~
gnivom
…
incontinent
consonants
vowels
& bowels
…
~
gnivom
…
june is blue
…
~
bob on ( no bob )
…
spectred headless horseman
trot a haunted moor
swans upon a duck pond
sylph the mists of spring
drifting bits of branches
float atop the ocean
bees within a wonky breeze
weaving of an eve
swirling with the dervish
spinning on a shilling
sunken suns a’dawning
balls & all is yawning
i upon a snaking lane
songs within my pockets
like a dog upon a seesaw
nodding with your uncle
…
~
another bloody late may list poem ( meop tsil yam etal yfoolb rehtona )
…
shoelaces untied
goosegrass rashes
two blue unicorns
spotted on this morning’s walk
ladybirds & maidenflies
snapdragon crackles
pollen on a sneezing breeze
ants in the pants
of the dozing dog roses
hedgehogs & hemlock
foxtrotting foxgloves
pan’s on the catnip
packed are the parklands
– bloody part timers
swimming shorts – under shorts
almond milk in the fridge
…
( author notes )
anyone who says that lists aren’t poems
is a bullshitting fuckwit
& an ignorant cock rash
–
lists have been part of poetry since at least
the catalogue of ships
in the iliad
–
so blame homer
& piss off
…
…
…
~
nesting, nesting ( gnitsen ,gnitsen )
…
nesting, nesting
swan
two
tree
…
psychopomp & circumstance ( ecantsmucric & pompohcysp )
…
i’ve seen you since i.c.u
jackdaw of this yawning’s walk
caw a morning’s sylphid lea
bobbing in aurora’s mist
pigeon on the garden fence
chatterings of chaffinches
swishing swifts once camlann snatched
bouncing black like arthur’s chough
roundabouts & owl again
signets sing of saturn’s rings
as a hatchling winter wren
struts the stuff of pheasant legs
warble with the choral calls
chuckles under second suns
flapping neath the even’s eves
curlew as the curfew flags
lapwing laughing overhead
sights in flight for sleepless eyes
‘pon a roving afternoon’s
feathered haze of yester-daze
nightingale of waxing moons
speckled sparrow shadow man
psychopomp & circumstance
nimble winged since breath bent left
…
~
( author notes )
according to some cornish variations of the arthurian legends
( i am ) arthur, king of the britons
became a red-billed chough after the battle of camlann went a bit pear shaped
p.s
the title / line 23 is just a shit elgar pun
… so there …
…