Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: Postcard

Instant Coma

nose

 

Two whites go mad gun down real people beings
monsters die hard and ugly
raging gainst the dying
in their x ray sights

good time for a change
arrest is not an option
simply went berserk
godly in a godless world
Two whites go mad gun down real people beings

outlaw supply and demand
screams Judge Roy Bean on a green machine
weighing up his options
a disturbance in the swarming horde
Two whites go mad gun down real people beings

Jettatori (…a hidden fancy)

unnamed

 

 

Jettatori,
casters of the evil eye
Watched on in awe
Funstick McCraw perform
household chores
Licking floors
Opening outside doors
Observes three jackdaws
dropping peanuts
Up disused chimney pots
‘I’ll put your head in a box full of frogs ’
Recall the vernal equinox
All you want is hidden there
Jettatori.
casters of the evil eye…
Just sigh

St Within cherishes rainy days as ready made excuses
to avoid demanding chores that lurk in the soggy world out there.
Looking out on a rainy day as chill air rolls in
Wide open window admits sound of water
Thud splat on nettle;
rustlings hid under undergrowth; bird tweets and car doors percuss.
Wet days holed up in a Vellum trailer
Cheap drains spewing rain
found thrumming on the cheap tin roof.

Plans jottings quips owt…rain she surges in the west,
Sniffs oil tankers torched in the gulf of Oman
Lar committed to who knows what.
Beers and bed . Terry robbed. Midsummer 2019.
Toerag blues play out.
Regrettably like Sundays

Call Doc & the Medics cavalry is coming
Hit me with a feather Mistah Merryweather
Tickle some hidden fancy

Sunny Day…(Who do i write for? Why…for You)

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Smoke

Went up

—new PopE

I Sir Sago

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Heavy duty gossamer sported shadow of a funman stumbling naked purblind golan dawn lost in cudgel citadels of Mynah where olive buds make counterpane relief crisp brittle dew on broken open ground encourage trudge tender back to trundle see near distant orange turns out pink up close up green ambiance impacts emotion well thumb read all about it in the palm of your paps soil fingers scrunched, grappling with concievables beyond incomprehension as in a one worder: baffled by gum listen up harkful as continuosity compels the feline sip unpuncted blandswill trial semolina crispen fresh white walking stick in drenched waterbath a must after outswilled pink conducive gobwash when inner voice say :’Spuchen Sie Sweinfleisch, Bitte?’ nod smiley blank surplus inner giggles giveaway twinkle eyes we no LOL no sir we gone Way beyond evil good third egress elect you bet bottom dollar constituencies of one called me myself and i sir sago. 

The Party for Moderate Progress Without the Bounds of the Law

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You remember Gonks: foam stuffed cabbage patch dolls born of an oil crisis; Mister Mennish in a way; eminently home-makeable – scissors, clear glue, felts of varied hues & farbs – you got your Gonk! Mine was called Paulus,

after a little gnome who welcomed

all and sundry

to his home.

 

My Personal Paulus disintegrated

after a vigorous thrashing

in our twin tub.

It always had

a masochistic streak…

Buggering Bizet

 

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Windows  windows,

looking inward looking out,

they do not do up and down no more

Could if they had necks,

or long hands and periscopes.

If they were so fortunate,

and with the CCTV linked to the telly

 

But,

that is not the same as a neck of your own to play with…

Inner scented oriental mood,
smartly shoed,
sucking on a Zube,
watching chicks insinuate.
It is now.
Can you imagine
how good that is?
Go on
Then!
~
You are smoking
Casually
Smoking?
On a street corner in the fifties.
You are wearing a hat.
It is a busy street.
High rise buildings.
People. A city. Night. Warm. Promising.
Am I right?
~
Fancy an omelet
I do.
Fresh green salad.
Sounds good.
Let’s go.
what the heck let’s go again at the witterings good work out for the digiits if nothing else.
Cut those nails, Howard Hughes. I implore you. Simply.
we got two zero one nine big time fult tilt bullshit flying oppressive radio waves goodbye to reason
is Prokofiev taking the piss saying look ma no hands to the conservatory
burning leaves with his true love
bitter sweet body of work to discomfort you in you dotage

 

 

 

bLIND bOOKS ( mORsEcODE)

wVgMZI7

 

…nORTH aTLANTIK cONVOY SHIPS kAMU kHAZI flagged cREWED bY sCUM & sAWBONE tAR AND scurvy RUMbLINGS eavesdropped fRoM AN aPPLE cART IN cHAINS sTIngING lIKE THe seaside BEsIDE ThE sEA sTop

Ottie spotted whatshisface darting through the briny meadow chased by awesome owls freshly waxed mauve incandescent as nocturmal  solifluxion  made merry with the crockery

Fleur slashed in the well drawn room acting out all overcome feigning fly girl on a swing sporting giggle and flash Commando Figtree her ruby  lipped succulence but briefly before crashers burst in to nibble little Lavinia, the scuttle fish ghoul. It was a mere afterthought  to tip the wink  to Soames it’s back to basics when the cock crows tango

In the temple Hamish craved his long lost sporren over Arbroath smokies yet on hearing the on stage ructions seized his moment to  make off  with Count Onanski’s hoola hoop on a whim. Oh to see their faces when the word gets out!

