~
balls ( some balls-verse )
…
balls, balls
it's all just balls
oh slimy crystals
yards & walls
balls, balls
leather on cork
& twats called jack
they're in your court
balls, balls
a bouncy spell
rubber, pig bladder
fucking hell
( yes )
balls, balls
& cheesy smells
so probably
bollocks as well
...
~
keeping time ( a precautionary tale )
…
i like to keep a spare afternoon in my pocket next to them keys which i always need & a pleasant evening around my neck kept in a locket ( only to be opened during emergencies ) ...
~
positive thoughts
( some non-offensive poetry but not poetry about the somme offensive )
…
a treasure trove
of mauve is stowed
down there, somewhere
maybe
?
( fuck knows )
...
~
the land of sheep ( some shite )
…
this is the land of sheep - 'tis true this is the land of rams & ewes each blurry spring as birds they sing the population mushroom-booms this is the land of sheepish folk bashful shepherds asleep neath oaks in pastures green ( sometimes serene ) as wolves in woollen clothes encroach ...
~
on the sheet ( some sheet )
…
we're on the sheet yes as we do once more unto a sheet or two a sneeze - achoo a squeeky shoe good morning all good evening you bring me my ink my shitty pens & special lens for hidden gems please some of them aye know thy sen we're on the sheet again ( the end ) ... ( author notes ) in case you were unaware sen means self, nice 1
~
breadcrumb trails ( some ?-verse )
…
i've been following breadcrumb trails along yon rivers in them dales for years & counting - through time's mist oh mystery - your tail tells tales or so folk say yet here no luck in lieu of clues i'm quackin' up the trail's gone stale, my shape it shifts so now - oh fuck i am a duck ...
~
crackin’ in ( coz rhymes can be free too )
…
crackin' up? crackin' in tentacles pack it in kraken yous natterjack bubblewrap cul-de-sacs toad on road air pockets soothsayers eye sockets portents here bubble burst stub a toe ow - that hurts ~ phone a friend? make one up be a bee sup, sup, sup wear a face don a gown i've seen her around town vanishings stroke an ear candlemas disappear turnip wars piffle vest sandwiches ( bless this mess ) ...
~
crafted by hand ( some truths & out the other one )
…
all of these poems are crafted by hand no fancy machines as it's art - isan but just who is anne? you misunderstand no robotic prods just shat pen - that's grand as birds boss the skies as sheep graze the land one scribbles on sheets shit riddles of man it's bespoke ( of course ) all part of the plan so don't knock this wank 'twas crafted by hand ...
~
biscuit fingers ( some shite for turdsday )
…
if i had biscuit fingers i'd nibble at my digits i'd dip them in my tea then i'd be impaired ...
~
the p in ptarmigan ( some more gubbins for the annals )
…
you're not the c in cardigan or either b in barbican no - you're the p in ptarmigan ( your silence fools not me ) ...
