Poems

questioning questioning

…

can the candlemaker
blow the candles
on his birthday cake?

does the grocer’s daughter
know her onions
like her father?

how far does the farmer
plough the field
before the seagulls

then descend
& feast upon
the worms that squirm in furrows?

will the wicked winter wind
frisk us all
fruzzen?

has the haberdasher
dashed
down to the harbour yet?

do the bible bashers
worship badgers
on the sly?

when will the spring
sing a hymn
like a poem thing?

…

furthermore it’s autumn

…

we became the pages
like the photographs
of the calendar’s turn
over & collapse

catch another breath then
whack the kettle on
formerly’s a rain cloud
once is now upon

i, the ‘nana milksop
shaken like a leaf
tumbles in the breezes
time is but a thief

you, the feathered future
darker than the crack
of a massive arse’ole
so shadows attack

furthermore it’s autumn
winter’s on its way
walk into the evening
as the mantis pray

’til the badgers samba
as the toadstools spore
roaming in the gloaming
knocking on death’s door

…

chuntering left

…

in between the drops
& the drips from the tap
in the bathroom’s sink

holes for all your pigeons
a smidgeon of ink
a wink & a nod

off before the whistle
yet we never saw
those thunderclouds coming

up from the ground
a mystery is blooming
chuntering left

to this very laptop
& other such devices
download complete

& then repeat
looping those cassettes
retracing echoes

of the future’s spanners
picking up steam’s litter
grabbing at the fog

horns on his head
tread with feathered feet
we, the incomplete

& utter gubbins
fall like an autumn
chorally crow

…

septemberal

…

s emaphore & seraphin
then let’s begin
e ctoplasm
from the nostrils of your nose
p op tarts & pardons
welkins water gardens
t artan rugs, temporal
feeling quite septemberal
e gg timers tick
tocks getting quick
m altesers, mole hills
another beanstalk spills
b iplanes stutter
better run for cover
e arly trains, catch up
ketchup, the night bus
r ubber gloves, chickens
you & who the dickens
a xe handles jazz
i’m your magic spaz
l uggage on a trolley
best bring a brolly

…

when couplets attack

…

but if it fits – it must go in

& so the rhymers stroke a chin

the breezes blow in figure eights

the bubblegum sun masticates

the clouds aloud, a bursting sky

the rest is but a butterfly

a post-it-note, the shepherds blah

the leopards here not spotted far

upon another pigeon day

the poets float & scroat away

a sort of door, a flowing so

a cattle cat & mornings glow

a certain number’s syllables

the stresses dee in intervals

between the dums & on she plods

& then she ends, you lucky sods

…

further & more

…

beyond the swan

& in between

      the closing sings

      an opening

the seasons tease

the breezes crow

      the flow is though

      a river’s bend

a kingfisher

a fissure here

      apocryphal

      is possible

the near is far

a wooden spoon

      a garden gate

      & middle eight

a flighty sky

my feathered friend

      the end is just

      the cusp of soon

but when is then

& rubber gloves

      or turtle doves

      the morning squawks

…