Grimbeau

Scroodles
March 14, 2013

Plush Sea

Faraway from oneself is asylum

Warm peninsula across the soft bay

Muscular air inhales orange blossom

Bare feet sorb enriching clay

 

Warm peninsula across the soft bay

Capricious zephyrs kiss mad bumptious hair

Bare feet sorb blood enriching clay

Chasing the light in yielding swift spangles

 

 

Capricious zephyrs kiss mad bumptious hair

Coursing the molten corrack nursing shore

Chasing the light in yielding swift spangles

Making mockery of eternity

 

 

Coursing the molten corrack nursing shore

Faraway from ourselves is asylum

Making mockery of eternity

Muscular air inhales orange blossom

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March 14, 2013

Mad Ithaca

Chronicles of an endgame sour the day,

the last cormorant glides home half-asleep.

mauve tapering headland not faraway

Is darker; the treachery still indiscrete.

I trail past the quiet, dark caravan,

chest pounding with sorrow; tried to walk it

off but it don’t go – a woe-begotten

rotten vixen’s smashed my fragile heart.

On the rise, I make up the chintzy night scene

of Port Ithaca’s tourist hostelries.

Thronging poached Grockles being obscene

Python Lee Jacksons in a broken dream

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March 14, 2013

efcaristo…paracalor

Calamares tapas.

Waist deep naked and absurdly squatting:

‘Calamares! Cease this punishment!’

Onlooking palm shanty bivouacs sing:

‘You corrupter of paradise! Repent

this vile ouzo hubris and perish cold

and alone on this too early morning:

Watch your little life pass by, your transient soul

Is floating about you, a dark sponge gloating

at your flaccid white chipfat corpuscles.’

Soon the morning beautiful will bring

their bronzed, ideal, muscular nonsense,

scoff tapas and laugh stage-loud at the thing

stood shivering in freezing blue Ionian bliss:

hungry harpies, waiting for you to steal a piss!

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March 14, 2013

Moby Dock

Groyne

We are whaling, we are whaling, call me

Ishmael, the lucky bugger who found a tree

trunk drifting in lukewarm Horse Latitudes

and fashioned a canoe: sound, swift, bit crude;

but still, given the hairy circumstances,

he avoided the Fish’s necromancies.

Sat here on blustery Selsey Bill, chill

blasts of wintry Solent swoop the feral

groynes, sloppy creosoted and duned

with mounds of heave-hoed pebbles; propelled

from an ocean of discarded dying hulks,

Trainee corpses for the breakers yard: shelled.

This leviathan could not give tuppence worth

with his Moon and Sixpence and an old hair shirt.

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March 14, 2013

Anyone for Menace?

Ecuador

Hallucinogenics at Fatcat
Fritzo’s holiday manor and forthwith
one’s mind sets to lobster pots and poitin.
Down the dark, wet, morbid coastal granite
to an uncertain end in boiling water:
Sure, after a big search a boot found
sockless in the now calm cove, a daughter’s
ripped and ravaged t-shirt, hooked and
no-one in it: simple sea manslaughter.
The paramour, a brazen whacko balmpot
surpriselessly left without a trace for
abroad and other exotic foreign spots.
A hippy chick, called Carla, from Ecuador,
knew for sure that he had disappeared
To Planet Tharg: how verily weird.

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