ten red robins


ten red robins (  snibor der net  )

ten red robins

bobbing in the head

ten red robins

bobbing in the head

& if ten red robins

should bugger off & go

there'll be no red robins

& just the crows, instead



this country lane


this country lane  (  enal yrtnuoc siht  )

quivers in a blue cagoule

hum a hymn & wander on

crows & poems peck the head

squawking with this ball & chain

flutters in the moth of june

puddles pool - a splosh of feet

fingers slip as noses drip

buttercups are on the brain

fields of wheat are shifting seas

waving as the thunder drums

mumbles in a shroud of cloud

jumble down this country lane

til the sun erupts & smiles

glow with ghosts & rove for miles

float if roses war with thorns

bee the breeze & sup the rain

( cheers )




a walk of sorts


a walk of sorts  ( stros fo klaw a )

walnut haversacks

clubfoot pathogen

flat pack luncheon box

cloud shroud christening

shotgun michaelmas

singsong cinnamon

dead red herring bone

strobe light pentecost

steam, green gravy train

plastic trouser press

caw, crow squawking boots

tree leaf scatter maps

high-ho, stylophones

windmill wizardry

ghouls in blue cagoules

sun-spun compasses





inspirational  (  lanoitaripsni  )

a bearded billy goat

smokes a pipe beside the fire

in an old crofter's cottage

as a weasel fights an earwig

to the death or thereabouts

in the bowels of the woodland

& an owl shats a pellet

so the bright moon blooms


just another tuesday poem


just another tuesday poem  (  meop yadseut rehtona tsuj  )

sheets & shrouds of clouds

brown is england's pheasant gland

sunk beneath this grey

blurting bursts of birds

burble on a gurgled breeze

needles in the hay

shite is on t.v

spiders in the attic feast

eating curds & whey

spectres in the head

chatters, chimes & diatribes

clattering away

weasels prowl the town

spittle spins the village rats

squirrels in their drey

sleep as shepherds bleat

phantoms flap in chapels black

scraps as mantis prey

shades of beige eclipse

stand y' still like river mist

why choose night, tuesday?

as inside hide i

rubber walls & sipping chai

bugger all to say



quarter past fuck knows


quarter past fuck knows  (  f o r  y e t i  &  n e s s i e  )

quarter past fuck knows

weevils on a drunken eve

yawning morning dew

dial a sun, crow toes

spiral like an afternoon

dinosaur at two

bumblebees, breeze blows

robots on a roman road

clocks of cuckoo spew

burble 'erb - thyme flows

flapping as a pantomime

flying back to you

( ? )