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geometric beekeeper ( a n o t h e r d r e a m )
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bastard knuckle pox nebulous bats aftershocks phantom socks detox ...
Art
f -words
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f – words ( some o’ that )
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finger frizzled fjords freckle fibular freight fudge flummoxed frisbee fucks ...
applegeddon
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applegeddon ( a poem about apples, can you read … ? )
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the orchards nod in sort of bobs as absent doctors crumble pie the rain aloft is pips & sobs as maggots scrump the cider eyes the carts they dart with sunken hearts & toffee tears for what draws near we'll beat the wasp at any cost for harvest tide & cyanide ...
doomsday frocks
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doomsday frocks ( a true sprawl )
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the mutant shrew has spewed the floss as fuzzy frogs they feud the dross so cabbage brains they lavish drains in doomsday frocks then newt the moss the student gnu has stewed the cross as dummy dogs they smooth the pox so jangled cranes they scan the lanes for salty clocks to boot the toss the foolish shoe has glued the gloss as honey hogs they boo the fox so sandy grains they pansy stains & poppy cocks the nuisance socks ...
annual checkup
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annual checkup ( because i once saw a jigsaw jig & other reasons too )
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the ears are piers - the eyes are shores the mind is threads & minotaurs the elbows glow if sneezes glow when daydreams scream - the anus snores the hands are bands - the toes are bells the feet are beats & yoking spells the furrowed brow is highland cow when breezes growl - the armpits yell the knees are cheese - the chin is warm the spine is swine & unicorns the noses grow - all six, you know when autumn falls & fungi spore the soul is vole - the brain is cells the neck is heck yet ankles smell of roman roads & barley mows the heart is still a wishing well ...
pseudo-scrump
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pseudo-scrump ( a true story )
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hardy green pears they ripen in the wooden bowl morning stroll windfalls ...
41090
spiders on the mind
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spiders on the mind ( a true story like what all the others is )
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it's silky spun behind this rain
as webbed feet squeak on shiny lanes
a fly or three
i'll eat for tea
i've spiders on the mind again
...
there’s an echo in the room
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there’s an echo in the room ( a true truth of truths )
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there's an echo in the room - there's an echo in the room there's an echo in the room - there's an echo in the room there's an echo in the room - there's an echo in the room there's an echo in the room ( it's gone ) ...
odd bless this grim
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odd bless this grim ( a trueish story )
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the dales are veils - the hills are still the sun has paled beneath this grey that here wassails & wails its will from vaults above upon this fray the rain is hail - the sleet is sheet the clouds are shrouds of drunken dim the gale exhales & quakes the wheat no bird is heard within this brim the quail has bailed - my quill has chilled its ink has failed as curates pray for gold & ale & sleep & pills as trees sweat on & mad dogs stray the nails are snails - the streams are streets the cats are hounds - the wind has limbs these days i crave - their taste is sweet my frown they drown - god bless this grim ...
resarf poetry 