‘Slash & Burn. Slash & Burn. That’s all you hear these days…’

‘Oh do shut up and dice up your neeps. My God, is that our Hamish with a famous hoola hoop?

Exclaimed those that knew

After a decade of indwelling Hermione spluttered…

Princess Juliana by Kevin Weir

 

– In about half-four?

Eventless so it is for waiting

here is stifling dull

the enervation so immense

it aches her now

each silly little thing phases you again,

envelopes you in wireless waves,

induces permaflop

On waking up, the news app tells me

all Turks rise up from oppressive sheets

and that a

shocking percentage of  the obese can bend

their slothful feet in the middle at will

Can badgers bend their feet in the middle at will too?

Make a note of that.

–Why bother?

Pop Up!

each  & every time it is written it is read  frequently with a view to publishing, thus revealing the lack of output and quality,

symptomatic of the pernicious drivel of the web, dangling out the sort of wealth that distracts from obscene penury.

The allure compels bad writing like

the ticking off to a nuisance child breeds sullen rage, a temper tantrum never aggravated an annoying fly. In this sea of sludgy dross what chance the poor genius who don’t think in code but coneys?

Self-promotion is the answer we are fed and therein lies the rub.  For being a shy retiring violet with a gargantuan appetite for blood who never courts controversy or mere attention,

my chances of breaking through to international recognition are all but diddley squat

yet still you write, says Pop Up at last

The sun is beginning to shine and I have a Venezuelan cat-burglar cheesy  like a Cheshire Catb getting on the tit; with a little ermine ketchup and sharp scimitar mustard I  will be loin-girded to two-face the travails of fast fake days in real time…

so you pretty much write this garbage to dump it on, to let off steam, move the lonely muscle…?

when you put it like I cry

How do you thing that we feel?

Ecstatic

After you Claudette

found down by folklore

a lush distressed

in the wee small ones

watching moonstones cast white light

enough is more than less than this last line:

‘Careful on that cheap gunge, Sis!’

The wind chides

blue onions kiss

grey skies blush embarassed

‘Do wise so like a wise thing does.

See that Puma dreaming on the bayou

how it not wakes with crazed hunger &

deal with things thought liberated way

back?

It cannot or can it simply not?

For dietary products require

A Cat & Mouse Act

rubber tube for radical effect.

So it’s after you, Claudette then is it?…’

 

 

 

 

 

Sherry Cooking

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A load of dross.

Might brighten up.

Why can’t people be more self-sufficient. Less clingy

Abreaction city daybreak megalopolis: nostalgic be bop hangover, muzzy hood. Leggy.

Lurid memories time, scratching around for wine and beer

watching the clock for relief:

hair loss glances, no known cure, pellucid glimpses, hairy bacon

hollow laughs downstairs; fades in, shades out; short fuse, uproar,

tantrums, grumps, demands, frustration, crash, oblivion.

Oh, what fun we had!

Unmemorable back pages best forgotten.

Dry alcove, Holy bush, smoke less fuel, nine to five.

Louis Armstrong, top Toot of the Wook.

Big Six unearthed in vintage esky

 

Lodger worth a dodge, sober and industrious, plausibly installed, has come home early to be touched:

worm quest, jauntier, shrapnel seed money, six squid a snip,

full of toe curl tales of the loving dead, and the dying I say.

Necessary & unnecessary evils considered sufficient thereof, bad seed diaspora, always a few spoil it for the dunny

First loves end in slender benders. Lifestyle lycanthropes.

Live and lament at your lesion.

Look at the small print bug eyes. detail in the devil. The emotions make easy scapegoats. Shelf fulfilling prophecies past sell by.

errant seed-drill, knave, cad, bounder. Only the lonely need apply

 

Circling before swooping yow saw her, watchful, gliding, waiting,

 

stumble and fall, writhe, twitch, shudder and stop.

Go now.

Dive and perch,

peck and gnaw,

pull and gorge:

To Victor  count despoils,

red tooth, red claw,

crunch and munch.

Veganburger

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