Poem

clodhopping song

~

clodhopping song ( gnos gnippohdplc )

…

drumming on the mud
rat-a-splat & fiddlesticks
spits a rhythmic thud

plodding of a morn
like the duke of wellington
milk a sopping lawn

kicking sods of turf
sticks & stones & rabbit bones
off the skin of earth

stomping on the leas
nincompoops in blucher boots
as the mizzle pees

prancing in the mist
scrambles as an alibi
scratching something’s gist

dancing on the ground
as the rub of so bellow
murmurs gurgled sound
…

balaclava – baklava

~

balaclava – baklava ( avalkab – avalcalab )

…

as the clouds are howling by
in the rabid autumn sky

& the chills are frisking me
grill an owl or dictionary

sings a swan within the brain
quibbles quizzing on again

balaclava – baklava
how i wonder what you are?

~

one’s a sort of woollen mask
from a battle, since you ask

born in eighteen fifty four
in the great crimean war

& the other is a treat
filled with nuts & honey sweet

baked with layered filo – so
that’s the difference, now you know

…

in a month of mondays

~

in a month of mondays ( syadnom fo htnom a ni )

…

calendars & contours
colanders in kitchen sinks
swans are singing encores

once upon the sequels
gleams the green of in between
snoring with the eagles

pour another tea cup
buttered toast & traffic jam
so the stuttered speak up

storming of a morning
mares within the air & hare
where the stagger’s fawning

anoraks & sun rays
ambles on an ashen path
in a month of mondays

scrambles at the deep end
badgers in the thicket’s thatch
tangled ’til the weekend
…

cloven hoofed yoofs

~

cloven hoofed yoofs ( sfooy defooh nevolc )

…

have you herd the one
about the gangs of cows?

cloven hoofed yoofs
clad in shellsuits

sniffing super glue
marker pens & tipex

skiving off from school
larking in them leas

knocking fences down
patting yon allotments

drinking booze from town
chasing great dane bitches

labradors & spaniels
pugs & humans too

gobbing on badgers
pissing on the footpaths

swagger walk & bugger
all before the slaughter

on the road to death
– what a load of bullocks
…

bonfire

~

bonfire ( erifnob )

…

build with sticks – not stones
bits ‘n’ birch & branch of oak
last summer’s ragwort

brambles, bobs ‘n’ twigs
scrumpled sheets of poetry
nettles & regrets

leaves & sheeple masks
letters from the government
thorns of thicket’s thatch

with a guy atop
effigies of enemies
weasels run the whirled

check for hedgehogs first
badgers, owls & barrels of
rum – or gunpowder

if the ghost is clear
in the darkened garden’s blear
– spark that mother’ up
…

weather or knot

~

weather or knot ( tonk ro rehtaew )

…



a cloaking, crawling dawn

with croaking hints of frog


misting midland mills

wales is silken veils


of shifting, shrouding cloud

& phantom tangent fog


as sneezing scotland coughs

the peas in london’s broth


but breezes weave by nine

– the west’s a stringing vest


& cats & dogs will piss

upon the realms of men


from looe to timbuktu

until the afternoon


the rest ‘s a shining spell

– as satellites foretell

…

on the runs

~

on the runs ( snur eht no )

…

a statue sits in situ
a tasket & – atishoo

as cold as baltic shoulders
a ghoul upon a stool

a pigeon in a prism
as white as winter’s wizard

a ghosty – or a blizzard
& so the oceans flow

from mumbled drums of thunder
’til buckets buckle under

the brown of howling bowel stuff
& mountainsides of shite

i’m inking then of cricket
of bandit men with swag sacks

the speed of a scheming cheetahs
& laser pace of light

…