contemporary poetry

a conker fell

~

a conker fell ( llef reknoc a )

…

a conker fell upon the path

a feather & a leaf

upon the soft & sodden ground

– the lightness of a thief

& ponder i upon a plod

is this a sort of nod?

a mirror land of sinking sand

a portent & a sod

a bugger of the rectal rim

a spanner up the arse

a bounder of a bouncing bean

until the green is sparse

the roundabouts of out again

with knickers in a spin

a vernal verse – but in reverse

the cousin of begin

& kiss the twists of sylphid mist

a wraith upon the vale

a leper of a letterbox

& brush the foxes’ tail

as breezes blow & weasels crow

& thickets disappear

a conker fell upon the path

& so the bend is here

( oh, bollocks )

…

yesterday is tomorrow’s today

~

yesterday is tomorrow’s today ( yadot s’worromot si yadretsey )

…

then fledgling phoenixes

stage left & right turn

them from the ashes

of another dry ice age

breathe like a bicycle

fly like a mole

bite the bullet’s hole

before the trigger is triggered

time is like octopuses

on a bouncy castle

dodge the phantom rain clouds

hiding in the sun’s shine

tudor computers

neolithic portals

yawns of a morning

sleeping ’til the evening

so, robotic romans

saturn spins both ways

spanners, anvils, calendars

circles, whirrs & banisters

hammers, hammocks, kippers red

hamsters haddock in the head

easter was a phantom land

& bring your own sandwiches

…

september or bust

~

september or bust  ( tsub ro rebmetpes )

…

 

 

a hymn again beyond the fog

with pissing rain, the earth’s a bog

 

a gurgled splodge, a sodden trudge

of mother mud & chocolate fudge

 

the bouncing ground’s a trampoline

the browns & greens of in between

 

a trundle sees the orchards hang

a mutant hue, a boomerang

 

& england spins, the branches shake

as petals snow & phantoms wake

 

a feather falls upon the fro

the gardens lark as breezes crow

 

& all is balls, the squirrels scry

& blather nuts – the bend is nigh

 

the summery is crystal blear

the bumbles bee – ’til autumn’s here

…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

light be there let

~

light be there let  ( tel ereht eb thgil  )

…

 

can the goblins see me?

but the wind is plasticine

she is not an octopus

then the seventh century

soaring with the goshawks

underneath the garden

are there swans in swansea?

on a magic carpet

born before the cod wars

february the fifty fifth

farmers farting parsnips

bees in aberdeen

sod a soggy michaelmas

yet the lemon cheesecake

sings another songbook

love me like a mayfly

…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

dim dawdles

~

dim dawdles  (  seldwad mid  )

…

 
sofa comatose
then a stumble rose

mumble in the clear
balladeer of bones

middle night is bright
bolting poltergeist

owl a sound & scape
squawk within a walk

play within a plot
crystal chrysalis

‘fore the yawns of dawn
silver trails of snails

scattering of ash
tattered scraps of maps

pissing in this mist
cabbage anorak

squirms within a book
rain upon the brain

sun is underneath
gleams until the eaves

scumbled umbra hue
leas in lieu of green

warble walrus roar
witch within a ditch

lark in gargled dark
marbled stars of sight

sprite the yellow moon
blooming over hills

purple purring breeze
shapes of phantom badgers

bend is swirling in
spin me back to sleep
…

 

 

( author notes )

the moon was yellow last night

& she looked lovely

…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

august a chorus

~

august a chorus  (  surohc a tsugua  )

…

 

dust is a feather

flutters ‘n’ fleeting

rust is the tether

the deign of the done

 

laugh is a ladder

adders ‘n’ weeping

ink in the bladder

a snail on the run

 

salad’s a tosser

weasels ‘n’ weaving

cannons ‘n’ fodder

the kiss of a nun

 

pied is the piper

drummers ‘n’ beating

time is a tiger

the cream in y’ bun

 

scrawl is a trooper

easter is sleeping

shoot the computer

a laser, a gun

 

dawn is a walrus

even is creeping

august a chorus

& fade with the sun

…

 

 

 

 

4.44 a.m

~

4.44 a.m  (  m.a 44.4  )

…

 

as the turquoise cat

& the boy

from under the sofa

 

play a yellow cello

on the tip

of your left elbow

 

as the purple moon

in the corner

of the pantry

 

wails a tale of whales

in the kippers

of the morning

 

& the snoring shrew

in the shoe

beyond it all – or

 

clouds of thereabouts

over ghosts

of underneath

 

where the chorus crows

in the swirling

of a circle

 

as a mountain hare

pips the innards

of a pear

 

( so there )

…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

four voles

~

four voles ( selov ruof )

…

~

four voles ( selov rouf )

…

 

one swan sings a song

two shrews sniffing glue

three fleas leap a tree

four voles – on a stroll

…

 

 

( author notes )

& apparently

according to

the stats

the most popular

name

for a hamster

last year

was barry

with 97.8 %

of all males

& 87.3 %

of all females

named barry

throughout the world

& on the moon

too

which must have been

a fantasy

back in the nineties

but we’re the modernest

( relatively speaking )

yet

so there

p.s

i made that

hamster fact up

but hopefully you

already knew that

& this is what passes

as a joke

’round my way

– cheers

…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ffo gnidnuos

~

ffo gnidnuos  ( sounding off )

…

 

never eat shredded wheat

the midlands is a buffer-zone

only troll the b.b.c

& n.p.c’s on twatter

karens, cunts & cannibals

weasels of this human zoo

monkey-skunks with tongues of dung

bitching shit in village pubs

alcohol is muppet juice

wear a pair of rubber boots

leather is the skin of death

meat is callous carnage

kiss the twists of river mist

adders lie in pasture’s grass

i am not y’ fucking gimp

stick y’ mask up y’ ass

gold is old but silver’s birch

words are birds & butterflies

ash is flash & oak’s a cloak

from sping – until the autumn

war’s a scam & all’s a stage

convid is a ponzi scheme

jesus is an octopus

earth’s an egg & mars is green

venus shines beyond the night

try to write by candlelight

with a quill or fountain pen

faces hide in clouds

sing a hymn in libraries

poetry’s a diary

prosody’s a lottery

the internet is not your friend

…

 

 

 

 

(  author fuckin’ notes )

 

does anyone else remember nostalgic recollections?

i love looking back – to the days when i used to look back

( it’s twice as warm then – with doubly lovely blinkers on )

…