Poem

technique … ish

~

technique … ish ( hsi … euqinhcet )

…


with leaden legs of stead
within the twists of sylphid mist
a scribble in the head

the mumbles crumb & play
the bumblebees in stumble me
the jumbles of the day

beneath the croaking cloud
or by the sprite of candle’s light
the monologue’s aloud

a play without a plot
a pantomime in underpants
a sort of pissing pot

the scrapes of nature notes
a stoat within a weasel wood
the scrotal scapes of goats

a coma on the run
the lottery of prosody
another smoking pun

i plod the sodden leas
within the wails & scale the dales
a song upon the breeze

& ink the life & times
the rise & scrawl of bugger all
until the fucker rhymes
…


snoitcerid

~

snoitcerid ( directions )

…

wash your hands again

like a modern pontius pilate

no right turn

or your birthday cake will burn

don’t the feed the unicorns

unless you’ve got a licence

best before yesterday

wear a pair of wellys

fly like a nightingale

box with the frogs

stick to the path

like a first class stamp

never eat shredded wheat

god save the badger

bend both knees

on a tuesday afternoon

be a good sheeple

& listen to the government

grow your own potatoes

in a hobbyhorse trough

may contain hazelnuts

& shut the fucking gate

this is not a circular

serve with seasonal greens

…

twenty, twenty, gone

~

twenty, twenty, gone ( enog ,ytnewt ,ytnewt )

…

a roger up the buggered rear
a sausage of a sodding year
a little lizard’s lottery
it’s crystal cricket vision here

a paddle in the riddle’s pooh
another loosened mutant shrew
the flapping karens cancelled me
& nanna got the phantom flu

& so the rabid weasels rained
but cabbage poetry sustained
as muzzles masked the cattle “free”
& planet earth is shackle-chained

the droning global scrotums lie
so more will stumble, fall & die
so let the bumbled normalzzzz bee
& we will spread a butterfly

the road’s a fork, a bendy swan
it’s torque is twenty, twenty, gone
the past’s a rotten apple tree
& inkling scribbles bubble on

& fuck the piddle bucket’s list
with knotted knickers in a twist
the yawning dawn is calling thee
beyond the fog of yonder’s mist
…

all hail the cheese gods

~

all hail the cheese gods ( sdog eseehc eht liah lla )

…

fruits of the socks

the flocks

& the cocoa

babybel ringers

& cadbury crunchies

lovers of chilli

the stink

of a bishop

blue veined stalwarts

chips in a muffin

cheddar or white like

milky bars

– sparkle dark

king of the crackers

the soul of a pizza

queen of hobnobs

& the crack

in penguin biscuits

all hail the cheese gods

& chocolate goddesses

…

blah, blah, corona, blah

~

blah, blah, corona, blah ( halb , anoroc ,halb ,halb )

…

mutants, drones a wojak

on the six o’clock snooze

so the muffled muppets shake

little chickens shitting bricks

there’s a snare within the air

in the absence of a hare

as i shop with cash

with my stubbled chops unmasked

there’s the scars of self-harm

in the startled eyes of cattle

& a gap between the ears

in the year of the weasel

in a two ‘n’ middle eight

of a wank swansong

when the cult of science spins

so the hermits stroke their chins

there’s a star before the dawn

in the marbles of the morning

but the normalzzz is a wall

& the fucker will not fall

ruddy worms in every can

irk the squirms within my journals

words gather dust

like nightingale hospitals

…

the storm in my eyes is only your shadow

~

the storm in my eyes is only your shadow ( wodahs ruoy ylno si seye ym ni mrots eht )

…

there on the spot

where all hinterlands cross

fingers in knots

crystalline air

– snow, if you must

& butter my toast

with your sweet toe jam

in between deep green

runner bean daydreams

is a dead red door

sort of metaphor

yet the cycle spanners

with a siskin song

& a badger in the bracken

will the dogwood bark

if the alder catkins purr?

paper planes sail then

underneath solo

pear tart harpsichord

in the other-other garden

there is a parsnip

that never parps out

owls in the background

let them eat jaffa cakes

…

twelve daze of yulemas

~

twelve daze of yulemas ( sameluy fo ezad evlewt )

…

twelve elves in shell suits

bobbing in the woodland

eleven ewes are loose

– there’s a goose with a gun

ten winter wrens

if the pickled pen says so

nine pints of water

from the spring before the river

eight middle eights

in a shitty christmas songbook

seven pheasant feathers

in the field behind the graveyard

six zip cardigans

knitted by the pixie folk

five chocolate coins

in lieu of legal tender

four androids

for every human here

three ducks waddle

on the bridge beside the weir

two sharp pebbles

from the innards of my shoe

& a parnsip in a parp

from the bandstand in my bottom

…