ebb & flow

~

ebb & flow ( some science & that )



a star is born - a song is sung

a ferret sighs - a bell end's rung

there's frequencies

for all t.vs

a milk pale turns - a guitar's strummed


a badger yawns - a gas lamp glows

the branches nod when mild winds blow

the rivers flee

towards the sea

then comes the rain or sleet or snow


a magpie yawns - fresh dung is flung

there's tingles on my throbbing tongue

there's shaky knees

that's guaranteed

& blossoming when spring has sprung


as fungi spore - it's ebb & flow

i close my eyes & twiddle toes

i feel the breeze

against my knees

then sneeze down wells where echoes go

...















































a surfeit of lampshades

~

p o e t r y  ( 17 line read )



cheapskate poundland paper - bland & blank as snow

kisses shit & tight ink - black as murdered crows

elsewhere swans sing backwards - spits of feathered songs

as dream streams creep upstream - upwards then we row


time to meet thy maker - itch & twiddle toes

slice & dice an onion - briskly knead that dough

bang a foolish gold gong - prance & act that one

wake the ghosts for breakfast when those garden grow


bastard scraps & capers - scarpered as me flow

stick to myths & hearsay - not what folk may know

salmon leap for wisdom - avalon & on

quibbles pose as scribbles - squits of so & so


fruits of vaguely labour - flighty quill winds blow

barley mows & cobwebs - watch them as they glow

write some wrongs etc. where they should belong

as the rain pours buckets

fuck it, here we go

...



















muse news musings

~

muse news musings ( a poem that isn’t about muesli )




your muse is news - the paper cries

as tea mugs steam & low cloud stirs

perhaps the sun will shine my shoes

when light beams through in sudden bursts

i think out loud as pigeons sigh

& bookworms feast on dog-eared words

oh muddled daze of much ado

your gift was but a muddled curse


this much is true yet wild boar glide

as hen fangs rip & dead cats purr

perhaps the moon will mow my lawn

when lowly ink still finds the verse

to buzzard on as swallows dive

& robins bob - observe the birds

my muse is news - no tears weep i

thanks fuck & phew - things have been worse

...















































otter’s pockets

~

otter’s pockets ( 32 lines of wobble )




basket weaving - bastard evenings

dog in clover - eyes in sockets

apples bobbing - pears are peeling

thoughts are swimming - mind myopic

windows smearing - kettle's steaming

multiverses - that's the tonic

poles are flipping - ice is screaming

unplugged t.v - otter's pockets


toast is smoking - piffle's calling

hares are boxing - merry easters

walls are cracking - dawn is snoring

palmate newts are hailing caesars

dozing moments - rarely boring

cheeky monkeys - bloody rhesus

glitter patters on the awning

biblical say saul & peter


gold is hiding - fools are gleaming

there in may was lucy locket

rivers weeping - streams are scheming

foxgloves, bluebells, valves & sockets

night is bright when day is dreaming

verse is birds - bees in their bonnets

tennis ankles - crickets teeming

spitting feathers - brown clouds - top shit


bollocks itching - mice are roaring

multitudes in millimetres

ears have noses - walls are talking

lollipops & lotus eaters

winks are winging - boards are scoring

well dressings as balance teeters

fingers crossed we'll kiss the morning

pyrrhic wins shall not defeat us

...

















































critique-fodder

~

critique -fodder ( a short poem about motherfuckers )




is this a poem?

how about now?

milk the wild thistle

& tickle the cow


is this a poem?

squint as you read

stroke your chin bristle

& wobble your knees


is this a poem?

what do you think?

blow your tin whistle

& lick at the ink


was that a poem?

how did it fare?

did it ring fizzles

& why should we care?

...












































as & &

~

as & & ( 120 syllable read )




as the brown fox leaps the green flea

& fuchsia clang in chimes

as the chainsaw hugs the oak tree

& the blank verse starts to rhyme


as the salt pot shuns the deep sea

& the cyclops leads the blind

as the ibex ride the rough scree

& the faux pas meet landmines


as the feather fights the mild breeze

& the evening blackbird chimes

as the cockerel clucks at chickpeas

& a mist falls in the mind


as the bonnet irks the wild bee

& the millstone feels the grind

just plod on & keep it lively

wanders of another kind

...