…
last seen lost & wandering
without a cagoule
on a saint swithun’s eve
as the western then blew
grey clouds in some more
…
Author: resarfpoetry
& other plasma pals
…
unbroken toes
velcro on both elbows
so the odd is off
greener than grass
yesterday’s grey sky
is stuck in the pantry
try diagonal
reallign us right
less trodden footpaths
those beyond the crossroads
the phantom first of many
last quarter moons
afternoons & mud baths
fruit bats & musical
obtuse interludes
beckon like cornflakes
or a flaming moth
& other plasma pals
risen is the oak
the birch is still a burk
pour more coffee
…
bed times
…
king size fifty five
quarter past hammock
ten to cabin
the flowering now
futon twenty two
…
the baffle of agincourt
…
cut throats & long bows
yes, so the old legend blows
( it’s mud what won it )
…
reassemblia
…
everything is cobwebs
send for reinforcements
seventeen hen’s teeth
six hundred rubber chickens
let the bellend begin
…
brief refix
…
stagnant stags standing
statuesque the stillness
uncracked eggshells
~
then when before
that-a-way’s odd socks
& hot chocolate sachets
~
music is the muse
of your long lost uncle
let the hedgehogs fly
~
super glue the curvature
unarrange the furniture
& lick a puddle’s ripples
~
die each dream
the tangible’s a trickster
tangled in brambles
~
the moon is out tune
all the chords sound cool now
owls agree with we
~
us, the toffee suckers
under twilights treeline
badgering dawn
…
once upon an april
…
all is when the river
spins the morning’s mutant blue
then the shepherds dither
where the air refreshes
maidens dance in penguin suits
morris men in dresses
you beyond horizons
ghosting where the milkman floats
soon the welkin widens
when the pheasant’s strutting
then the rest is mustard cress
wishes in the upping
dishes by the plateful
lemon fool & toasted us
once upon an april
singing hymns & choral
come the birds & sweary words
fuckin’ ‘ell, it’s floral
face the rabid badgers
wankers on a mission then
laughing after spanners
…
the truth about the archbishop of canterbury
…
he smells of tuesday afternoons
& friday morning fog
he speaks fluent squirrel
& hedgehog with an accent
i’ve yet to see him levitate
or dance the macarena
he sleeps in the coal shed
& eats all the cobwebs
…
april, april
…
april, april
a fool in a cagoule
here beneath the clear blue
april, april
a plateful of mash
with red onion gravy
april, april
a gnome with a big nose
is kissing your tulips
april, april
a temporary bus stop
& half a tube of voltarol
april, april
the blossom on the breeze
is snowing white petals
april, april
another lamb sprang
then the west wind sang
april, april
a fool in a cloudburst
without a waterproof
…
promo tossers
…
& your advert goes here
plastered like a gash
postered like lost cats
stuck up like a bank job
( look forward to ignoring you )
…
resarf poetry 