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when thoughts aren’t snakes ( a brief rant in defence of nature )
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when thoughts aren't snakes zoomorphic crawls our gorgoned heads the greenswards call our vipered mouths for heaven's sake our forked tongue said don't blame the snake those bibled worms them lambs o' god they started most the wooly sods birds flutter here merge into bats perception is a fucking twat ...
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off the old blocks … ( a short, chip-related poem )
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yes everything with chips hot pies & sandwiches casinos - electronics that turpentine & piss chipped plates piled high with chips all dogs are micro-chipped ( so ) we'll be next - we can't resist as everyone loves chips ...
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nature knows ( under a minute of read-thing )
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yes nature knows the price of tea in china like their steel it's cheap the saying goes as followed through please see above now back to you as it's all maths uncharted maps the margins & the paragraphs confusion reigns on subject brains yet kings aint nature - smudges stain a wonky smile of maybes too zephyrus west breeze sneeze a clue there's wicked tricks plus booby traps so please fill in the many gaps thus help us out is this a quiz? yes buzz in if you think it is with answers please please some of those & no cheating as nature knows ...
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sundown sinking ( 24 lines of read )
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sundown sinking bowing heads going down like flasher's kegs bismarckically endgame shite dead swan star song bright twilight mrs wilson come & see golden kisses slobber trees bits of carrot in in their mouths too polite to spit it out thrushes fluster in their roosts impatient owls start to hoot hallowed be thy shit 'ot rays the night is nigh t'ra day ...
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glove in a cold climate ( a poem of sorts )
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'round these arse endz temperatures fall as humpty dumpty from the wall the berlin wall in '89 november's eggs remember time our scrambled selves that sinking sun first fingers tingle then just numb no titus oates are frozen us but when warm goes on go them gloves ...
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late autumn gulps by sixteen lines of seasonal verse-shat
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late autumn gulps a precious breath surveys its damage what is left the trails of gales yet lovers swoon but hedgehogs sleep as winter looms there's mistletoe there to be seen summer is hiding in the green of holly leaves & ivy too as scrumpy ferments ( that'll do ) ...
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shoe language by 8 lines of itchy scab
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tap with your feet tap your shoed tip toes tap once for yes & tap twice for no multi taps - dance so go with them flows collapse means tired & then we'll all know ...
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nature reserve ( a short ‘n’ rhyming vaguely poetic discharge )
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succumb to the scum as a moth to a flame or d cameron's cock to a dead hog's gob it's quarter past beige tantrums are all the rage there's watches in them cogs shetland pony analogue there's mind on the brain fucking slime in the drains answers hide in them lofts yellow snow's pissed off a turquoise refrain but the windows in pane yes certain bubbles pop but heres it don't stop ...
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anyone for cricket by 16 mid-on-inside-off-edge-leg lines
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anyone for cricket? whites & sticky wickets the leg-a-rubbing insects singing in the thicket please bowl us a googly as you won't confuse me if the umpire signals out i'll flash 'em a moony agricultural ducks lewis method dumb fucks fruit salad & furniture on the boundary - bad luck topspin twenty20 breathless hushes testy tea in the pavilion sandwiches aplenty ... ( author notes ) this poem contains a few cricketing terms & a little nod to henry newbolt
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certainly ( a poem, dot dot dot )
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i know my hand like riding a bike on the back of my hand as sure as pike might bite my hand shit - which little finger? on an as clear as day if i stick it in the river ( so there ) ...
resarf poetry 