Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: Poetry

Fitzcaraldo

gadd

Lunchtime.

Chilly when the sun goes plug

Ate bits of last night.

Took my drugs.

Green Cold Amber.

Sun in and out.

Epiphany!

Garden excursion with coffee and cheroot.

Stare at puffy blue song swan vistas.

Make an inventory!

A gossamer feather, white as the lamb;

a cutting crowded rusty burner

(By-law say no burning till seven

on dint of death by fire; A plethora of flies.

Cut my Leg? Crimson Orinoco.

The expedition returns to base.

Bloodied but unbruised.

Normal

Orestes kills

Clytemnestra

In Slumberland:

A mattress Ide.

Blue Mother’s Day feral. Woe ensues.

Laughbarrel!

Better the tranquillity of pulchritude.

Takes your mind of things.

Truth beauty. Beauty truth. That kinda thing.

Turn of the heel. Waft of sublime stardust.

Whiff it. Insuckle. Yellow ether self.

Full as life. Teeming. Oceanically.

1ZtJAIj

 

Temenos

 

yellowfish

Mayhap a Schnitzel?

Tennisison:

Eastbourne ladies

sing this song:

 

Do-da-do-da-dei.

 

Torment ferments,

crystallizes,

like ice and glass.

 

Lapis Lazuli Sky

 

Attila the Flotilla’s back with

a looking-glass, seeing-eye dog,

Anna Cornucopia,

myths of lanky dogend.

 

Mystical hollow children

call from the far horizon:

‘give me love or give me love.’

 

 

 

Spencer Tracy

shocking-old-photos-8

Now,

A medicine ball props me up.

I find myself on a purple furlough

from San Drunken to Alchotraz:

fatter, stupider, floundering

wondering

Why –

which is always a stupid question,

as I well know

(should know better

but don’t).

Regrets?

I’ve hand a few…

Locus: Teeter

pmtoyPx

Perm-interrupt of daydin,

blight noise,

like thistledown,

calls me down for

an absinthe

and

an anchovy.

Stubborn as

stillborn longhorn,

I wrastle with my conch shell

and succumb

Ustulation

Whoops!

A post

Apocalypse

Calypso

Ivor Cutler, poet and songwriter, in 1997.

Twinky, Twinky…

Dust.

Sun Ra.

Free jail.

Cordelia

Blimey

O’Reily

Red

Buttons Mushrooms

 230px-Sir_Thomas_Wyatt,_by_Hans_Holbein_the_Younger

Veronica Lake

il_fullxfull-385361053_3b8a

…after a prolonged retreat

back in the sod-all,

back

to the ordure.

Like micky spillane

Complete with

A brain

In a drain

 

Rope a Dope

BLOG_nabokov

And that, so it was, till now.

The journal arises

on Whitsun Saturday after a prolonged

jojourn in the land of the tetrahedrons,

inspelled by inchohol (how are things in inchaholy?),

in the leantime a beggar become,

so injured the risk of recovery is

now  a threat, like church twice on Sundays,

or school

anyday

 

Blue Peter!

 

tumblr_mas7xfPTcV1qkvbwso1_500…here in pen if not in umbra.

Tea and a pea. A pea and a pee.

Tee tea and a Tee-tee.

A tepee. A PT109. Pete Bog.

A pea on a tee. Peaty Bog.

TP McManus. Tipperary

Tim. Peter Purvis…