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the undefeated winter sun by 4 ropy couplets for solstice poetrys
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the branches of the trees are bare of leaves once green in summer fair when hedgehogs sleep - nymphs disappear down to the southern hemisphere the nights are long like war & peace there's whooper swans & there's brent geese the undefeated winter sun the rise of day has re-begun ... ( author notes ) whooper swans & brent geese migrate here for winter that's why they're in it innit ...
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24 hour virus people by get some soup in y’ ( ! )
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24 hour virus people those shivers & those sniffles in the middle of the night feeling tired bunged-up sinus people just give it a day or so tomorrow's looking bright ...
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here be roadworks … ( 16 lines of that poem-shat )
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here be roadworks on this here road pipes & cables watch - heavy loads drilling drilling into the earth no dragons though but hard at work the tardy folk are labouring the folk of road doing their thing the signs are up clearly displayed here be roadworks expect delays ...
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the first poet to time travel ( a brief poemz )
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the first poet to time travel wrote a wonky sonnet in ancient rome briefly called babylon their muse & home then fled to some dome on some planet yet unknown ...
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messing about by the river by by not on
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messing about by the river watching swans just swan along eiders & the odd kingfisher ( humming bits of other's songs ) in the sunlight ripples glisten dazzling my half-arsed eye calm currents they whisper - listen ( lobbed-in beer cans bob on by ) should i find an empty bottle? write a note to float inside? with a quote from aristotle ( a gift for whomever finds ) ' hello you, i'm by the river watching swans just swan along eiders & the odd kingfisher ( a blue swish & then it's gone ) ' ...
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piss off christmas ( my christmas poem )
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then christmas rears
the dark of the year
glib festive twats
shit festive cheer
so spend spend spend
you're dosh fucking shite
it's all a con
for jesus christ
that mortal fraud
yet there's pagan roots
oft ignored when
it doesn't suit
those bibled scum
( they're )
their devil itself
piss off christmas
you're bad for our health
...
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wake-up poem by some pisspot-poet or other
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begin begin
the opening part
act one scene one
the dawn of start
the cock has crowed
then died on his arse
there is no script
it's shit not art
it's not a song
there aren't any words
the cock? piffle
there are no birds
just make it up
go on - have a splurge
mar blank a4
with bastard verse
...
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when dogs seize power … ( a short poemz )
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their days draw near soon dawns the hour when man falls when dogs seize power they'll scoop our poop they'll own us then when treachery is our best friend ...
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re catkins ( a brief postmodern essay )
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they don't purr
& they don't nap
or chase a mouse
or catch a rat
they aint cats
it's trees you fool
they're called catkins
because they're cool
...
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why the brush … by some so & so of so
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a brush with daft a brush with paint a rustic scene warm strokes of quaint a head brush rush a brush with teeth a brush with hair & or chimneys a brush with witch a brush of broom a brush with death that dance of doom the burning brush a foxy tail we scrub-up well brushes prevail ...
resarf poetry 