Art

poetry’s a dick’ead diary

~

poetry’s a dick’ead diary  (  a  p o e m  )

…





poetry's a sad nymph weeping

poetry's a spring lamb leaping

poems are a bunch of words

that we shat out just like turds


poetry's a burnt flag blazing

poetry's half-part amazing

poems are a form of glue

solvent free ( killjoys, boo hoo )


poetry's a sort of anchor

poetry's a fuckin' wanker

poems are a startled herd

poems are a flock of birds


poetry's a dragon - fiery

poetry's a dick'ead diary

poems know a trick or two

yet they're tits

yes, this is true

...

rush-job

~

rush-job  (  a  p o e m  )

…





each second counts

time now is squashed

great waves are tossed

against the cosh


not long have i

i'm in a rush

calm's far from here

distant its hush


& yet you there

you gently waft

with breezy ease

you swish then swash


sips of nectar

from supping cups

i'm in a rush

- don't hold me up -

...

a grey may day

~

a grey may day  (  a  t r u e  s t o r y  )

…





a grey may day

spring mist & murk

then showers fall

on april's lies


all's there somewhere

my pen still works

we need this now

the ground's too dry


so come on rain

& soak your worst

england expects

as too do i


torrents pour forth

mighty clouds burst

a grey may day

( gifts in disguise )

...

my inner-busybody

~

my inner-busybody  (  a  p o e m  o n  i c e  t h e  m u s i c a l  (  i n  9 – d  )  )

…




( my inner-busybody

told me to )


write an article

for the local parish news


tut like a king

& co-ordinate queues


in god's absence

& to keep an eye on you


( wankers )

...

weather the under

~

weather the under  (  a  p o e m  (  ?  )  )

…



the fox with chickenpox

the weasel with measles

the frog who's feeling off

the anaemic weevil


the snake with the burnt tongue

the poorly poor baboon

the snail struck by the runs

i hope you get well soon

...

drystone wall poem

~

drystone wall poem  (  a  p o e m  )

…



from the west country

to the yorkshire moors

then further & beyond

well there's drystone walls


through the fields they span

up them peaks & tors

since y'oldey days of yon

it's those drystone walls


once cement was scarce

so they're everywhere

scattered trails through the dales

stand we we pray - don't fall


on this bastard land

here they scrawl their sprawl

older than avalon

yes, it's drystone walls

( x )

...