photography

nans above ( ! )

~

nans above ( ! )  (  a  p o e m  &  a  p i d d l e  )

…




some folk dismay at clouds of grey

they blight the sky or so they say


some sorts despair when grey clouds loom

& then they shout prepare for doom ( ! )


but those clouds were once white then time

it took that toll - 'tis true this rhyme


don't curse the next grey cloud you see

respect their seniority

...

the greats are dull

~

the greats are dull  (  t o o  m u c h  t r u t h  i n  1 6  l i n e s  )

…




the greats are dull

the classics bore

it's no wonder

most folk ignore


this poetry

it doesn't help

its veiled self or

anyone else


this much is clear

yet on things plod

like michaelmas

or dogs in clogs


yon sun still shines

that wind still blows

this poem's shite

( at least i know )

...

clone poem

~

clone poem  (  a  p o e m  )

…




there's clones

of clones

of clones

of clones

of clones

of clones

of clones

of clones


of clones

of clones

of clones

of clones

of clones

of clones

as clones

of clones


of clones

of clones

of clowns

with cones

& yet

they're drones

& clones

of clones


of clones

of clones

who cloned

the clones

they're clones

of clones

so on

it goes

( like bro

ken toes )

...

 

dear athlete’s foot,

~

dear athlete’s foot,  (  a  p o e m  )

…





so shudder earth or maybe not

the sun is cold - the poles are hot

your earlobes glowed like magic pearls

on samhain eve

spirals unfurl


erm truths hide in wrong barks up trees

yes, barns can't dance - dark history

it peppers all as plague un-fussed

or duckpond ducks

but still this rust


as blackholes suck then elsewhere spew

some fuckin' dick'ead jumps the queue

stray birds live here, their roost has flown

the kettle's gay

( i've always known )


so on we plod our different ways

lone calendars proclaim our days

great salmon leap yet onions weep

until again

there's dreams, our sleep

...

today isn’t christmas

~

today isn’t christmas  (  a n  o b s e r v a t i o n  )

…





no twats in santa hats

are drinking & toasting

this script is a blank page

no murder is roasting


less forced-fun - more freedom

no hellibore's blooming

the shops are dead quiet

& all's unassuming


no snow only blossom

no church bells are ringing

no god-bothering choirs

just vernal birds singing


it's mid-may you wanker

don't fret yourself shitless

there's ages to go yet

today isn't christmas

( phew )

...