free socks here yes get your free socks it's not a con nor promotion they weren't socklifted from shops it's just my present to the people & there's plenty yes - lots so free socks here yes get your free socks ...
Enter your tags below
blubbering on
do not stand at my grave & weep as i faked my own death i aint 6 six feet deep there's a sack of maris pipers in the coffin down there whilst i live the high life new i.d - elsewhere so when you awaken in the morning shite for me it might be evening, early afternoon or night aye - so do not blubber at my graveside & that instead fuck yourself rigid you stupid fucking twat x ...
watching stars die
lobtailling, wassailing cloisters, spume, elbow grease. transpose, holy ghost, hydrogen - helium, thought, police. song, swan, wheelbarrows, buoy, ploy - hoi poloi! cosmic stuff, jigsaw, see saw blink destroyed ...
people change
I used to feel obliged to write haiku so now I don't bother for the very same reason & I used to rest my faith on the Queen as head of state yet now I dream of regicide & valid acts of treason. People change x ...
on the branches there’s blossom
On the branches there's blossom hints of pink white bits like phosphum some clouds or cotton floaty wreckless flotsam undead as the possum high like Nelson's Column & ne'er to be forgotten it's a corpus callosum as it bridges that gap between Winter & Spring on the branches there's blossom it's a curious thing ...
weekend witches
Weekend witches & Beltane pagans once yearly-nearly ramblers & blue moon dabblers. Wedding drinkers & funeral weepers occasional tables the occasionally unstable. Hy-Brasil & déjà vu a solar eclipse or the Phoenix, of course too. Brief glimpses of HELL & scarlet pimpernels plus fuck-it-that'll-do rhymers - bloody part-timers ...
sunday sermon
Many great tales shall remain untold there's cold in warmth there's warmth in cold there's sanity in madness & happiness in sadness plus misfortune in luck 'cause God's a fickle fuck. Amen ...
how to fly
You'll never actually fly fly aye sadly that's ridiculous unless you have loads of feather-stuff attached to both your arm-things yet then you'd TWAT into the sea (cite daft Icarus) But there's always metaphor of course & beyond this in a sortofishy allegory plus dead tough drugs i.e Nurofen Plus a mate of mine once dropped 3. Fuckin' nutter ...
our arcane
A secret stamp collection stashed away in the attic or a potter's wheel hidden in the cellar down below. A severed human head beneath the patio yes - every1 needs a hobby but does every1 needs to know ? ...
them chattering
Always on a missive but never from God superstitions intermissions probably just odd misleading breezes but the branches still sing scrap yards & scratch cards most days mean these things ...
resarf poetry 