oh, those fucking poetz

~

oh, those fucking poetz ( zteop gnikcuf esoht ,ho )

…

posturing ponces with song in their bonces

mutants of music if rhythm esconces

humming ‘n’ strumming a pen’s instrumentals

lepers with pencils, the notes of the mentalz

scrotes of a morning, the welkin is yawning

clatter is calling if bollocks is dawning

nattering nutters, a sputter of clutter

trolling the normalz, the scrawls of the other

blithering babbles, a swan for the annals

supping not nectar – but dross from the barrels

witches ‘n’ wizards which sunbathe in blizzards

wailing ‘n’ howling the out of the innards

stoats in a forest of badgers ‘n’ weasels

dancing on sabbaths, the ill in illegals

tossers ‘n’ dossers, the scum of the earthen

burn all the poets, the beasts of this burden

– fuckers

…

oh, those bloody poemz

~

oh, those bloody poemz ( zmeop ydoolb esoht ,ho )

…

catch a feather pen
when the breeze is blowing so
as remember’s embers glow
squid the nib & then

sputterings of dust
spanners, spins ‘n’ spatulas
colanders ‘n’ calendars
rummages ‘n’ rust

scatterings of ash
passengers on paper planes
wobbles on a cobbled lane
scratches of a rash

aches ‘n’ scrapes of scrotes
jottings in a tosser’s log
tangents in the phantom fog
shapes of nature’s notes

music is the glue
oddness is an odyssey
prosody’s a lottery
fuck it, that’ll do

piddles in a pad
sinking with the kitchenette
piffle on the internet
scribbles of the mad
…

inner-nutshell ( & out the other )

~

inner-nutshell ( & out the other ) ( ( rehto eht tuo & ) llehstun-renni )

…

swans upon an interim

summer hums a winter hymn

wither weaves a tapestry

sputters dust ‘n’  flams the flim

~

in the realm of mizzle men

misery’s a piffle pen

rasps a gasping raspberry

whelms the whim of fizzle then

~

when the wren is but a crow

rivers run a backwards flow

flutter by the banks & see

sunken suns, an afterglow

~

broken odes & mirror lands

finger food for phantom hands

screwing loosened shrews in me

kitchen sinks in sinking sands

~

in between the peaking trough

whispers in the breezes scoff

dangle from a branching tree

spins the snug of bugger off

~

flopping forth in flaccid rain

death is pecking on the brain

storming like a cup of tea

’til the scribbles strike again

…

the things we sniff

~

the things we sniff ( ffins ew sgniht eht )

…

petrichoral earth
when the rain falls dry

terror in the eyes
of the muzzled mask-brigade

buns in the oven
bakers up the duff

onions in the pan
after weeping their demise

recycled garbage
parped from the pulpit

doom on the snooze
& the b.b.c’s bullshit

roses up noses
sing a ring o’ death

petals in the breeze
on the wheezing, sneezing air

milk, if it’s off
sulphur from a ghost

cheese in me socks
or grilled on toast

soup on simmer
metal, if we smelt it

farts from the arse
of the croupier that dealt it
…

sight for jigsaw eyes

~

sight for jigsaw eyes ( seye wasgij rof thgis )

…

three treecreepers

up a silver birch

      six missed calls

      on a walk in the mist

forms on the water

but nothing underneath

      by the blanks of the river

      on a paper plane day

lights in the sky

like a lantern in flight

      is this a crack

      as a schism of a vision?

farthings on footpaths

gravel in shoes

      screamers in the supermarket

      munch on his lunch break

muzzled masses gasping

cattle on the loose

      a goosegrass rash

      in the shape of a goose

deer in the village

nearer than before

      roe does roaming

      on reconnaissance missions

…

who are your favourite poets?

~

who are your favourite poets? ( ?steop etiruovaf ruoy era ohw )

…

mercury in retrograde

songbook worm squirm’s

great uncle phosphorous

sulis-minerva

chocolate & cheeses

petals on breezes

gemini mind trick’s

wet paint signs

hymns from a mirror land

trad-anon folk shit

all dawn choruses

goblins & walruses

normies, for the comedy

river mist mizzle

the gist of a list

& those pillocks on the internet

( hello )

…

plunder & spillage

~

plunder & spillage ( egallips & rednulp )

…

boris is a johnson

but today is buttercups

–

ingrown toenails

& filthy flemish folk songs

~

candles waxing lyrical

wing until a miracle

–

let there be libraries

& bees beneath bonnets

~

i am not a carlist

or a cartouche character

–

do you do voodoo

every other tuesday?

~

where the air is savoury

sweeter than a pea

–

streaming silver trails

– oh, those supersonic snails

~

if it’s red ahead

then the students need re-schooling

–

let them eat cacus

& other roman ogres

~

let the seekers seek

sunshine & shower gel

–

lost backdoor keys

& man-eating owls

…