that sleep in the woods
in between their shites
…
Author: resarfpoetry
musings on cuckoos & caca
~
…
there’s a bird in a clock
in the bonce
of the masses
as the bright skies lark
& a dark light gasses
like a fart – from the arse
of a granny on the bitter
so the pooh follows through
& the winter is a shitter
says the ghoul in the box
as a fox
trots faster
s & m – yet again
wear a mask – yes master
see the prick’s pantomime
with a climb of a stumble
in a backwards forth
or the apple cart will crumble
so a magpie’s eyes
spy the weasels
in the armour
as the sun drowns down
& the jabberwocky’s scarper
but the stoats still float
over clover of the after
singing spinning hymns
of the cuckoos
& their caca
…
sdrow rof stol
~
…
like a dictionary
typed
with invisible ink
like the night’s sky
if the overcast
cloud is a shroud
blanker than the stare
of a philanthropic
billionaire
unscribble i
as little bo peep
looks for sheep
& humpty dumpty
is scrambled
on buttery toast
like a magnetic
poetry kit
in a pole shift
…
musings on crab apples & crabs
~
…
no, they’re not like fleas
or their itchy namesake
so we catch them from trees
not hot tubs in nunneries
or a sauna packed with tramps
or from sniffing sailor’s pants
they don’t grow in the sea
or fall horizontally
apparently they’re apples
but they’re jellified – not pied
or crumbled like a bramley
with blackberries & custard
the mustard cuts with this
the rest is paper thin
with a sparkle in their heart
& a star beneath their skin
…
a newt beginning
~
…
under aqua swam
the salamander’s cousin
once upon a pond
…
nan’s on the road
…
nan’s on the road
in a hi-vis vest
red like the bus
at the queue’s tail end
vans honk horns
cars carp back
morning, afternoon
green is money’s honey
see the schemes of ghouls
pissing pantomimes
what a bunch of cults
witter earthen i
london is a floodplain
prone to tidal surges
half of it was marshland
before the pound signs flew
like a skein of goslings
frozen is the future
autumn is upon us
it’s cold out now
nan, come home
countdown’s on the telly
ovaltine’s calling
& gypsy creams
…
the stirring brrr
…
the game’s afoot – the foot’s a plot
the ‘rona crossed with mutant flus
a seven hundredth booster shot
the wank is back, the tosser’s spin
the shining shite upon the snooze
is beaming like a goblin’s grin
the even’ creeps, the morning rains
& all is balls ‘n’ cockatoos
escape the the chains of normalzzz brains
upon a wander in a wood
a traipse in tartan painted trews
a bobble hat beneath a hood
a skein is seen – a passing vee
is honking as the green adieus
the swearing air is victory
& bugger off ’til catkins purr
a farting partridge parps the blues
until’s a chill, the stirring brrr
is rising as a sliding scale
the letters bee in avenues
the end’s a bend & time’s a snail
a scatter graph, a spool of smoke
the numbers scrunch in twisted shrews
a stool of toads ’til crocus croak
…
( some of my best friends are cyan )
…
the sky must be
as green the grass
the grass
as blue as the sky
& heaven help
the cotton socks
of those who don’t comply
…
animal a-holes
…
alligator arse
abysmal ape aperture
aardvark anuses
…
don’t feed the snarks
…
let’s begin a brain
broken english biscuits
open up the inn
kiss the gibbon’s chin
love is in the hare
where the rabbits run
rings around the sound
of your wonky knees
cables overhead
death is speckled breath
kippers in the mist
over in the outhouse
down among the clouds
mooning lunar cheeks
eating chalky cheese
chasing tales of snails
check the meter’s off
squawking on all fours
don’t feed the snarks
donuts after dark
if the whistle’s wet
when the muse is muesli
seek a greener sea
pissing up a tree
…
