~
fare thee well ( llew eeht eraf )
…
it’s time to ride the diamond turnip
pie above the turtle doves
flying in the ocean’s lotions
scratch another cannonball
swan beyond the otter’s porridge
grease the knees of eventide
chase the changeling’s mutant poodle
smoothly – like a slimy lamprey
– shake the milky way
…
~
cometh the gone ( enog eht htemoc )
…
after the spanners
tangles in brambles
scatters & scrambles
back in the yon
blistering ankles
scratching the haddock
naps in a hammock
spin avalon
saturn in patches
spaces in annals
faces in flannels
summer’s the don
jam in the jangles
letters & lettuce
cress in a crevice
salad & on
cabbages clatter
clutter & under
mumbles of thunder
cometh the gone
morning is crawling
autumn is calling
fog of a morning
singing a swan
…
~
notes on death ( htaed no seton )
…
slip inside a night
brighter than a deep sleep
speckled flashing reds
& warm orange orbs
all the proper dogs
not the yapping rats
clarions & carrion
sirens sing a b-side set
bean green handstands
& ever-gloaming oceans
sinking in a sofa
glowing in a coma
blossoming a winter
float beyond the glossary
pen of yellow then
blooming blue infinitude
…
~
the cousin of bread ( daerb fo nisuoc eht )
…
a breakfast friend
the cousin of bread
a knife in hand
& butter is spread
a scrunching lunch
a supper, a tea
with margarine
& runny honey
a scented star
the king of the crunch
a bed f’ beans
a pinch & a punch
the chief of charred
a hymn in the air
the king of crisp
& chairman of yeahhh
a fibrous sprite
a round of the brown
a glue f’ pooh
& gobble it down
a sort of nod
a cheer & a sup
& disappear
the bottoms of up
a slice of slang
for that which is done
the fucked, the dead
the buggered ‘n’ spun
a sign, a post
& rhymer of ghost
or northernmost
– this poem is toast
…
…
~
goodnight, auntie ( eitnua ,thgindoog )
…
she mewls & spools & spews
her dribble, dross & floss
a crippled morning yawns
& mizzled afternoons
are shite as creeping night
the day’s a double daze
in sinking shades of beige
& lumpen london’s greys
her snuffled evening snooze
a minion’s ministry
of george’s blooming truth
as two plus bloody two
is never ruddy four
it’s flippin’ five – divide
& hide from weasels – run
the ‘rona sniffles spin
a coma of a sun
her gloaming jokes are woke
& total scrotal wank
as saville’s rancid ghost
hangs over – seek & see
a flapping phantom black
a laughing rabid rat
she bit the feeding hand
& bleeding britain winced
the rotter’s coffers pinch
& this old, little bitch
can frig quisling herself
& leach not offa me
the rest is sweat in stone
a nave beneath a grave
so fuck the b.b.c
…
~
seasonal greens ( sneerg lanosaes )
…
fields become marshes
martians harvest broccoli
a frog in the fog
…
~
a conker fell ( llef reknoc a )
…
a conker fell upon the path
a feather & a leaf
upon the soft & sodden ground
– the lightness of a thief
& ponder i upon a plod
is this a sort of nod?
a mirror land of sinking sand
a portent & a sod
a bugger of the rectal rim
a spanner up the arse
a bounder of a bouncing bean
until the green is sparse
the roundabouts of out again
with knickers in a spin
a vernal verse – but in reverse
the cousin of begin
& kiss the twists of sylphid mist
a wraith upon the vale
a leper of a letterbox
& brush the foxes’ tail
as breezes blow & weasels crow
& thickets disappear
a conker fell upon the path
& so the bend is here
( oh, bollocks )
…
~
yesterday is tomorrow’s today ( yadot s’worromot si yadretsey )
…
then fledgling phoenixes
stage left & right turn
them from the ashes
of another dry ice age
breathe like a bicycle
fly like a mole
bite the bullet’s hole
before the trigger is triggered
time is like octopuses
on a bouncy castle
dodge the phantom rain clouds
hiding in the sun’s shine
tudor computers
neolithic portals
yawns of a morning
sleeping ’til the evening
so, robotic romans
saturn spins both ways
spanners, anvils, calendars
circles, whirrs & banisters
hammers, hammocks, kippers red
hamsters haddock in the head
easter was a phantom land
& bring your own sandwiches
…
~
oh, cauliflowers ( srewolfiluac ,ho )
…
when the dusted speckled hen
spots the rusted lion’s den
when the evening spiral’s fly
spiders weaving in y’ eye
when the tartan garden lark
snarks a bark – & harken – hark
then the piffle pigeons roar
– all the little piglets soar
…
( author notes )
the picture is some runner beans
…
~
september or bust ( tsub ro rebmetpes )
…
a hymn again beyond the fog
with pissing rain, the earth’s a bog
a gurgled splodge, a sodden trudge
of mother mud & chocolate fudge
the bouncing ground’s a trampoline
the browns & greens of in between
a trundle sees the orchards hang
a mutant hue, a boomerang
& england spins, the branches shake
as petals snow & phantoms wake
a feather falls upon the fro
the gardens lark as breezes crow
& all is balls, the squirrels scry
& blather nuts – the bend is nigh
the summery is crystal blear
the bumbles bee – ’til autumn’s here
…
resarf poetry 