Life Coaching for Twits
You’ve got to denigrate the positive
Accentuate the negative
Pour scorn on the affirmative
And suck up to Mr. Inbetween.
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Category: Poetry
July 12, 2018
Imploding Plastic Inevitables (all is phoney…)
I run things over in my head
Take the right option
At the top of the stairwell
Sallow mango tigers burn
Flagrant tongues lick upwards
Melting toy balloons drop fire
Withered moulded plastic chairs
Empty overnight
Circus macabre reseeding corn
Shriek to no avail
July 9, 2018
Turdrum
Just you and me then
Two faces pressed on flax
Punchy—
Can’t see straight
contorted by parallax
panoptical contusions
other big words like turd
July 7, 2018
Incidental Muse
In a dream I spoke with the Cyprus-born,
And said to her,
“Mother of beauty, mother of joy,
Why hast thou given to men
“This thing called love, like the ache of a wound
In beauty’s side,
To burn and throb and be quelled for an hour
And never wholly depart?”
And the daughter of Cyprus said to me,
“Child of the earth,
Behold, all things are born and attain,
But only as they desire,—
As luck would have it
the goddess of love pitched up
out of the cerulean
blue earthenware amphora
I grabbed the opportunity to inquire—what’s gives
with the aching
burning throb in the
little toe on my left foot,
She had a look & said
Look here manchild, desire’s in there
pulling the strings
Believe me.
Take my word for it,
I really do know about these things.
Desire, huh? I just thought it was
a hen’s eye corn
giving me the run around
“The sun that is strong, the gods that are wise,
The loving heart,
Deeds and knowledge and beauty and joy,—
But before all else was desire.”
July 5, 2018
Robes Pierrot
glossy plump white milking legs go on downstream forever young : at heart hobnobbing hoc polloi are as good as it gets mate forever young : a tart fire eaters are merely clandestine salamanders for ever young etat
July 5, 2018
Smoke on Our Walter
Be bedazzled bot by the clumbrous pongs
rising unmoonlily from the jimcrack froth—
plumscrumptious filo pockets crumple sofa titbits
— enter stooge stage left bearing firewood & chippolatas
grinning from leer to leer (flashing black gnashers) —
ickle rood riding herd after three hard daze at the orifice,
slathering sweatshop slavver, rectal bleeds (occupational hazards)
meet someone’s needs— redundant runcible spoons for example—
f-f-fictive day doodles crayonise blank sable screens
(Yawn long to fill the gap- gap)
Removal men in socks pad about warily in fear of chicken neck complaints (knights of the goiter no doubt)· some things best left- defiant marjoram will not be sorely missed – pastures new neatly tonsured bridlepaths and rat runs.
Begins a torrent from a shifty rampage? Methinks prefer not to think not just in case.
Monsoon babies know the score do-dah do-dah
Monsoon racetrack eight miles high oh-do-da-day
Dawn on the fourth of July, opaque or what!
What! No Quips?
July 2, 2018
Comfy
fingers fish out oven chips
mushrooms skirmish aubergine
berserkers stroke fat scallions
moonwalking in the moonlight
profound wart heretical rave
from the crouton to the grave
—we will make you comfy
Humphrey enjoys tenderness
Nectar and ambrosia
In manageable portions
July 1, 2018
Pangolin
I am an ear—
one of a pair, two of a kind,
three of an
afternoon…
Desecration time tolls out
Rental floss and toothpaste, gargling
wrong civilisation displaced in them their parts,
go sit still in the sun & absorb some rays of golden naff
Truth is
Got stuck thrusting by the window indisposed to expose caressing frozen post sacrums
— you are only here twice so best crack on with it.
Returned from astonishment unwound down,
a camembert electric cuckoo clock dripped nine,
so much for your handiwork
From the cradle to the groove exult lost country wiles
like ice cream ate with sabres
or playing twister as they buried the foetus in the slurry
One to three for five
sick seminate won two tree
four fife stick heavens gate sundown
treefall light stick elevate
June 24, 2018
Cheek By Jowl
Just you and me then
Two faces pressed on glass
Punchy—
Can’t see straight
Blinded by proximity
June 23, 2018
Inside a Pornographer’s Trossachs
‘Wink what yon plumtree can do for you
Wink what you can do for yon Plumtree’
Betterer is the air here!
Some verve & vivaciousness
as I gaze from a foreign window—
silent movies, incoherent builders mumble
argue banter opine about methodologies
sufficient unto the day
None of it my business
A warrant officer tidies up the mess
Dead leaves and upturned beer crates
Songs! Instant constipation
Sit down the throne is free
Sophisticated cheats reviled by Nazi death squads
Ready for Walkies
Beg for euthanasia!
Rock back shut your eyes— fifty knee bends feel the burn
Opiated eyeballs, hanging mouth, distraught neck tendons, final breath
Achilles’ heel got him in the end
Cold and black as ice
Inside a pornographer’s Trossachs
Grimbeau 