~
there may be ghost tales … ( a warning )
…
up on yon moorland amid eerie fog where heather grows so by y'oldey peat bogs beyond the tree-line where cautious owls hoot there may be ghost tales & legends to boot ...
photography
musings on the arts
~
musings on the arts ( a hmmm )
…
most of it's shit some of it's alright occasionally it's brilliant ( but ) most of it's shit ...
( then )
~
( then ) an obz er vation
…
yet when does winter become spring? as nutjob snowdrops bloom through snow? as buds begin their blossoming? when birds sing so ( they seem to know ) ...
mind your language
~
mind your language ( some spillage )
…
" mind your language " said my head's brain in silent thought confusion reigns who's thinking who? what's doing what? the plot thickens dot - dot - dot - dot ...
beethoven’s van
~
beethoven’s van ( some poem )
…
a man with a van is a man of the van ludwig van man beethoven man van of the man orchestrate hands conducting van man of the van ( ludwig van man ) ...
not joe king
~
not joe king by not joe king
…
i'm not joe king who is joe king? perhaps it's jo? don't know a thing are they real-real? a bird or bloke? pray - are they wise? - do they know any jokes - ( ? ) ...
help us lord moses …
~
help us lord moses … ( by professor gavin saw-dust )
…
belly button fluff & that stuff between our toes oh where does it come? no, nobody knows it tastes disgusting is it a gift in disguise? we can't smoke it either this is manna from the whys ...
good for bobbins
~
good for bobbins ( some tree appreciationals )
…
good for bobbins starts the ogham among treed folk plenty of 'em they're the organ woods are churches drink their rich sap silver birches ...
esoteric chaffinches
~
esoteric chaffinches ( some shit by me for all yous out theres )
…
yes sunday is the curate's egg
the synergy of gathered time
it's energy - our shattered heads
the weathering of battered rhymes
its gravy flowing through our veins
those crumbles in our custard creams
a gentle tap upon our brains
et déjà vu within our dreams
it's esoteric chaffinches
& pretty maids all in a row
all puzzled polecat - laughing fish
& television comatosed
it's drunken uncles stuck up trees
long strolls along the edge's span
tis one for you - fifteen for me
it's babychamed diazepamed
...
( occasionally )
~
( occasionally ) ( an observation in rhyme )
…
yes sometimes they're a swan
gliding down the garrone
when they're not dead round
in y'old avalon
& sometimes they're planets
there arranged in night's sky
when they're un-nested
or faint nebulae
tickling our wide-pie-eyes
muddying our said-heads
or they're chesterfield
when not beside beds
plus maybe you're one too
you're foolish like april
( but )
occasionally all of
those tables are tables
...
resarf poetry 