We're faffin' about but just the usual gubbins no trouble or owt. No blood has been drawn here no broken bones nowt. Nothing is destroyed yet nothing gets done we're faffin' about & it's harmless fun ...
Author: resarfpoetry
turvy topsy
When I woke up this morning stuff was upside down the land was in the heavens & the clouds were on the ground everywhere's a new perspective with surprises abound so I think they should keep things ʇɥᴉs ʍɐʎ ɐɹonup ...
rest on mantelpiece
Yes several bridges & a stile former once fond memories of yesterwhile. Babylon of hanging gardens & Cuneiform, Pudding Lane, Ellisa, old school uniform. Minor acts of arson like the bandstand in the park, Nero's Rome, Barbara Hepworth & of course Joan of Arc. Evidence plus dead pets whom I remember with affection so please rest on mantelpiece - peace my urn collection x ...
livin’ the countryside life
We're lunching luncheon with a racist old lady foraged mosses, lichen, onion gravy we're taking pot shots at low flying light aircraft with silver pellets on the off-chance it's a werebat we're discussing metaphysics with bullocks we're befriending muddy fields & winding streams 'cause we're livin' the countryside life - yeah we're livin' the countryside dream ...
oh bother…
I've never worn clogs on a Wednesday or winked at an owl of an eve nor lobbed a potato at a bust of Plato yet many gullible people still they believe. That I often sing sea shanties whilst in Switzerland plus chuckle at their alpine mackerel skies these are a pack o' lies the usual shite - it's no surprise but whose behind these nasty vicious rumours & why? ...
gettin’ there…
When the grey is there to stay above the saturated earth with threatenings of rain onto its soggy sodden turf when most sensible life has scarpered when breezes pick up into cold winds instead pray for the heavens to open then the Gods can bless this dim, this grim ...
a poor sod
I read about a Sagittarius originally from Sidcup who had the hiccups non-stop for 50 years it surprised 1 day in late May in early adulthood & then persistently refused to disappear ironically they died from athlete's foot after all that but some end is yet in sight as if you stand beside their tomb beneath the haunted silver moon ghost hiccups still emerge into the restless depths of night ...
on the branches there’s blossom
On the branches there's blossom hints of pink white bits like phosphum some clouds or cotton floaty wreckless flotsam undead as the possum high like Nelson's Column & ne'er to be forgotten it's a corpus callosum as it bridges that gap between Winter & Spring on the branches there's blossom it's a curious thing ...
pudding
Once upon a wheelbarrow row row you scroat in 10 opticians are in love with a goat thus the custard's all flustered the crumble slightly deranged so kiss this odd & eat my strange ...
weekend witches
Weekend witches & Beltane pagans once yearly-nearly ramblers & blue moon dabblers. Wedding drinkers & funeral weepers occasional tables the occasionally unstable. Hy-Brasil & déjà vu a solar eclipse or the Phoenix, of course too. Brief glimpses of HELL & scarlet pimpernels plus fuck-it-that'll-do rhymers - bloody part-timers ...
resarf poetry 