let’s

…

let’s write a poem
& bore them all rigid

let’s sing a song
in the key of skeleton major

let’s catch a bus
or a hypersonic tram

let’s collect stamps
from stampeding wildebeest

let’s swim with dolphins
– narwhals & krakens

let’s ride an old bike
– a penny farthing or katie price

let’s paint a scene
an acrylic photograph

let’s eat noodle soup
& stain the linen tablecloth

let’s plant bulbs
( daffodil & halogen )

let’s go window shopping
& buy a wooden sash

let’s walk the moors
& plod beneath the grey

let’s pretend it’s tomorrow
we haven’t got all day

…

night quiz

…

but can the foxes foxtrot

– perhaps a raunchy rumba?

      & is the blue moon stilton

      – cambazola or buxton?

do barn owls barn dance too

& sometimes roost in sheds?

      & if so – are they barn owls

      or “shed owls” then instead?

why’s the sun invisible?

where the eff’s it gone?

      do the dead snore?

      do birds dream they’re human?

do shooting stars shoot blanks?

how do those vampires shave

      – as mirrors won’t do shit?

      are ghosts afraid of us

– the quizzical insomniacs

who amble, stroking chins?

      how do bats fly upright?

      is the plough a question mark?

– what is the question?

wonders the sky out loud

      sounding off again

      – belt it up, orion

…

the war in france

…

the war in france, the secret war
is shushy-shush – so say no more

it must be grim for all of those
albanians to flee in droves

the frightened men of fighting age
that flee what’s left of death’s rampage

it’s terrible – what can we do
as paris burns & lyon too?

i’ll wave a flag – so all can see
the bravery in humble me

the stunningness in little i
who shall become a butterfly

i’ll jab the kids & wear a frock
i’ll buy some tits but keep me cock

& bend the knee for all who come
the ones that flee the beating drum

of racist climate change’s blitz
they’ll stay forever in the ritz

the dorchester & council flats
throughout this land of bowler hats

of sausage rolls & banging pots
they’ll live with us – we’ll have the lot

beside the thames, the trent, the tyne
or in your house but not ’round mine

…

just about everyone

…

antediluvian
& uncle atlantis

sister cistern
overflowing

father than you think
or a country mile

mother flutter
– moths or butterflies

brother blubber
then green bottles

hang like a bat nap
on the garden walrus

son on the horizon
bishop & away

daughters all & waterfalls
twilight cousins

doctor photographs
professor profess

captain whistle
sergeant owardness

missus the target
& mister riverbank

all organic
non-conformists

…

better out than ( dot-dot-dot )

” mmm danone “

( the danone marketing department )

…

a greeny green frog
from the bog within y’ throat
it’s so y’don’t croak

trumpets sound a pound
pushing out another log
shat upon the bog

you’re the squawking fog
i’m the cunt in countryside
farting far & wide

speaking with a creak
turns the key of either or
guffaw is a door

you of misted dew
rascal of the astral’s plain
chasing gravy’s train

as waz of the gods
soaks the odds ‘n’ sods of i
pissing from the sky

…

thieving gits

“a flower?”

( peter gabriel )

…

magpies steal moonbeams
& glossy magazines

coins from open pockets
– there goes y’ bus fare

diamonds in heists
with stockings on their noggins

lighthouse keepers
– bald as a featherless coot

who walk without a hat
beneath the midday sun

orange essex girls
with their oompa loompa tans

& the glowing temples
of their croydon facelifts

body builders posing
drenched in baby oil

dragged up by their ankles
to a roost in the sky

plus the little metal dish
of a mister kipling pie

or crowns from the bonces
of royal queens & kings

foil from the smack’eads
– yes, all the shiny things

…

( author nodes )

visit https://resarfpoetry.blog/

if you want to see the full photo

& not just the snippets of it

( sort it out – wordpress tech-twats )

…

october salad

“bring me my spear; o clouds unfold!”

( william blake )

…

toadstool cushions

gnomes gone fishing

      fission not fusion

      flatpack furnishings

further in the foghorn

haunted orchard gate

      gone with the windmill

      snails in a gale

alpacas, llamas

summer in pyjamas

      spot the baboons

      in hot air balloons

fungal fayre rides

feather duster there

      egg fried ricin

      rutting stags & hags

werewolf whistles

a turnip for the books

      leaves on the lane

      stomach acid rain

ghosts on toast

goblins & bats

      west winds, vest stings

      & woollen bobble hats

…

( author moans )

wordpress keeps cutting off my photos

it’s been going on for a few days now

i don’t understand …

maybe it’s the dimensions?

does everything have to be a standard size now?

fuck knows coz i don’t

but if you go on resarfpoetry.blog

you can still see the full images

… thanks & huff over ( for now )

…

auditing poetry

” yo … “

( a.b )

…

from the public footpath
on the corner of the page

or the pavement beyond
the imaginary fence

spot the words at work
see the rhymes in chime

forklifts loaded
with brevity on pallets

front loaders heaving
with weighty metaphors

verse smiths reversed
in poem loading bays

await the latest model
designed by muses

but built by milksops
& angry cat ladies

fly a drone over
the stanzas & the strophes

if the weather isn’t shite
( keep in line of sight )

film & photograph
all that you can see

they can film you so
– fuck security

…

bird poets

” never play leapfrog with a unicorn “

( roy walker )

…

homering pigeon

e. emu cummings

elizabeth barret brown owl

charles barnowlski

oscar wild fowl

john cooper lark

spoonbill shakespeare

shearwater de la mare

samuel taylor chaffinch

simon ptarmiganage

william crake

emily, anne

& charlotte swantë

carol anne ducky

saph sparrow

edgar allan crow

…