Author: resarfpoetry

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esoteric chaffinches

~

esoteric chaffinches ( some shit by me for all yous out theres )

…



yes sunday is the curate's egg

the synergy of gathered time

it's energy - our shattered heads

the weathering of battered rhymes


its gravy flowing through our veins

those crumbles in our custard creams

a gentle tap upon our brains

et déjà vu within our dreams


it's esoteric chaffinches

& pretty maids all in a row

all puzzled polecat - laughing fish

& television comatosed


it's drunken uncles stuck up trees

long strolls along the edge's span

tis one for you - fifteen for me

it's babychamed diazepamed

...

( occasionally )

~

( occasionally ) ( an observation in rhyme )

…


yes sometimes they're a swan

gliding down the garrone

when they're not dead round

in y'old avalon


& sometimes they're planets

there arranged in night's sky

when they're un-nested

or faint nebulae


tickling our wide-pie-eyes

muddying our said-heads

or they're chesterfield

when not beside beds


plus maybe you're one too

you're foolish like april

( but )

occasionally all of

those tables are tables

...

when teetering on silence

~

when teetering on silence ( another descent that dreams of up )

…




when teetering on silence then

the bits that flee realities

then wander beyond science men

them paths beyond totality


the speckles on the speckled hen

& libraries in faculties

the machine hand & chaffinch zen

yes oh so many gaps between


those chosen truths that rule the roost

as sure as phantoms know their oats

but slates conspire on windswept roofs

whatever floats your gravy boat


meanwhile as teeth-toothed geese deduce

& peppermint tinged wetwipes float

the singular of geese is goose

then scroats in raincoats misquote goats


( worth a try though )


...

scorpion, an otter & dove

~

a scorpion, an otter & a dove ( a modern montage of muddle )

…


this poem is happy

this poem is sad

this poem is quite sane

this poem is mad


this poem is scunthorpe

this poem is vole

this poem is flemish

this poem is mole


this poem is bare bones

this poem has hair

this poem's ticklish

but it won't say where


this poem is hake &

this poem is love

this poem's scorpion

an otter 

& dove

...

( go for it … )

~

( go for it … ) a little piss-take of a poet i had a run-in with a while ago

they’re about as intense as a w.i cake sale really

( but don’t tell them that )

 

( anyway, here’s the poem )

…




fuck this inane shit

let's be intense

we'll rattle cages

we'll leap off the fence


with bloodied word blades

hellfire in our mouths

shudder world shudder

we'll sort 'em all out


( so )


don't write of sunshine

& things that please us

'stead write of angels

skull-fucking jesus


malignant shadows

our darkness is dense

it surrounds all - yeah

this shit is intense

...

 

note issues

~

note issues ( a brief splurge of blowing gnosis )

…



writing notes on scraps of paper

dagon ploughing - see y' later

odds, sods & gods resonator

great stuff like the magna mater


scraps of scrawl this navigator

i've stowed away on a freighter

hathar is an oscillator

- your supper's in the oven -

...