~
in the realm of early evening ( 10 lines of read )
…
in the realm of early evening just beyond afternoon's grasps bats 'n' blackbirds interweaving confluences pebble-dashed too far now for night's gobshite fare free of sunny morning's cheer all maps agree the whys & wheres x eves the spot ( you are here ) ...
~
an assortment of wobbles ( some poemz )
…
another daze - another wobble sprained is day yet on she hobbles maelstroms suck fat turkey's gobbles puddles muddle pigeons squabble oh yonder dales beyond those windmills with the sound of the bastard hills resonate rattle windowsills turn my biro into a quill save mater earth & keep bees on it stationary supersonic shanks's pony plate tectonic clubfoot sandwich language phonics save the slogan & jellied quibbles bad shrew jokes - byzantine riddles piggys in the midst of middles dogs called god & cats called tiddles ...
~
dear little bird ( 4 quatrains for the year’s first actual tuesday )
…
dear little bird pecking my brain you feather not these flighty thoughts you are no bird - this truth is sane the rest is of less-sketchy sorts them pencils & them pads are mad my inky eyes are on the blink now straining as that world of fact this is how i normally think so peck away & do your worse like edgy free-verse about death pretend that you're a birdy curse pretend that you are worth the breath of uttering some veiled response as if i give a piece of piss so maybe you were haiku once? i care not ( beyond writing this ) ...
~
varicella zoster & thereabouts ( a brief yearning )
…
dear chickenpox i miss you lots once you were mine i had you once do you recall? oh - years ago so many since for you although i'm sure one day as sure as worms the cunning ones catch early birds quite soon you'll turn & kill us all just like you killed them dinosaurs ...
~
lines on milton keynes ( 4 couplets )
…
i've never been to milton keynes it never shows up in my dreams i've heard the cows are concrete there down the m1 - down south, somewhere but maybe someday i shall go to this future mutant ghetto wander its streets, pop in its shops hang out with them strontium dogs ...
~
the mystery of soup ( a brief treatise )
…
soup the food that makes us piss soup the drink that makes us shit confusing, isn't it ( ? ) ...
~
( the month of jan by the right-reverend jan uary )
…
the month of jan
when plans began
snow white rabbits
pinch punch - ow man
perhaps begun?
the head's still spun
the bare bones of
time's skeleton
begin afresh
the same old mess
biscuits - risk it
each step's a guess
still miss & hit
trapdoors 'n' tricks
but early days
( don't shit them bricks )
...
~
a glimpse of heaven ( a limerick )
…
there was a man from devon who caught a glimpse of heaven up on dartmoor he briefly saw six angels - maybe seven ( ? ) ... ( author notes ) well, it was only a glimpse after all ...
~
there was young lady from surrey ( a limerickz )
…
there was a young lady from surrey who sped through her days in a flurry her decisions were rash her appearance - slapdash far too hurried to think about worries ...
~
new year confusion ( 24 lines of that there poemz-shat )
…
the year is dead
long live the year
the month of jan's
two-faced head rears
there's rain outside
on new year's day
december's piss
washes away
down dated drains
everything's old
everything's new
old tales untold
where be my head?
i am confused
oh mulberries
time's spiked my juice
it's early days
but is it though
- oh look, a ghost
strange shades they glow
unseen before
by mortal eyes
i give up on
the whats & whys
( ? )
...
resarf poetry 