Poetry

bumblebees ‘n’ bailing twine

…

scatter graphs ‘n’ happenstance
havoc as the badgers dance

cattle prods ‘n’ cotton socks
morris men in floral frocks

mental notes ‘n’ floating ghosts
as the rubber chicken roasts

morning calls ‘n’ even falls
when the then is tennis balls

rackets whack ‘n’ spinsters spin
in the endings of begin

paper planes ‘n’ avenues
loosened shrews ‘n’ screws in shoes

bumblebees ‘n’ bailing twine
once upon a swan of mine

sods below ‘n’ odd above
wronging songs for you – my love

…

( author notes )

for future reference

this poem was written during

the great unsafe concrete scare

of 2023

…

my spurting life

…

pentacles & on

uninserting swords

      lettuce letterheads

      lattice crisscrosses

mightier is now

udderly a cow

      see the season’s shapes

      shifting like a shuck

should’s in coulda’s wood

shitting with the pope

      where the bears undance

      wicked whims of men

sleep is silken threads

rubber chickens cluck

      chaffinches chatter

      luck be a layby

so a bungalow

hi-fi hermitage

      foxtrot firmament

      ox-eyed daisy chains

she’s a secret door

pecking pukka ups

      i’m an either or

      closet knight of cups

…

sketch up

…

then on a bench, quenching when

plums from the rucksack, mossy anus

rustic nuts, copper beech rustles

sine wave function, cockapoodle hoop

hierophant sneezes, wood pigeon swoop

to-do troubadour, a-roads whispering

waterproof shoes, grey cobweb morning

thunderless singsong, strike before lightning

endlessly elephant, pen nibs nibble

section f, eight ’til eleven

athlete’s footnote, seventeen reasons

…

saladcadabra

…

hashtag terry’s
chocolate orangutan

instant calmer seesaw
& the cat shat

on the mathematics
harpsichord happenstance

mini cheddar gorge
gorgons in love

wormwood cottage
blowfly bungalow

five red robin hoods
raspberry pageantry

typeface the music
ooze another tuesday

who ate all the
pied wagtails?

…

other than the nothing

…

up again all nightmare
but the sun’s a sausage

sleepless is a friend of mine
we play musical chairs

with the village weasels
& pigs who sleep all day

while we walk the yawnings
of another morn’s daze

hazy’s my middle name
see the swifts gathering

up & in the ash tree
by the railway crossing

eyes & dotted t’s, please
fingers clutching something

other than the nothing
burger of the bugger’s

sods instead of oddness
but this is not normalzzz

so we roger not – no
portals call instead so

climb another anthill
me, myself & ivy

scribble in a notebook
float beyond the botlings

…

( author notes )

yes, the swifts were gathering
this morning, dear reader

well over a hundred
darting ninja stylee

they must be getting ready
to go back to africa

they were swirling around
almost like a murmuration

i’ve never seen anything
quite like it – no

then back into the same
ash tree they sat

top that for an auspicious marvel

…