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‘erb mix challenge ( some ‘erb-verse )
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get mixin' 'erbs against the clock the 'erb preserves tick tock - don't stop bundles of 'erbs tied with 'erb twine oh no, too late - you've run out of thyme - ...
Poetry
notes on wankers
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notes on wankers ( could be anyone really … ? )
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wankers drive mazdas & smart carts & saabs wankers drink carling & stella artois too many taches but rarely a beard wankers are boring they shun all things weird wankers are vermin they're plague-bearing rats wankers are dick'eads they're tossers & twats wankers are special in their wanker heads wankers are wankers enough has been said ...
the old cesspit
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the old cesspit ( some shit what i wrote )
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the castle's gone there ruins lie the village well has long since dried time dawdles on into the night ( but ) the old cesspit still stinks of shite ...
( a green spell )
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( a green spell )
( s o m e – g r e e n – m a g i c )
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then i am green i come in peas sick parrots & the holly's leaves the broccili eyed monsters see this martian piss reverend green jack in the green his grocer - ies yon clovered four or maybe tea those jealous seas astroturfed treez a crystal heart emerald beats plus some algae graham plus e et cetera cress lettucely the stalk of beans oh rosemary that dragon shat then i am green ...
sea epiphany
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sea epiphany ( why don’t we think of these things sooner ? )
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well the epiphany it came to me beside the sea as i saw its water glimmer ~ poetry's a hermit crab jesus was an octopus & the rest is done with mirrors ...
the real archbishop of canterbury
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the real archbishop of canterbury ( a true tail not tale )
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i am the real archbishop of canterbury ignore those imposters you see on t.v the robert runcies & the justin welbys they're scheming you senseless conniving they be i've never been to canterbury actually my clothes are no robes - black tee shirts, tracky beez i'm unsure on god but i know she's a she ( yet ) i am the real one - come flock follow me ...
a solo effort
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a solo effort ( some verse of )
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yet when the moon doesn't help
& them chuckles hide in puddles
as it's too puzzled by itself
when them words are all befuddled
as the day's gravel 'n' gravy
hence then the birdsong's gone confused
& so grey's the may in maybe
pray tell us
what then do we do
( ? )
...
the return of spring-heeled jack
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the return of spring-heeled jack ( a true tale in a poemz-formz of )
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i saw him leap from roof to roof he does exist - there goes the proof that wicked cloak & bouncy boots it must be he - who can refute? gravity's strong but he prevails still nimble now & no less frail gasps of wonder lie in his trail & frightened types like lucy scales sightings have re-spread - towns, cities keep them eyes peeled - it might be he a true folk legend there to see in the twenty first century remain cautious - he might attack perhaps he slept? let's stick to facts it's been a while but yes he's back it's the return of spring-heeled jack ...
poetry spiked my tea
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poetry spiked my tea ( a true tale of woe-be-me )
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poetry spiked my tea so i'm flightier than thee aye & now i can see our world quite differently what once was seen as bland it is now somehow quite grand with my quilled pen in hand my friends don't understand they assume i'm a loon a twat bored-mad by the moon poetry spiked my tea ( i hope it wears-off soon ) ...
stat-shat
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stat-shat ( some a poetry of )
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yes statistically speaking
we're all more likely to die
from strikes of lightning
from the static-charged sky
if we're already choking
on a bay leaf - yeah - or five
plus have athlete's foot
& yet no one knows why
( ? )
...
resarf poetry 