…
oh, my lucky penny
was found on a dung heap
as lightning struck
up the hairy anus cheeks
of brown fingered me
on the cusp of world war three
or so the papers claim
as the mad wind howled
& a big branch fell
from a silver birch tree
& snared us like a hare
with concussion for good measure
so it rained dead crows
& the new moon laughed
at my lucky penny
& lucky old me
…
…
a morning pooh
one’s duty
the math & the maths
the funky chicken
the fandango
the strand
a nine mile walk
the washing up
your mum
my dirty work
& a poem
…
…
corvids caw on corners
catnapping catkins snore
so snow became so-so
cane sugar plum goblins
glowing in unknown shades
bash the bishop’s door off
…
…
mum – dame helen mirren
dad – chevy chase
you as a boy – flat eric
your best friend then – pingu
the vicar – shane richie
your old lolliop lady – scary spice
your old school bully – a scarecrow nicked from the fields
uncle graham – jackie chan
auntie edith – eddie izzard
your old woodwork teacher – sting ( singer or wrestler )
your driving instructor – kermit the frog
your second-cousin’s neighbour – mister t
the ombudsman’s secretary – nigella lawson
the king of ruritania – ainsley harriot
the duchess of xanadu – kylie minogue
your frisbee-golf coach – the honey monster
your arch-nemesis – adam woodyatt
the archbishop of canterbury – lulu
doctor harold shipman – twat hancock
your electroshock therapist – ozzy osbourne
alan titchmarsh – brief cameo ( in a dream sequence )
your beautiful wife – a blow-up crash-test dummy
the voice of your hamster, clarence – ian mcshane
you grown up – the ghost of roger moore
…
…
~
a gravy train
without the gravy
or the train
~
a lost b-side
that even the drummer’s
forgotten about
~
a scribbled sneeze
a snotty breeze
of bless you
~
the life & times
of a true gobshite
the musical – on ice
~
a sausage role
not double ell
but oh-ell-eeh
~
the reason why
the dragonfly
breathes fire
~
or a turd of words
that we plop online
after logging on
…
…
after the spanners of
the backstage brawl
over groupies, hygiene
royalty payments
& who should sit where
on the coach / bus
the one man band
broke apart – split up
his left arm’s in rehab
frozen turkey cold
getting off the calpol
the benylin & tizer
climbing spinning walls
somewhere in antartica
his chest is at rest
in a green death cult
his right arm’s gone solo
& gospel-techno-metal
it slagged off all the others
in the n.m.e
his arse is soiled & foiled again
his legs have formed a duo
they’re working on new material
– acid skiffle beats
his nob still plays the bongos
& tours with harry styles
his chin is writing a novel
& still keeps in touch with his tongue
both his cauliflower ears
– are now a serving mayor
left in daventry
plus the right in aberdare
his belly button’s
on reality t.v
big ballroom dancing
in the jungle kitchen
in a recent press release
his head just said
“good riddance”
…
…
seventeen lapwings
candlemas cake tins
eighteen greylags
mister kipling’s caves
mister kipling’s caves
inside spongy earth
spongiform tuesday
telepathic pangolin
telepathic pangolin
mung bean in between
bleak cheese chatterings
shotgun michaelmas
shotgun michaelmas
colonel mustard’s gas
measles, myself &
madrigal matchsticks
madrigal matchsticks
frisbees in breezes
lemon thyme travel
herbal garden imp
herbal garden imp
ninety nine kings
forty four cormorants
seventeen lapwings
…
…
hot is the new cold
quiet is the new loud
gay is the new straight
sweet is the new sour
blokes are the new birds
low is the new high
far is the new near
here is the new there
apple is the new pear
where is the new when
what is the new how
war is the new peace
died suddenly
is the new expected
dark is the new light
lark is the new owl
science is the new god
normalzzz is the new odd
fingers are the new toes
toads are the new frogs
cats are the new dogs
fat is the new thin
king is the new queen
float is the new flight
old is the new new
open is the new shut
gnu is the new impala
poets are the new cool
shite is the new good
but m.a.ps are still nonces
…
…
dear green keith
the mayor of mid-cydonia
where the air is ares
on the ruddy red planet
i hope you fixed that leak
in your pyramid loft
& christmas went okay
( it’s just as shit on earth )
the weather here is wet
which suits the duck in me
– is it sunny there
in your neck of the solar-wood?
how’s your ten-headed
foxhound called portia?
do you still garden?
are you on social media?
or should we dredge the canals?
have you moved to the moon?
it’s been six million years
so please reply quite soon
…
.,.
nora’s naughty nap
nestor’s nincompoop nephew
nigel’s nylon nob
…
resarf poetry 