contemporary poetry

snowmen in mali?

~

snowmen in mali? ( a brief pondering )

 . dot . 



winter is with us

but where is that snow?

absent is the white stuff

does anyone know?


has snow been stolen

pinch-flinched from its clouds?

is snow invisible

yet still on the ground?


maybe snow's hiding

or fancied a change?

i.e off to dubai

blizzards on bahrain?


snowmen in mali?

a self-styled exile?

it's in the teens outside

probably too mild

...

say it with flowers

~

say it with flowers ( 27.4 second of the poetryz-read )

…




talking can do so much

believe in those powers

but speech has its limits

( then )

say it with flowers


their petals - a language

their colours are words

their aromas sweeten

soothing as the 'erb


like ' thanks for the onions '

' what time's the next train? '

'why aren't your palms hairy?

you must be insane '


or ' darlings i loves you '

or ' darlings you've gone '

' enjoy the hay fever '

' f*ck off

& do one '


...

let there be shite ( ! )

~

let there be shite ( ! ) by a 16 lines of poem-stuff

…




let there be smart cars

roadworks with long queues

yappy dogs yapping

their pooh on our shoes


let there be christmas

strictly x-factored

insomnia & their

half-cousin nackered


let there be p.c

cotton wool, eggshells

let there be cloves with

their rank clovey smells


granted it's all wank

but moaning's alright

moans keep folk going

so let there be shite

( ! )

...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

usual as business

~

usual as business ( 16 lines of word-jollop )

…



usual as business

another day crawls

all days are the same

til we name them all


make dots then fill them

add flesh to their bones

feed them & clothe them

& call them our own


weather aint bothered

it rains when it rains

time's still a puzzle

that scrambles our brains


nature just cracks on

the breeze in the trees

usual as business

so same again please

...

let’s go dutch

~

let’s go dutch ( by 10 lines of poems )

…




let's go dutch & split this bill

clogs not reeboks - live in windmills

eat edam cheese til we're ill

at sea level

who needs hills


( ? )


cafés, courage, canals - yeah

why we could cycle everywhere

with our uncles - harsh but fair

tulip flowers

in our hair

...

a song of the broken

~

a song of broken things ( a poemz of stufffffffff )

…




of the broken

blackbirds sing

biscuits, hearts

& of course - wings


shattered bottles

bastard shards

icy troughs

accident scars


of broken morns

pie crusts, dreams

new ground, ranks

the mould & reeds


into gallops

fuck despair

( & )

fourth walls

so hello there

...