To Your Health
People that
Live in
stone
Houses ought
Not throw
glasses
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Category: writing
August 12, 2014
Samantha
Willow pith of day
the slow chew,
stranded and dry,
just a whisper
of zest,
nearly a memory
or a whim.
A violin feeds
its newborn
villagers growl
at still
blue trucks,
the hedge wilts
orange wind noise,
washing line tilts
hysterical dervish
wishes for wishes
August 11, 2014
Snug?
Ate and was
on my own
faraway
lackaday
blownaway
Comfy Love?
Big thing asks
me questions – why?
Windshine
Shush-hours
Perfection!
Quote…Unquote follows
So do I?
Yes, I am cold.
How did you guess?
So, to bed after
food and fumigation.
The heavens
piss stones.
An internet crashes.
I get up
A head of steam
radio
July 29, 2014
Richard & Alexander
So…
It is not clever to be clever Dick
It is not smart to be smart Alec
And…
It is not clever to be smart Dick
It is not smart to be clever Alec
Or…
It is not smart to be clever Dick
It is not clever to be smart Alec
Whatever became of Dick & Alec:
Tragicomic or Comitragic?
July 28, 2014
Gloamlight
Dusk come dark
drapes half drawn
Hear a bark
feel a yawn
July 28, 2014
The Shaping Forecast
…& more sleep.
Got stuck in slough slow bowls,
a stray sky blue smurf sought my company;
fleeting scalpel sunshaft burst
fairly snapped me out.
Make decisions for soul provisions – finance pimples as ever.
Monday’s food is Sunday’s mood.
Trying to loosen, and keep loose,
neck and shoulders.
Right arm troubled.
Go with the pain, pleads the pain.
No dreams just fleeting night moods, wafts,
misted fiats coloured
greyblue, greenish, mushy.
Sea White
see-through shadows
Ectofilmstars;
uncast off, harboured beyond sleep,
half-waked.
Bay low voices mumble, whisper:
Get up and water the source
July 27, 2014
The Myth of Self-Combustion Exploded
Scraped enough
together
for a pipe.
Skin wild.
Must shower & cream.
Day goes grey
Skin mild.
Did shower & cream.
Day goes by.
Forgot that my mornings
are now free of idiots,
especially Sunday idiots
like me
Test Match: Sunday Start Shock!
- Sin against nature, I say…What, what?
Wrinkled Member explodes
in Long Room
Dull thud in Norwood
Nearly wakes the dead
& the living dead.
July 27, 2014
Kismet
Where’s
a place for us?
There’s
no place for us,
Nowhere
no place for us.
Take my hand
Sit and stare
Take my hand
Share your fear
We’ll find
a new way of dying
We’ll find
a new way of crying
No time,
No hope
No rhyme.
July 27, 2014
Summer Brieze
Sid crows, demi-dawn, cool night breeze folds,
falls from fan.
Remnants remain: crusted, polythene grass;
stale tobacco;
grand damned poems;
the truce is over, the murder is resumed.
Back to where it all began, square one squared,
one more dance, duplicated dalliance.
So the day is done. The same old same old
Step out hand in hand in
Vellum gloves
July 23, 2014
Quashed Tomato
Unreal night
blood damp black
on sun-drenched grass.
No buttercups grow in
Iguana hours: stone dead cicadas
Pop! One more skin shed.
For sale:
A cider press;
Zealous owner.
Time thwitels away,
stops some clocks,
breaks all rocks.
Under moon
The garden blooms.
Thwarts & All.
Grimbeau 