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barking dogs are sawing hedges ( a true story )
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barking dogs are sawing hedges as they're storming through my head poems hide beyond the edges so i just write this instead startled cars are passing sirens not quite what my muse had planned telephones on noisy islands hopefully you'll understand ...
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that dream again ( some sheet )
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feathers for fingers & cat flaps on mars wanders on venus & clogs in hot cars florists on calpol & vikings in jars badgers are strumming on bastard guitars bishops in crystals & whale song in shoes bagpipes in black holes & yetis in trews monday in sunday & tuesday in lieu saxons are flaxen to addle the muse light in my left hand & shpherds in bras strangers in mangers & dogfish in stars troughs in the peakland & barn owls in bars march hares are marching through barmy bazaars voles in old coal mines & cowslips in moos darkness in sundials & clocks in cuckoos pole vault the scots pine & tickle the shrew what does it all mean? we haven't a clue ...
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( then ) ( a micro-essay )
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caramel wind farms peppermint-tinged neutron pants plasticine cousins ...
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the downpour ( some sheet )
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i thudded on your leaky roof i lurked within your murky drains i squelched so in your shoes & boots i tap danced on your window panes i bore your garden many fruits i drowned your rat - delayed your train i pleased your duck, your swan & goose as i ruined your cricket game i soaked your laundry with my juice i pissed upon your aeroplane i quenched your trees - your beech & spruce when i tickled your weather vane as any pillock could deduce with half their brain - i was the rain but now there's sun - i'll soon vamoose i'm silver puddles on your lane ...
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soz etc. ( an extension of sumit from yesterday )
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ripples of ivy & buckets of rain
sunday is thursday so much of the same
cloaked as the oak tree
but hope is key
ghosts in vague ruins with baffling chains
tardy drystone walls & bruises on arms
fresh scabs on kneecaps & clutched luckless charms
still as the fruit bowl
alive as the foal
wobbles in woodland & annals on palms
dallies in valleys & taps on the brain
bat flaps of evenings as rats race up drains
bare as the bony
as dead as the sea
brisk as the spring lamb - as deft as the flea
weasels in haystacks & barnstorms in barns
supper for breakfast on patchwork hill farms
quiant as the maypole
or pockets in holes
loons in old mill towns with tales in their yarns
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with notes ( a little story-poem of some truth )
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with notes of rome in flames - aglow & oh those vandal so & so's we ponder on - the dog & i as air it cools - a soft breeze blows with notes of ludwig's joyous ode in search of ghost tales of the gloam or gold - as ever - treasure hides passed private drives where ivy grows with notes of mars & jericho & curtain calls for west end shows in still we plod with but a sigh as snails leave trails of slimy slow yes evening roams - the sun is low & soon to vanish down below the hills but on the other side from where this dawn it yawned hello ...
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gravel gruffs ( some o’ that 5-7-6 sheet )
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flipflop ombudsman whale song in wellington boots courgette spaghetti hoops ...
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soz ( a nonrick for sunday & out the other one )
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weasels in haystacks & barnstorms in barns supper for breakfast on patchwork hill farms quaint as the maypole or pockets in holes loons in old mill towns with tales in their yarns ...
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absent dawn ( some rhymes for sunday etc. )
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the sky was green - the sheep were clouds the owls were air in hot balloons the hens were clucked - the wren was loud the goldfinch licked the silver spoon the sun was pun - the land was sway the badgers bastard out the tunes the hedges edged - the horsefly neighed at oafish newts with attitude the bleak was well - the rooks smoked crows the polecats pranced in pantaloons the snails were whales - the lanes were toads & nice 1 cried the riping moon the hills weren't ill - the deer were fawn the mood was baboons on bassoons but where were you? oh, absent dawn you missed a cracking afternoon ...
resarf poetry 