Author: resarfpoetry

resarfpoetryhttps://resarfpoetry.wordpress.com
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shoezone song

…

i’ve just been to shoezone
( formally bacons )
where i bought a new pair
of shoezone shoes

so to go a’ walking
in the fields & woodlands
dawdles down the tree lined
let’s be avenues

my old pair of j.j
.b sports trainers
faded like the last track
sung by a swan

holes in both the soles &
a mouth at the front
exposing hairy toes
where the stitching had gone

so i went to shoezone
( formally bacons )
where i bought a new pair
of shoezone shoes

come with me to shoezone
( formally bacons )
bargains for us, darling
plenty to choose

( from )

…

u n s u r p r i s i n g

…

u sually green pine trees
umber shades of rust
n umpties on the bbc
nuns in nunneries
s eagulls when the farmer ploughs
socks before each shoe
u mbrella if the rain appears
unicorns with horns
r otten apples & wasps
roses blah thorns
p lastic people on t.v
police dance the conga
r ight on cue like snooker
rotations on this cosmic egg
i cing on a bun
illium is sacked again
s quirrels in the park
sport distracts big kids
i ncase of sun – sunglasses
itches for each scratch
n ormies storm the pop charts
nob’ead narc’ influencers
g loves because the frost
gladder when pastoral

…

the famished folk

…

a chicken that quacks
like a mallard up river

& a five pound discount voucher
for those already ripped off

no more limescale
slightly less wars

a christmas in spring
& easter on halloween

a.i jesus archetypes
curing bots ‘n’ what not’s

twenty more genders
& a duck that clucks

is all the big mob
with the big gob wish

so give the hungry crowd
what the famished folk want

…

although – the acrostic

…

a nswers arrived on postcards
apples fell on you
l etters never sent still came
line dancers went full circle
t he garden centre flourished
toadstools croaked
h illtop views subdued us all
harold burnt the hot cross buns
o pen sandwiches saved the day
offa renamed his p.c ditch
u kelelists struck a chord
unicyclists graduated
g olden pheasants shone
gnomes scratched noses
h ippos fled the mud bath
hellcats went to heaven

…

oh lofty one

…

your sunken afternoon
came far too sodding soon
if you’re a neutron star
then i’m a minor moon

your blissful sun kissed beach
has crabs & sinking sand
or so to sausage speak
your blossom zen is bland

i’d rather ride atop
a wooden rocking chair
than wander in the blank
of your phantastic there

where khaos only knells
a distant, milksop bell
but nature flaps ‘n’ kens
that all too feathered well

the haunted laughter in
the restless woods & that
the dawdles of the loons
the spoons, the stupid twats

is freer than the ice
the frozen plod in thy
the formless, yawning storm
behind your prudent eye

as panting pantomime’s
a field, a frog, a horse
another sort of muse
another obtuse force

…

god of odd

…

let there be ball lightning
phantasmic plasma

with a psyche of its own
– perhaps a cosmic fart?

or toads inside stones
croaking not croaked it

a showering of frogs
a light drizzle of newts

a cryptid in each
lake or quite large puddle

a double decker bus found
within a martian crater

a poundland discovered
underneath a megalith

from neolithic though
& so you scramble eggheads

dodos re-emerging in
sleepless suburbia

the puzzling is this
blizzards in mid-july

& still no solid reason why
so keep ’em all guessing

…

ingredients … ish

…

demeara sugar ( woulda-coulda )
( everything was ) butter ( dream )
half a pound ( not fifty p )
( know thy ) self raising flour
( live electrical ) currants
raisin ( expectations )
glazed ( not eyes but ) cherries
apricot ( toe ) jam
( there’s no such thing as
original ) cinnamon
( & other ) mixed ( up ) spice
( is there life on ) marzipan

( ? )

…