…
ban banjos
ban banisters
ban banquo’s ghost
ban bandannas
ban the bloody bandstand
ban bandwagons
ban banjaxing bantamweights
ban the banal bandits
ban the banker’s banquet
…
Poem
re boot
…
blücher the future
like a loveable brogue
in the mud or snow
or walking on the shiny moon
– yes, give it some welly
…
may, may
…
may, may
a day & a pole
yes, perhaps a horsy foal
prancing on the pastures
like a young queen camilla
or anne hathaway
– that-a-way beckons
may, may
the aquilegia soar
all is an almond
if reason is the rhyme
then it’s time for swingball
pan faked it all
like an ancient john darwin
may, may
the dead were never dead
said the makeshift scarecrow
to the crickets in the thicket
& the cuckoos in your mind
as a snark sings hymns
in the throbbing hedgerow
may, may
where the gnomes sunbathe
as the milking maids
gargle pink lemonade
barefoot on the garden lawn
dawn is a yellow
wagtail’s egg
may, may
trainers or walking shoes
hoodie not jacket
scibbles in a notepad
gladder than sir galahad
glowing goes my muse
deep green be thy elbows
…
lost in five
…
lo-fi in hi-fi
an astronaut in asda
dry robes in the midlands
pikes on bikes & scooters
bluebirds of inner-earth
…
just that chaffinch
…
yes, i am just that chaffinch
upon your step-godmother’s
vintage bird table
pecking at the stale crusts
of her seedy rye bread
…
the gaps between the trees
…
bend another then
the colour of your elbows
is turning in vernal
~
shades of vivaldi
his pizzas & hotels
or the winter of your mind
~
the gaps between the trees
where the birds bristle
the mistle thrush & robin
~
hoods on & hats down
in the cellar’s cool
cucumber harvest
~
festival fare
maidens & morris men
parsnips & panpipes
~
bursting big cloudy
lemonade bubbles
up from below
~
fibre in each flex
limbs & begin
when forever’s floating
…
testing times
…
kosh o’ clock
quarter past curtains
ten to let’s be ‘avin’ you
every ruddy mayday
s.o.s p.m
…
spaz tick
…
cornflakes & quarter moons
but first a second guess
a golden labrador mat
fifteen across
milk chocolate teapots
seven down now, please
plus the loopholes in your
orthopaedic shoelaces
& those gobby mute swans
…
sodden off
…
last seen lost & wandering
without a cagoule
on a saint swithun’s eve
as the western then blew
grey clouds in some more
…
& other plasma pals
…
unbroken toes
velcro on both elbows
so the odd is off
greener than grass
yesterday’s grey sky
is stuck in the pantry
try diagonal
reallign us right
less trodden footpaths
those beyond the crossroads
the phantom first of many
last quarter moons
afternoons & mud baths
fruit bats & musical
obtuse interludes
beckon like cornflakes
or a flaming moth
& other plasma pals
risen is the oak
the birch is still a burk
pour more coffee
…
resarf poetry 