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wobble juice ( a poetry )
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whiplash orangeade shetland pony hand grenade smacked-up kipper jam ...
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wobble juice ( a poetry )
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whiplash orangeade shetland pony hand grenade smacked-up kipper jam ...
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bleesings count ( a ? )
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birdsong in winter morning dew this evening breakfast for supper sunshine come nightfall ...
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plod-stuff ( a true story )
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our elbows glowed where noses shone us muddled bunch so bumble on through fields of green in sways of still there is no breeze today upon us squelchy sods so yon we plod with thoughts of warts & peas in pods as badgers burst & gardens groan whilst on the road - a toad's skin's shod our ankles itch - is this a gift? we look to lunch as pollen drifts we follow paths & fallow deer as sieve-like minds they gently sift when all is spun a tune a is hummed the back door calls, the walk is done the annals wait to hear of tales beneath a montomic sun ...
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the marmalade is snarling ( a poem )
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the marmalade is snarling
the beast within the spread
the preserve stirs
with almost words
soon it shall rip our bones to shreds
i'm marmafraid, oh darling
let's flee let's we'll be dead
& quickly too
in blurry shoes
for sanctuary & jam instead
...
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blue bewail song ( squint & it’s a bastard tapestry )
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your hamster's toast, your ghost has flown your weasel's popped, your lemon's sucked your badger's burst, your adder's cursed your band has split, your chicken's clucked your orchard's dust, your monkey's nuts your whistle's drowned, your bile is duct your owl has howled, your vole is hole your robin's hood, your friar's tucked your horse is norse, your pasta's past your art is arse, your car is trucked your wings have flapped, your ring has shat your peas are mush, your strings are plucked your cousin's fine, your well is dry your goose is moose, your quack has ducked your heaven's bread, your slugs have fled it's just your luck - ha ha - you're fucked ...
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’twas ( a shiteku 4 u )
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pole dancing pollsters pole vaulting greasy polecats mayday in poland ...
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oh shit ( some piffle )
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cavalier custard magnetic birds are flustered bubble wrap wankers ...
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bee a buzz ( another poem for sunday etc. )
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bee a buzz & beat a drum waft a wasp & whale a song like a pike get on your bike mime in hum & on we swan scale the snake then lime the scum snail a trail & fox the den mouse your holes & post your goals moon the sun then cluck the hen mam in tor then glib the glum clean in sweeps to wake to the boar gap that mind then round the wind stone all plums & snort the spores clap a hand & thunder thumbs spew in shrew - you feel a tit hide those crows right up your nose spin in spun - crack on with it ...
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stat-attack ( some stats )
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every six minutes - a florist shall wilt every ten minutes - a welder shall melt for each earth-hour - five fireman shall drown one in two poems - implode ( oh no ) ...