Dear Nature,
just a few words
about the birds
…
Cuckoos shouldn’t spit
in public,
let alone leave it
lying around on the ground
.
I think treecreepers should experiment
more with bushes,
& maybe learn to cook
& finally get ’round to writing that book
.
& why do owls
insist on asking
whose there all the time
?
I’ve never an owl
for a light or spare change
or is this pellet yours or mine
?
Other than the above,
I think you’re doing brilliantly
.
Yours sincerely,
anonymous fan
….
This poem sniffs moss
& drinks from troughs,
& picks up feathers
& pisses by hedges
.
This poem chats to stoats
& thinks that gravel floats,
& loves well dressings & bell ringing
but never saw the point in fell running
.
This collects stamps
& yet stamps on ants
& steals cheese from pantries
& likes to up the ante
.
Because this poem is a mish mash
probably as a result of witchcraft,
or to be more precise- a pad & pen
but everyone uses them
.
We’ll burn it on the off-chance
…
I have the utmost that 1 day we'll truly understand what sundries actually are & what they really mean. Until when then I suppose we'll play a guessing game, maybe it'll come to someone in a dream...
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Savlon
[]
(once)
[]
(upon)
[]
( a )
[]
(spine)
[]
(……)
[]
Let's write a sonnet -actually sod it...
I’m slightly bemused by space,
it’s bigger now
than I think it used to be.
& each & every time
I peep out from the blinds
it’s expanding.
All too oft’
like a bat-saturated loft,
poetry
can contain
the following………
…
Nuts, dust
& latex gloves.
–
Flash photography
with loads of strobes.
–
Italics, nasty prangs
& sudden-BANGS!
–
Bad language indeed
when there’s no shit fuckin’ need.
–
Half a shandy & an Aspirin,
I know a mate
who knows a goat
who has a cousin if you’re askin’…
–
Plus some other stuff that’s vague
& the bubonic plague.
This is a post
from a poet who knows
no difference
between art
& arse,
sorry.
If blue plastic bags
keep blowing in your face
indoors.
Then close the blinds & windows
& listen as the wind blows
calmer.
resarf poetry 