…
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
…
Poems
the casting list for the film of your life story
…
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
…
seven more definitions of a poetry
…
~
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
…
one man band split
…
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”
…
also’s uncle
…
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
…
the old & the new
…
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
…
an open letter to a martian penfriend
…
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
…
n-word haiku
.,.
nora’s naughty nap
nestor’s nincompoop nephew
nigel’s nylon nob
…
the long & winding rhododendron
…
still skylarking
as the cat is barking
squirms in y’ journals
mustard cress & colonels
guess the fuckin’ rest then
shaving in the dark
swimming in the depths with
a kraken & a shark
crocus pocus
focus in the locus
spring is on a mattress
with a famous actress
talking to a bishop
wish upon a well
annals, ants ‘n’ flannels
as the badgers yell
sweet pea shooting
as y’ nan is looting
morrisons & budgens
that’ll make the cudgeons
put y’ fuckin’ boot down
cloud a summer day
walk with thee beside me
& squawk beneath the grey
…
prime twats strike again
…
riots when they form
them of masks & clot-shot jabs
those that hoarded bog roll
like a frightened squirrel
them that soiled their pants
& never saw their nan
fighting over cans
of fizzy snake oil
see the pillocks pile on
humping yet clothed
like a bored bullock
on a muggy august morn’
lost of all purpose
like a beached porpoise
kicking off in aldi
whislt i hum vivaldi
look at those battle-bot
normalzzz go
it’s the freakiest
show ( oh-oh )
& cumming fucking soon
to your local shop
what a load of bollocks – it’s
– twats & rip-off pop
…
( author notes )
my poetry prediction for 2023
is that simon armitage
will become alan titchmarsh
& alan titchmarsh will become
simon armitage
–
those two have been merging for years
ever since simon got the laureate gig
but they will become one
& the same
by this time next year
…
resarf poetry 