Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: Magic Realism

St. Lubbock’s Day

Zen came from China, you see

Gutless brutes may go without impedance

To futile profit. So, off you trot, we do

not need your twisted fraud.

Today is St. Lubbock’s. You who idle and do

fuck all, will smiles in their dreams and sleep deep

 enjoy and praise the name of Lubbock.

 

Should active fools disturb your sweet slumber,

show them your scars and mumble:

‘Lummock Lubbock will never pass without

us heroes steadfast on our arses!

We doss, we gladly doss, we idle buggers.

 And they that doss too, shall be my Goodfellows;

whether good or bad. Today will ease their conscience.

And those Joxers who must work will wish

they were not. And shrink when they think on the

futility of all endeavour.

Flight Path

Stumbling Stone

Stumble on surf rockery.

Pigeons bedding down

After side-tracked flight:

Stacks over Staines,

Larks stuck in Gatwick,

Murderous crows soon

Gather in Luton;

Anger Roger Scruton –

Better get a move on.

 

Signs of Life

HobNobs!

Twenty two (and more) pigeon posts phase your

eyes.

Cold tea and chocolate Hobnobs of the night

Adorn the paper strewn workstation

Grab an eyesore shower and recommence

The stringent pursuit of  sublimation:

Prospecting for diamonds in the Shite.

Angelo Dundee

Angelo Bertelli

You leapt

They wept

Crocodile tears

From coiffed ears

A ball of twine

Unravels

Soft gravels

Foreign travels

The Grail Hunt

Bristol born Amelia Dyer - one of the most evi...

New early

half-four

downpour.

 

On Chalice Hill

Four Anoraks

Coverer huddle:

Avebury better

Inclement weather

 

Three pilgrims fall

Two blue, one black

All Pilgrims struggle

When heading back

To Inn Asylum.

 

Uplifted

From the road

The Rifleman’s

With open arms

Rustle up

Wet Sanctuary.

Carnage

8okLzOy

Lunch (less) time;

fry big spuds,

heat up beans,

eat cold chicken,

drink green cider,

then withdraw,

hid upstairs,

day go dream,

play pinball…

football results in

Tea (less) time

so to nightfall

and beyond!

Jesus Swept Up

A swept hilt rapier

It is a Saturday,

another one,

sleep walking

Sarin stiffs,

trousers ankled dead,

snuff one,

get one free,

modern day

humanity

Complex On

The face of a Kathakali artist Kerala, India

Go and do the copy

now the kettle’s boiled.

 

Face the facts.

Dossers made

not born.

 

 

Only child,

spoilt brat,

get fat

and sad.

What about?

My lot.

 

Sorry, mate!

Sorry state!

 

Too late never.

Don’t be clever.

Know your place.

Eat your face

When peckish.

 

Sliming rhyme

Closing time

 

 

 

 

Nessum Dorma

Kettle

In the names of gods and sods,

we all perish.

Unlike the giant sink spiders, who,

like Andy duFrais,

made it via drain,

to bask in cool,

silver basins,

asylums,

and bathe in the tumult

of the morning tap tsunami.

 

Kettle on,

wipe and flush

the mushrooms.

Trousers round

lifeless ankles.

The shame of it!

The shame.

 

Baby safe in the microwave:

Suffocated. Cars meander still

slate dead drivers slowmo halt

in open sewer.

Ringa ringa roses…

Today,

some place in Shetland,

an upside-down helicopter on sand.

A phone rings, it is my doctor.

He say: ‘I will be late.’

‘Okay’, I say, ‘so will I’.

 

 

 

All must Fall

Max Wall in Jabberwocky

Just Gone Four…

Oval test strolls,

profiteroles,

game of bowls,

same old souls,

blunt narwhals,

red brick wall,

Mad Max Wall,

wonder wall,

washing well,

Phil Tufnell,

curfew knell,

peanutshell,

squirrel fell,

all must fall,

human zoo,

   blowers too