( ? )

annual checkup

~

annual checkup ( because i once saw a jigsaw jig & other reasons too )

…



the ears are piers - the eyes are shores

the mind is threads & minotaurs

the elbows glow if sneezes glow

when daydreams scream - the anus snores


the hands are bands - the toes are bells

the feet are beats & yoking spells

the furrowed brow is highland cow

when breezes growl - the armpits yell


the knees are cheese - the chin is warm

the spine is swine & unicorns

the noses grow - all six, you know

when autumn falls & fungi spore


the soul is vole - the brain is cells

the neck is heck yet ankles smell

of roman roads & barley mows

the heart is still a wishing well

...

bother-spot

~

bother-spot ( your advert here )

…




as laundry maids mangle

& trespassers trample

as tabloid scum scandal

i dangle at angles


as hearty shelves mantle

& eggy codes scramble

as connoisseurs sample

i jangle me ankles


as sequins all spangle

& bracelets all bangle

as birthdays blow candles

i tried to feel thankful


but delayed trains cancel

& wrong'un folk strangle

i dangle at angles

some help please, i'm tangled

...

stroll-stuff

~

stroll-stuff ( some pun-of-the-mill gubbins – twenty seventeen stylee )

…




muddles in puddles & jumbles in socks

dawdles through portals & pennies in slots

sun on my earlobes

& wind up my nose

saunters through old haunts & vest strings in knots


dithers in rivers & riddles in keys

bubbles in bobbles & knobbles in knees

oh in my so-so

& on in my flow

shadows are breadcrumbs & questions are trees


pistols in pistons & crystals in rocks

ponies in shell suits & donkeys in frocks

search for those echoes

through to & its fro

poems are hidden in wheres & their whats


wanders in ponders & sonnets in bees

haiku in sky blue & bollocks in me

yon lie the meadows

yes, soon we are home

quibble in scribbles - so how did it go?

...

fuss bother fuss

~

fuss bother fuss ( a true story about a twat )

…



i'm not the bats within your eyes

i'm not the facts that stick to lies

i'm not the stoat

within your throat

i'm not the thunder in your thighs


i'm not the wind within your whines

i'm not the string that binds your twine

i'm not what's flung

when songs are sung

i'm not your sadly absent spine


i'm not the boars up in your skies

i'm not the pork within your pies

i'm not the oats

that float your boats

i'm not your flaming butterflies


i'm not the war within your mind

i'm not the thoughts from your behind

i'm not the dung

upon your tongue

i'm not your phantom pantomime

...

monday’s tongue

~

monday’s tongue ( a quatro-nonrick for all seasons & cheeses )

…




the car alarms as grey dawn slurps

on nettle tea as puddles chirp

an almost song

of dawdle on

as monday's tongue - it tastes the dirt


the cow remarks in terse excerpts

fluorescently as knee pads jerk

the blow blows free

as bus stops sneeze

& old goats float as leopards lurk


the sun is dark as acorns burp

incessantly & shepherds smirk

but still the swans

they slide along

with shiny ties & ironed shirts


the dog's all bark as curtains shirk

collectively yet blind perk

as bumble bees

they clutch at keys

so possibly - things just might work

( ? )

...

( as the crowbar flies )

~

( as the crowbar flies ) ( a re-winging of an older post )

…



there are moors that sprawl

beyond dry-stone walls

where the heather tones

& the lonesome roam


there are fields that gleam

neath the sun's gold beams

where the ragwort hides

& the blank verse rhymes


there are treetops tall

where the woodlark calls

& the oak tree moans

as the old wind groans


there are streams that dream

as the weasels scheme

as the crowbar flies

far within my mind

...

critique-fodder

~

critique -fodder ( a short poem about motherfuckers )

…




is this a poem?

how about now?

milk the wild thistle

& tickle the cow


is this a poem?

squint as you read

stroke your chin bristle

& wobble your knees


is this a poem?

what do you think?

blow your tin whistle

& lick at the ink


was that a poem?

how did it fare?

did it ring fizzles

& why should we care?

...

that dream again

~

that dream again ( some sheet )

…



feathers for fingers & cat flaps on mars

wanders on venus & clogs in hot cars

florists on calpol & vikings in jars

badgers are strumming on bastard guitars


bishops in crystals & whale song in shoes

bagpipes in black holes & yetis in trews

monday in sunday & tuesday in lieu

saxons are flaxen to addle the muse


light in my left hand & shpherds in bras

strangers in mangers & dogfish in stars

troughs in the peakland & barn owls in bars

march hares are marching through barmy bazaars


voles in old coal mines & cowslips in moos

darkness in sundials & clocks in cuckoos

pole vault the scots pine & tickle the shrew

what does it all mean?

we haven't a clue

...