a pen as a paddle

~

a pen as a paddle ( elddap a sa nep a

…

a quest in a question
a quivering bow
the nadgers of badgers
a blithering flow

a ripple, a river
a rabbit, a hare
a ponder of yonder
the over in there

the answer is antlers
a staggering stag
the moon is retreating
& waving a flag

the sooner in later
is opening doors
a tisket, a biscuit
a tusking of boars

the scramble is egging
a cracking of chick
if easter is wester
in tockings of tick

the kettle is settled
the storm’s in the tea
the morning is forming
a puzzle in me

a pen as a paddle
a sword & a sun
a puddle of piddle
a bubble, a gun

the riddle is rubber
a cock of a hen
the rest is the scribbles
of mizzle in men

…

adventures in technicolour

~

adventures in technicolour ( ruolocinhcet ni serutnevda )

…

ride a white swansong

dance a red rumba

jump a green beanbag

ring a brown cowbell

sink a pink potshot

catch a gold sunbeam

grab a puce pew with

silverfish fingers

warble bronze broadsides

as the teal duck quacks

echo in yellow

have a mauve moment

orange on rhymeless

cataracts swirling

purple like patchwork

on a grey daydream

in a black catnap

’til the blues adieu

…

( author notes )

never wear light sandy corduroys after dark

they look like skin

& then the bullshit flows

…

target audience

~

target audience ( ecneidua tegrat )

…

trampolinists
with vertigo
& motion sickness

lollipop ladies
with two glass eyes
& narcolepsy

fellow subscribers
of fillipino welder
& eskimo tea lady monthly

minstrels ‘n’ nymphs
fit nuns & ninjas
( even if they’re ginger )

village weirdos
with hairy palms
who talk to the faerie folk

those who dance the blues
in dyspraxia shoes
& mermaids with barnacle beards

hardcore insomniacs
with bags beneath bags
who spot the shooting stars

snarks on the park
pissing in the dark
as the normalzzz snore

plodders of the leas
not those n.p.c’s
with their woe is me poetry

all the non-bots
who see beyond the gaps
of the dot-dot-dots

…

kumquat may

~

kumquat may ( yam tauqmuk )

…

in the fourteenth century
up a walnut tree

enter seven digit code
hit the bloody road

salad is a ballad
flap another fragment

facing the brace
of a fresh west wind

down with the owls
in a hooded oaken wood

with a rusty spanner
& a jelly baby sandwich

my middle name
was never craig or gordon

i preferred your early work
when the earth was purple

…

internet storm warning

~

internet storm warning ( gninraw morts tenretni )

…

masts on the moor

( scaring off crows )

rattle like trees

( kids play with snakes )

drumming the rain

( falling indoors )

i spy my my

( weathercock eye )

so & so strayed

( from the wrong path )

so & so said

( something or other )

then echoes flow

( pissing upstream )

redder than herrings

( brainstream spools )

as the bloody bots

( flesh & the code )

stir the phantom potty

( plastic & cracked )

for all who swim in

( run a hot bath )

read a good book

( hashtag s.o.s )

…

promo poem

~

promo poem ( meop omorp )

…

grown under moonlight
made in cydonia

voted number one
by tea leaf readers

& lollipop ladies
who gave us five stars

each unique barcode
was jazz hand carved

ten percent of florists
found the secret passage

three in four badgers
never saw it coming

also available
in yellow or magenta

or dark matter
but good luck with that

six in seven shepherds
loved it like their flock

all organic
even the tentacles

typed over time
by a trillion chimps

brewed in a vat
with tramp underpants

under warranty
’til the end of the holocene

unconfused
despite the kali yuga

ten thousand barn owls
can’t be bloody wrong

eighty eight percent of goblins
said it was delicious

…

pen forth, penfriends

~

pen forth, penfriends ( sdneirfnep ,htrof nep )

…

rollerball buddies
tossers of the daily sprawl
sponsored by posca

black marker partners
paper white – like elephants
singing with a wrist

calligraphy cohorts
bullet tip associates
on the ballpoint boys

highlighter fishwife’s
& fountain pen mountain men
scrawling like spiders

feathered quill brethren
sisters of the squidy well
stilo amigos

we, the scribble’s kin
irkers of the qwerty keys
writing like a ghost

…