Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: Poetry

September 3, 2017

Grumblin’ J Babylon (In-Flight Entertainment)

pets

Busy day ahead waiting free grub from the Foodbank— real power gifts a high gluten loaf that nobody in ecstasy wants
Crap sleep; stuffy room; troubled mind— What will Monday bring? Waddling through Deep Water
picture blue crabs in my pants

Tinkerbell was rightly furious
Cursed her lucky star & turned over to seethe
‘We are sorry to hear
of your miserable existence
and insist you contact a higher authority—
Yours Faithfully, Walt’

Talk to Mickey Mouse himself,
Up close and personal
There might be something doing
Perhaps a letter, a formal request
To talk it over, chew the cud
About them good old days

Before animation came
Stole our childhood anarchy
Collectivised imagination
Personified Vietnam
Through GI Mogli’s Ordeals
In the Jungle Book

Apocalypse Now!
Was just a matter of time
After that pastiche, rehash
Computer generated
post-modest barbie doll trauma

Leave a comment

September 2, 2017

Hard to Handle

CgPw0V5VIAQ6Roo

Nine hundred light come Friday—
money in whose bank she wonders?
Hedgehog managers
Crunch numbers mulling over
perfect porridge while
Goldilocks sleeps one off
Going over what could not be
Stories of doomed Dianas
In their own intrusive ways

Weigh up Pros and cons
Disciplined Annie
Arian stock found
Auld hobbits hard to break
Brown suede shoe leather satchel
Wonder what was left inside…
Wheelie bins bob up & down
Three pm ritual ball gown
In their own neurotic ways

Second thoughts, naked potatoes
Embarrassed without their jackets
endure Freikorperkultur
deep fat friars
permit this interruption
to make you aware
keep you up to speed
time is running out
taking all hope & the yucca plant
an odd couple you’ll agree
one as mad as the other
in their own fusible ways…

Leave a comment

September 1, 2017

Modus Vivendi

Grimbeau

tumblr_n71960Qpvj1tcxm2ro1_1280

The day turns

fifteen minutes

will he or will she not come?

I have unlocked the door,

fetched out the crap,

brought in the milk.

It is very windy and

the sky threatens rain.

Things that deter unnecessary travel.

Four minutes to eleven.

Looks like a no show.

Make alternative arrangements.

Change tack.

Map out a new course.

A new modus vivendi.

View original post

Leave a comment

September 1, 2017

Algorithms

Grimbeau

when he said to you

whomsoever you may be

feeling nothing much

staring into spaces

resembling going spare rooms

set aside for punishment &

broken suitcases

View original post

Leave a comment

August 31, 2017

Rites of Autumn

Grimbeau

Day began in dark

at five with roll-ups

and reheated coffee

radio news of butcher birds,

seasonal badger culls,

the lighting of a candle

forgotten prayers

sea weather prophecies

The light of day found

me playing pinball

biding time for the right

moment to unload

before hard labour

breaking feet in smokey rooms

lurching haplessly

between ashtray and crucible

View original post

Leave a comment

August 30, 2017

Flight of Fancy#56

Grimbeau

To thine

own self be

shrew, blue, new, yew, few,

crew, glue, true, Sioux, flu, two…

anything you fancy

Really

View original post

Leave a comment

August 29, 2017

Most Wanton

Grimbeau

Georgie Gargoyle sneers

leers drools pours derision

raining scorn upon

the weak, sick, old, cold,

all the living and the dead

cruel salacious scabious

snooty pogrommer

View original post

Leave a comment

August 28, 2017

Toe & Froe

Grimbeau

Back again at just gone ten
after a power breakfast
with Mr Clay, Ms Self, and the Demi-urge.
A frozen garden, a propped
up green wheelbarrow glued
to an icy rotary clothes line.
Frost suspends decay of jungle beanplants.

What else did you see?
Or hear? Or taste? Or touch? Or smell?

Fields in collision, tectonic plates lying shattered,
or just another trad night down the Greeks.
I see.
So thought Inspector Spangle, flicking through
the photos from scenes of crime:
no time, no space, just action
invisible, eternal delight,
energy in a bun dance.
What could be less clear than that?

Yea, housing, phone calls, Victoria Derbyshire…

I know, I know, I know. Stop nagging me!
It’s all work in progress.

View original post

Leave a comment

August 28, 2017

Making the Weather

Harvey

Here we are at seven-thirty-what’s next my good Pistachio?
Darned if I know Twinkle Toes I feel an urge to casual Urdu
My! How great minds think alike moi an urge to croon Walloon

After a predatory silence a baby entered the selective consciousness
Dispassionately leaving leanings to lopsided ambition aside
A fissure formed which gobbled them up in an instant

A small puppy breezed in through tall idyllic windows
We giggle emptily in slow motion contemplating Dapper Dan
Oi Brother wherefore art thou Gargling Glass?

O how we gargled as if it were to be our last

‘Hear in Texas sure moist out in the rain
Cows gawp atop multipurpose media
When comes Esther Williams Brother
or is it all a pack of lies designed to stop
Hoola-hoopla Wendy Hop, Hey Bro!’

Leave a comment

August 27, 2017

Hot Club: Tuna

6839679507_84c7d0d6c7

Merryweather wins come ten—
crescent moon upstairs
swaying eucalytus silhouette —
somehow I forgot my name

so how did we sleep alright?
Simples complex dynamic?
Conquest of F=All
(lost Sherpa Tentpole halfway up)

Pylons Ltd—Auden & Nice Mick
Tragic consequence blizzard Venture—
still kept upper lelf stiff
Wanna let it go ‘Boum!’
but simply can’t-can’t—

Hibernian heatwave: Holy unlikely
precautionary tales, ambivalence, myopia—
cognitive indifference gains whiphand
aged big head up to his unusuals—
he read it in a babbling brook

‘You hum it & I’ll…
play it Django! Ran out of gas boys!
Walked back twenty miles I tell yous!
Le Figerio header say:

…Abandoned silver ghost found dead
doors agape on Cypress Avenue

mystery minstrel flees scene—
Gripelli noses: DJ say one
thought that was his Monet’s worth
Mon Dieu! How we slept…’

Leave a comment