december then

~

december then by 24 lines of themz ‘ing read poemz ( ‘ing )



december then so wish us luck

snow white rabbits

the 1st - pinch punch


the month of ten & raving suns

plus julius

octavian


the mistletoe & frost bit toes

oh yule you fool

i don't suppose


a ribboned gift is wrapped for me

do partridges

roost in pear trees?


who gives a shit? get spending yous

money's a god

sod off - not true


dark afternoons as solstice looms

airing cupboards

them dried mushrooms


the piss'eads prowl with santa hats

upon their heads

the red-faced prats


december then so wish us luck

& then the end

the end?

oh fuck

...



















& fridges

~

& fridges ( a short list for nutters to shout in public )





arcane

mania

arcades

arcadia


swallows

morrow

farm folk

apollo


teapots

chocolate

warnings

watch it


bogus

focus

timesprings

a crocus


train wreck

breakneck

heed speed

synthetic sweat


nervy

 swervy

cattle

the internet


visions

schisms

uncles

nepotism


wishes

bridges

birthdays

& fridges

...


















before backwards

~

( before backwards by 12 poxy lines of pox-pox )



before backwards there was forwards

before sideways

there was straight


before slouching there was upright

before burst

there was inflate


before t.v there were hangings

before chickens

dinosaurs


before sliced bread there were bread knives

before before

- there was before -

...


( ? )



































mind bingo

~

mind bingo ( a short true tale )



often whilst out

to pass time

i play bingo

in my mind


mental-dobbing

things i see

look - a shepherd

23


a wolf whistling

11

a lucky charm

( dob ) that's 7


two little ducks

22

one little duck

me & you


yonder by the

garden gates

two fat ladies

88


a musty hive

55

bingo - i've won

where's my prize?

...















a fucking sonnet

~

a fucking sonnet ( my first & probably last attempt at writing one )




when shakespeare had a bee in his bonnet

well sod it he cursed not of the twat bee

'stead sat at his disk then penned a sonnet

in his sonnet style he named after he


oh so modestly then back to them plays

in his 2-up 2-down in london town

piss ups on fridays - it's a p.o.e.t.s day

whisky & brandy with brown ale so brown


yet bees we need far more than bill shakespeare

indeed they sting but kill rarely they do

piss ups are valid - granted that's right dear

shakespeare had clown feet he wore special shoes


sonnets are wankers bugger off bye-bye

a shite i don't give as uncouth am i

...










lines on tradition

~

lines on tradition ( a brief moan )




tradition insists

a nod - a kiss

a courtseyed bow

which god exists


what day it is

& what's day's name

make up your own

don't play their game


who wears the crown on

which special head

pick them - they're rich

plus so inbred


six-fingered logic

how do you do?

your pigeon holes

are antiques too

...
















 

don’t try to catch a falling star

~

don’t try to catch a falling star ( 8 lines of health ‘n’ safety )




don't try to catch a falling star

you'll lose your hand perhaps an arm

or leap to kiss you'll lose your face

they aint feathers - they come from space

bits of debris & meteorite

wish from a distance 'pon a night

don't try to catch a falling star

you'll lose your face

perhaps an arm

...