Clowns
At the jukebox
With a timid demeanour
Behind purple drapes
They, with needles and pins,
Listen to Sontag
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Category: Music
September 22, 2013
Whistles
Glisten
Sheer sparkling wit,
wild infant crazy hopes,
whose voices, too true, call to us all
like spooks
September 12, 2013
Moonlight Dump
Let’s go to the loo
Let’s jump in the bog
Devastate the places
Where the putrid vermin hog
Let’s flush them out tonight dear
It’s silly not to try
Rid the world of scumbags
Without a reason why.
September 8, 2013
Candid Chimera
Last Night of…
extreme dreams,
stark monochrome fluid,
freeway floral wallpaper,
rotting damasks, shillelagh,
almonds and formaldehyde.
White light, white sheet.
Jammin’ Jerusalem
Jute wailing bunnies.
Then,
exhausted from the lie-in:
cobalt clear still sky
flossed with high flying drifts,
orchestras of demi-gods trail
home spent.
We scavenge the tepee for beans,
celebrate love apples with libations of strong coffee,
and weep and fear for the band snakes,
Asian gators, and tigers on the fridge, hiding behind
the fabric conditioner, still ready to pounce on sleepy
Moorhen’s eggs.
Your runnin’ and
your runnin’ and
your runnin’ away
from yourself.
August 26, 2013
Glimpse Caught
Backside,
Z-framed
Larder door
Right angled
Very steep
Leaning still
With brass coat
Hook intact
After sixty years
Provides support to
Green Wheelbarrow
Propped chassis out
Sunbeam ignites
Spiders golden strand.
August 24, 2013
Nessum Dorma
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’.
August 16, 2013
Pissead
Bees on marjoram (Photo credit: bramblejungle)
Death sucks
Like trams:
Get true real,
Marjoram.
Crazy.
Like splints
Gold is copper
We make love
Sometomes
inbegtween
August 16, 2013
Who are those Guys?
Raindrops keep falling on my shed
and just like the drain that is
too big for its head, epileptic fit,
though I’ll never ever stop my brain by explaining.
So, I’ll go do me some walking with a Nun;
she said that is no way to kingdom come,
acting like a bum,
then off she runs,
with my loaded gun.
There’s one thing I know the shoes
my uncle left me do not fit me.
It won’t be long till the pointy toes
will start to nick me.
And raindrops keep falling on my shed…
August 6, 2013
Life in a Oncetime
‘Looky-lookky round, ya’ll!’
another bad utterance,
‘The centre ground…’ the voice said.
‘…but the centre is missing’
said a Talking Head.
August 2, 2013
Ghoulies
Flight of fancy!
Sid and Nancy
Necromancy
Grimbeau 