~
soap deaths ( some fret thee not poetry )
…
there is no death upon the soaps oft drama - yes but fatal? nope you'll see them soon - there's so & so all pantomimed - panto? oh no or else they'll switch to other soaps changing ( slightly ) but sad folk know of these rebirths so on it goes there is no death upon the soaps ...
~
in the year of the pineapple ( some moderately contemporary dross )
…
the nutter
on the
bus sat
next to
me
then painted
our world
with his
shades of
gob
making too
much sense
i sighed
tired &
peeved
'fore begging
the gods
i want
that man's
job
...
~
spin back ( some reverse-truths )
…
us british came up with the term barrow boy them chinese invented the wheelbarrow the bronze age - it invented the wheel these are the facts, folks that every sod knows ...
~
i don’t suppose you seen my nose? ( re the picture – spot the lambs )
…
i don't suppose
you've seen my nose?
i took it off
so i could doze
then dreamt awhile
when i arose
shit-fiddlesticks
where are you nose
( ? )
i really need
to sniff a rose
plus sweetly now
the breeze does blow
'can't smell it though
so fields i roam
with sniffer dogs
where are you nose
( ? )
...
~
are you sitting comfortably? ( a query-poem )
…
are you sitting comfortably? buttocks on a comfy seat? a stool, sedan or settee? no bidets or toilets please that's where words come in - you see? life is war but you're at ease life is strife but this is sleep rest your weary head & feet ...
~
ring them bells ( a tale )
…
the ones that almost got away
the ones that ran
then changed their names
the ones that lived behind spun yarns
slept in ditches
in camouflage
& hid in barns with bushy beards
until they thought
they's disappeared
well now they're back so ring them bells
those ones were us
we know
ourselves
( ? )
...
~
gale – the hat thief ( story true ( a ) )
…
yes there blows gale - the hat thief trying to steal our hats plus bits of trees wallets & keys & unspecified tat i stuck my favourite hat on as there upon my head one splodged a tube of supered glue ( she stole my mind instead ) ...
~
grandfather was a clock ( a true tale )
…
grandfather was a clock born of time keeping stock he died when i was five ( sigh ) we kept his hands & cogs ( plus ) some of his d.n.a stays with me to this day come midnight then i chime thrice each noon i do the same ...
~
the sun is my witness ( some crocus-pocus )
…
the sun saw it all as the sun is my witness no nosy sorts gawped then oft justice is witless but above me truth shines as wigged types are thinking my eyes look to wise skies first squinting, then blinking ...
~
shrouded in miscellany ( all these poems should called this really, sorry … )
…
there speaks the voice of raisin but not the voice of reason those novelists have lost the plot as woods scheme acts of treason your face is in the basin some stephens are uneven yon martians in the garden & in the attic - a demon yes brass bands they are brazen as spring's a bouncy season king arthur sleeps neath avalon & mum has gone to sweden trust not ravens or masons some fiery pyres are beacons fog's often fog yet dogs are dogs your fruit is bruised not beaten ...
resarf poetry 