Author: resarfpoetry
spook the truth
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spook the truth ( a 5-7-5 shiteku )
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cobwebbed cobbled lanes ghostly goatherd boggled brains pheasants & skid marks ...
muse news musings
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muse news musings ( a poem that isn’t about muesli )
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your muse is news - the paper cries as tea mugs steam & low cloud stirs perhaps the sun will shine my shoes when light beams through in sudden bursts i think out loud as pigeons sigh & bookworms feast on dog-eared words oh muddled daze of much ado your gift was but a muddled curse this much is true yet wild boar glide as hen fangs rip & dead cats purr perhaps the moon will mow my lawn when lowly ink still finds the verse to buzzard on as swallows dive & robins bob - observe the birds my muse is news - no tears weep i thanks fuck & phew - things have been worse ...
in the lead …
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in the lead … ( the scores so far )
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20% dusk 30% dense woodland 50% owl ...
five hundred onions
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five hundred onions ( another poem-ish )
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five hundred onions ten thousand carrots twenty million turnips but only one potato ...
otter’s pockets
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otter’s pockets ( 32 lines of wobble )
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basket weaving - bastard evenings dog in clover - eyes in sockets apples bobbing - pears are peeling thoughts are swimming - mind myopic windows smearing - kettle's steaming multiverses - that's the tonic poles are flipping - ice is screaming unplugged t.v - otter's pockets toast is smoking - piffle's calling hares are boxing - merry easters walls are cracking - dawn is snoring palmate newts are hailing caesars dozing moments - rarely boring cheeky monkeys - bloody rhesus glitter patters on the awning biblical say saul & peter gold is hiding - fools are gleaming there in may was lucy locket rivers weeping - streams are scheming foxgloves, bluebells, valves & sockets night is bright when day is dreaming verse is birds - bees in their bonnets tennis ankles - crickets teeming spitting feathers - brown clouds - top shit bollocks itching - mice are roaring multitudes in millimetres ears have noses - walls are talking lollipops & lotus eaters winks are winging - boards are scoring well dressings as balance teeters fingers crossed we'll kiss the morning pyrrhic wins shall not defeat us ...
critique-fodder
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critique -fodder ( a short poem about motherfuckers )
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is this a poem? how about now? milk the wild thistle & tickle the cow is this a poem? squint as you read stroke your chin bristle & wobble your knees is this a poem? what do you think? blow your tin whistle & lick at the ink was that a poem? how did it fare? did it ring fizzles & why should we care? ...
as & &
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as & & ( 120 syllable read )
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as the brown fox leaps the green flea & fuchsia clang in chimes as the chainsaw hugs the oak tree & the blank verse starts to rhyme as the salt pot shuns the deep sea & the cyclops leads the blind as the ibex ride the rough scree & the faux pas meet landmines as the feather fights the mild breeze & the evening blackbird chimes as the cockerel clucks at chickpeas & a mist falls in the mind as the bonnet irks the wild bee & the millstone feels the grind just plod on & keep it lively wanders of another kind ...
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thence
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thence ( some o’ that 5-7-5 piffle )
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phantasmic milksops eclectic eels on hilltops stone age toothpaste stains ...