bursting  (  gnitsrub  )

noses on a breeze

floating over pastures green

sniff a rose & sneeze

bubbles in the works

spanners, sand & sandwiches

languages as burps

rubber ducks & hens

squirms within a can of worms

whip the inkling's pens

apple bites & pips

fingers, flaps & butterflies

kitchen sinks & ships

rivers on the run

roaming in the gloaming's ghost

chase the fading sun

owls & howling moons

ladders, clouds & passage ways

bladders & balloons



the first of frost


the first of frost  (  tsorf fo tsrif eht  )

a dove above, a sprite of white

a skein of geese, a host of crows

the winter creeps as summer sleeps

with speckled steps & twinkle toes

a crunch below - the frozen grass

is numbered up & bags of crisps

the soft is off, the mud is stone

a circle sings, a conker falls

a sort of door, the hinges creak

a blast of brass & monkey balls

the air's a ghost - so wear a coat

a pair of gloves with fingers crossed

& wander on - beyond the swan

a murmur in the first of frost



a surfeit of lampshades


p o e t r y  ( 17 line read )

cheapskate poundland paper - bland & blank as snow

kisses shit & tight ink - black as murdered crows

elsewhere swans sing backwards - spits of feathered songs

as dream streams creep upstream - upwards then we row

time to meet thy maker - itch & twiddle toes

slice & dice an onion - briskly knead that dough

bang a foolish gold gong - prance & act that one

wake the ghosts for breakfast when those garden grow

bastard scraps & capers - scarpered as me flow

stick to myths & hearsay - not what folk may know

salmon leap for wisdom - avalon & on

quibbles pose as scribbles - squits of so & so

fruits of vaguely labour - flighty quill winds blow

barley mows & cobwebs - watch them as they glow

write some wrongs etc. where they should belong

as the rain pours buckets

fuck it, here we go


muse news musings


muse news musings ( a poem that isn’t about muesli )

your muse is news - the paper cries

as tea mugs steam & low cloud stirs

perhaps the sun will shine my shoes

when light beams through in sudden bursts

i think out loud as pigeons sigh

& bookworms feast on dog-eared words

oh muddled daze of much ado

your gift was but a muddled curse

this much is true yet wild boar glide

as hen fangs rip & dead cats purr

perhaps the moon will mow my lawn

when lowly ink still finds the verse

to buzzard on as swallows dive

& robins bob - observe the birds

my muse is news - no tears weep i

thanks fuck & phew - things have been worse