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squidgy in the middle ( a poem for today )
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squidgy sings the bleary lark
stretchy is this day
timid as dormice is dark
swarms of horsefly neigh
poppy crows the how do cock
mallow caws that crow
as the old & gold sun throbs
so them hay fields glow
yonder swoop the ninja swift
as that bracken booms
as the bloody cuckoo spits
bees hum bumbled tunes
speckled is the tickled brain
thistled now are thorns
blonde may riddled summer reign
from this solstice morn
...
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wrong’uns ( a poem ( ? ) )
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i feel the building breeze as see i wheat fields sway so i think of rome aflame & a young theresa may vandalising crops ...
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( some call it gibberish ) ( author notes – i ****in’ wish … )
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mandates, marmosets dum-dee-dum-dee-dee-dum popcorn, leprosy my prize plums penguins, wishing wells wobble-wibble-wooh-hop barnets, barnacles bop-bop-bop flipflops, cauliflowers wabber-dabber-doo-dah cobwebs, fancy pants tra-la-la toenails, monoliths jibber-jabber-doo-doo dodos, bubblewrap yeah-yeah ooh ...
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foxes don’t wear gloves ( an old poem of mine )
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foxes don't wear gloves & i've never seen a bee don a bonnet - in or on it foxes don't wear gloves no, none of the above ...
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say it with chips ( some nonsense )
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out the blue - old chocolate blocks worn to this then falling off make a wish, a micro-wish shoulder fish upon your dish down they come in bits of shot battering the local shops cross your crinkled finger-tips spuds above & say it with chips ...
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part-digested noons ( a shiteku )
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part-digested noons regurgitated wednesdays unsettling times ...
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drub-a-rub-dub ( some shocking news )
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drub-a-rub-dub three men are entangled the butcher, the baker & the man who makes candle stick's - quick, call the press it's a bath-based scandal spotted in a tub - sharing soap bloody shambles ...
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bat flaps & hedgehogs ( a few lines inspired by the pic )
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there's bat flaps & hedgehogs & kicked balls for mad dogs as goosegrass is creeping that backyard needs sweeping the lawn is all rustic the shed door is busted the summer sun's leaving this garden in evening ...
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them & so & so ( too much truth )
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so speak to me of people
of people i don't know
of people that i'll never meet
like them & so & so
& leave no pebble unturned
unleash those anecdotes
it might look like i'm dozing but
i'm writing mental notes
...
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17/6 ( some largely-gibberish inspired ( ishly ) by the picture what i took )
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as d.js in p.js are dreaming in clichés i'm green-phased in three ways sweet f.a as leeway a field day not d-day nor sea change - the wheat sways a breezed wave - a heat haze neath branches the sheep shade ...
resarf poetry 