Vanishing Point
Hungry bard.
Tub of lard.
Ate the Shard
& Gherkin.
PC Mod.
Lazy sod.
Missed him.
He was shirkin’.
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Category: Magic Realism
February 1, 2014
February 1, 2014
Bubble Wrap
Yesterday,
when time stopped
forever,
the dreamcloud
smiled knowing
that the sly
sun was out
with some chums
February 1, 2014
Plumb
Let me glide
as a Frisbee
Glides
the wild, mauve
yonderness…
feeding on
the plankton
on the event
horizon:
a vacuum
sucker of warm
lux skin flakes.
Hovering
Indigo
firmament
January 30, 2014
Pelt
Get closer to the word machine.
Inside the hum and burr, that is
Can you hear it computing?
Now we get bones from fur,
when it is stem-celling.
Many furs die along the way.
As for the survivors, with training
the could become stamp cells.
Put them in acid for a few minutes and…
Bob’s your Uncle!
January 30, 2014
A Handbag!
Still dreek dark heavy misty morning.
Half-hearted cock-crow, with my radio on;
pressing for a coffee… strip down terror
suspects by May. No, says June. Bitter spat.
Handbags.
We’re here because we’re here because we’re here
Shifting goalposts. Sand riddle, like the Sphinx.
Typical government trickery, hickory dickory.
Mouse roars, clock flees in floods, sea of time
January 7, 2014
Lady Day
I could’ve slept all night
I
Cudave schleppt
All night…&
Stillav’schlept summore
I
Kudda did
Sumthings
Eye’ve
Nefferdun
Bevor….
I’ll never know wot made it so
Xcitin’
Wen allat wonce my art
Took flite
I
Ownly no that shee
Began two dance wivced
Me
I
Cuddadanssed
Darnstdarnsed
Allnite.
January 6, 2014
Stephen’s Daze
Grabbed a bite and had my pills,
found a lorry on the doorstep.
It’s enough to make you sleep
on the underside of the sheet.
January 6, 2014
Magi
Three gifts day, so where are wise guys?
Far away in the Levant, gassed,
Scourged, headless – left for dead.
As for us damned refugees,
Godforsaken orphans
of storms, beast housed: Waiters.
Modest chrome silver drooped lamp,
a huge, grey gym ball and the rest
of the detritus of dead Yule:
dead skin flakes, crumb strewn, smoke dust
coats the mats, the bedding, and
wheelchairs – a seat where mites scoff
Then explode, overfull on the
rich pickings. Intangibly sensed
accummulated filth, fired by
the chill draught of blasting wind
Here a dog ventures out into
the dark aftermath of the
nights storm and the place blows-in…
Eusebio is extinct, died off yesterday.
Sidelight set on sill. Time is a herb.
December 17, 2013
New Dark Age
Sleep vermillion deep on tilted bed,
blood seeped lush ooze
downslope heading headwards
deflating maculate instep and arch,
ankle, heel, and calf.
Flooded dreams of Fen, Ely, Hereward the Wake.
Airborne screech, bare bummed cackling grimalkin:
surfeit of posset. Traitors lurk amongst
liturgy and reeded, boggy hollow.
The Wash will out the Crown.
December 16, 2013
Jape
Subscribe: Free Calendar! A year in Sing-Sing.
Habeas corpus or what? Amnesty.
Ethical gift to salve the conscious conscience.
Place on cardboard coffee table to catch
the eyes of passers-by, nod frownfully
in silent solace, go wild ape and shout:
‘Owzat!’
Then, from red animate to grey plausible go
do your best sepulchral Arlott:
‘Calendar caught Eye bowled Jaffa.’
Grimbeau 