contemporary poetry

why no poem?

~

why no poem? ( ?meop on yhw )

…

pardon this parsnip

the moon was too moon

dawn snoozed ’til noon

with birdsong on mute

black clouds gathered

but pissed on other poets

aliens invaded

but no one really noticed

too busy watching

goblins morris dancing

feathers fell elsewhere

wolves were never there

daimons were dozing

my muses alluded

thalia tailspinned

calliope croaked

erato farted

& stank out the outhouse

ink let me dow

pens kept running ou

…

the things we say

~

the things we say ( yas ew sgniht eht )

…

with buttered toast & tea

but rain by five to sixish

the stormy dark was night

another summer daze

a song before the war

a pebble in your espadrille

a single into town

the library’s still open

& bubblewrap is back

so buy the wife a nightie

yet easter’s late again

it’s just a quid in poundland

i saw him glow this morn

a pheasant & an omen

the rumour mill’s abuzz

with fifty thousand parsnips

it makes the gloom look bigger

so keep the bloody shrapnel

a partridge in a peach tree

she bangs the belgian bongos

…

a skein is seen

~

a skein is seen ( nees si nieks a )

…

autumn’s auspecies

greylags in gaggles

pale or dark bellied

brent from the arctic

like a latin five

marvel at the barnacles

pink footed, tundra

honking on the wind

first is the sound

older than the gold

of a younger, brighter saturn

rasping in the clouds

so we stop & watch

eyes looking skyward

over dead clover

as the mosses green

victory & peace

singing like a symbol

flapping fowl fingers

shades of harvey smith

vees above the trees

geese on a mission

swears up in the air

– up yours ‘n’ all

…

definitions of a poems

~

definitions of a poems ( smeop a fo snoitinifed )

…

the journal squirms of dead old men

& spinsters with cobwebs for knickers

the gruel of school, designed to bore

the speak of sleep – & so we snored

with purple spurts & shapes of beige

an open toad upon a page

that no one reads, a dull-de-sac

a sack of shit, a bag of cack

or magic beans for cabbage folk

a cattle prod, an egg, a yoke

a floating ghost or cheese on toast

the tapered tones of nature’s notes

a sort of door, a funky key

the apes & scrapes of monkey me

a letter stuck with music’s glue

( parcelled to parts unknown )

the gaps between the cracks in clouds

a scribble in – & out the other

a shooting star of trar-luh-lar

the lucid dreams of prose in a coma

the twisted lists of brevity’s rants

the ants in pantomime’s pants

the life & times of baa, baa, baa

rhyming, if inclined

& shining like a shining thing

…

things you can catch

~

things you can catch ( hctac nac ouy sgniht )

…

fruit cake brain slime

the raisin in the rhyme

y’olden, golden sunshine

& blue moon beams

silver fish the size

of a big, fat kraken

aids from a penfriend

– hope’s in those letters

snails, if you hurry

debris from space

feathers from a distant

exploding pillow factory

cannonballs from castle walls

the clap from a nun

a number of busses

& the gist of this list

…

as the ‘rona drones

~

as the ‘rona drones ( senord anor’ eht sa )

…

~

over clover’s leas

plods a yokel cabbage

~

songs within his deep green

anorak pockets

~

under onion skies

pickled like the piffle

~

of the brainstream snooze

& the beige of the age

~

birdsong glistens still

in the pantaloons of winter

~

welkins bloom to blue

lilac alder catkins

~

kingfisher swishes

by the blanks of the gibber

~

colours sound around

shite night musing’s

~

cows beyond the town

cattle beyond cattle

~

sheep upon these hills

watch the village witter

~

as the ‘rona drones

so the muzzled skip

~

dancing with the ants

in this phantom pantomime

…

in the can ( & out the other )

~

in the can ( & out the other ) ( ( rehto eht tuo & ) nac eht ni )

…

~

in the can be mushy peas

prunes with stones

& gloopy custard

~

squirming worms & earthen holes

morning skies

like golden syrup

~

water for the garden gnomes

cannon balls

as cavalry canter

~

in the can be canticles

cantaloupes

& candlemas eve

~

can’s a tin & tin’s a drum

hark, the music

– can you see?

~

in the can be other cans

kicking cans

& dancing the cancan

…