~
piss off christmas ( my christmas poem )
…
then christmas rears
the dark of the year
glib festive twats
shit festive cheer
so spend spend spend
you're dosh fucking shite
it's all a con
for jesus christ
that mortal fraud
yet there's pagan roots
oft ignored when
it doesn't suit
those bibled scum
( they're )
their devil itself
piss off christmas
you're bad for our health
...
~
wake-up poem by some pisspot-poet or other
…
begin begin
the opening part
act one scene one
the dawn of start
the cock has crowed
then died on his arse
there is no script
it's shit not art
it's not a song
there aren't any words
the cock? piffle
there are no birds
just make it up
go on - have a splurge
mar blank a4
with bastard verse
...
~
when dogs seize power … ( a short poemz )
…
their days draw near soon dawns the hour when man falls when dogs seize power they'll scoop our poop they'll own us then when treachery is our best friend ...
~
re catkins ( a brief postmodern essay )
…
they don't purr
& they don't nap
or chase a mouse
or catch a rat
they aint cats
it's trees you fool
they're called catkins
because they're cool
...
~
why the brush … by some so & so of so
…
a brush with daft a brush with paint a rustic scene warm strokes of quaint a head brush rush a brush with teeth a brush with hair & or chimneys a brush with witch a brush of broom a brush with death that dance of doom the burning brush a foxy tail we scrub-up well brushes prevail ...
~
( nearly home now ) by 4 couplets for saturday morning
…
yes i could see my house from here if all this mist would disappear if this piss rain would dissipate if this fog would evaporate if these glasses were super-strength if this hilltop well up it went just like some magic bean-stalked plant ( down there somewhere's my house of ant ) ...
~
do as those romans are ( a shorts poetrys of smeop )
…
when in rome
do as those romans are
in a toga
ride a vespa
down a backstreet
after dark
worship
old popes
or gods
named after planets
pick
your roman nose
( ? )
but beware
the ides of march
...
~
conversations with florence ( a poetrys poem of a )
…
i've been chatting
with the statue
of florence
in town
we discussed lamps
the crimea
& owls
the medici
light-winged dryads
her stone lips
unmoved
yet sound
( she's always good
for a natter
if i'm knockin' around )
...
~
re joseph by some fuckin’dick’ead other than yous ( x )
…
but was it god or coat-magic that gave joseph those dreams ( ? ) fantasies / mind control or was he on the cheese ( ? ) ...
~
hello there …
( a poetry of poetrys poem by please click to read so it’s not all scrunched-up )
( thank you )
…
i wave at sound i wave at sea i wave at light i wave at queen i wave at s i wave at p & they wave back coz they've seen me ...
resarf poetry 