Poetry

an assortment of wobbles

~

an assortment of wobbles ( some poemz )

…




another daze - another wobble

sprained is day yet on she hobbles

maelstroms suck

fat turkey's gobbles

puddles muddle

pigeons squabble



oh yonder dales beyond those windmills

with the sound of the bastard hills

resonate

rattle windowsills

turn my biro

into a quill



save mater earth & keep bees on it

stationary supersonic

shanks's pony

plate tectonic

clubfoot sandwich

language phonics



save the slogan & jellied quibbles

bad shrew jokes - byzantine riddles

piggys in the

midst of middles

dogs called god

& cats called tiddles

...

dear little bird

~

dear little bird ( 4 quatrains for the year’s first actual tuesday )

…


dear little bird pecking my brain

you feather not these flighty thoughts

you are no bird - this truth is sane

the rest is of less-sketchy sorts


them pencils & them pads are mad

my inky eyes are on the blink

now straining as that world of fact

this is how i normally think


so peck away & do your worse

like edgy free-verse about death

pretend that you're a birdy curse

pretend that you are worth the breath


of uttering some veiled response

as if i give a piece of piss

so maybe you were haiku once?

i care not ( beyond writing this )

...

lines on milton keynes

~

lines on milton keynes ( 4 couplets )

…




i've never been to milton keynes

it never shows up in my dreams


i've heard the cows are concrete there

down the m1 - down south, somewhere


but maybe someday i shall go

to this future mutant ghetto


wander its streets, pop in its shops

hang out with them strontium dogs

...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the month of jan

~

( the month of jan by the right-reverend jan uary )

…



the month of jan

when plans began

snow white rabbits

pinch punch - ow man


perhaps begun?

the head's still spun

the bare bones of

time's skeleton


begin afresh

the same old mess

biscuits - risk it

each step's a guess


still miss & hit

trapdoors 'n' tricks

but early days

( don't shit them bricks )

...

new year confusion

~

new year confusion ( 24 lines of that there poemz-shat )

…




the year is dead

long live the year

the month of jan's

two-faced head rears


there's rain outside

on new year's day

december's piss

washes away


down dated drains

everything's old

everything's new

old tales untold


where be my head?

i am confused

oh mulberries

time's spiked my juice


it's early days

but is it though

- oh look, a ghost

strange shades they glow


unseen before

by mortal eyes

i give up on

the whats & whys

( ? )

...

dick’ead has gone

~

dick’ead has gone ( 12 lines of reality )

…




dick'ead has gone - peace is restored

back to prison

a month or four


each irked road has a dick'ead there

at least one dick

they're everywhere


in some ideal world on some street

they'd be neighbours

life would be sweet


a border drawn like lines in sand

there they'd kick-off

in dick'ead land

...