Approaching Capricorn
Dark December days
Half-Six is the new midnight
Feel submission creep
Torpid longshore drifting by
Dull indolent dynamic
Go light a candle
White wax lyrical yellow
Life enhancing sun
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Category: writing
December 12, 2017
slipper-sucker
Sucking on a nostril
Appeasing my foe with
overzealous and thus
insincere, boorish
thin disatisfactory
reassurances. Bowing
scraping my most sincere
commitment to non-violent
intervention at this
watershed in the process.
Well, what d’you reckon they made of that?
Sage and prudent, perhaps
A bit gushing, retreat
In the face of hassle?
Then again there may be
Ideological or
Theological blocks.
One cannot discount
Sheer cowardice in
The face of the enemy.
Then there is the absence
Of teeth to be taken
Into consideration.
December 12, 2017
Grumblin’ Jock Spruce considers…
matters of style and technique, approaches, points of view and sacred, boxed in genre put me right
first thing in the morning. Most days listen for a convenient excuse to be deterred and wonder why you feel desperate and frustrated!
Last night was the coldest of this year. All the vulnerable people are dead. Time for a new start— sounds harsh,
that’s the way the cookie crumbles when posh comes to shove. I look forward with rage to the slender frozen sea and contemplate the seasons
try not to be such a smartass playing with stolen uranium or Persephone will hang around for long, infertile weeks
dialogue is all you have in an oral culture, says the radio to itself and move on to what’s trending on social media
the Scriblerus Club convenes on the Mall for its Festive knees-up and annual not much to report but Grenfell now
December 7, 2017
On Terra Firma
Three o’clock round up
Slug slime wakes smear shadow crooks
criss-cross flat parsley bush
Two stroke mosquitoes falter
Visible winds splutter ugly truths
Stoptember warnings ignored
Malice once a far thought
landgrabs Terra incognito
~
It was said she perished strapped
Inside a yearning building
Firebranded radicals
Did their very best
Sent cucumber sandwiches
waved pomegranate petards
Malice once a far thought
On terra firma takes root
~
December 1, 2017
blue rumours
~ spook sure discombobulate, sheet white Joe Tin lopes egg shell wary these days, once this rookie journeyman peels opens shed door flaps, flour waves sprinkle fond farewellies to all that’s powder
~ crystal ghost ships croak wretched raspers, gurgling clover bloated wind smote sheep disgrace abrasive grassland, all accomplished under wheezing smiles oxygen assisted daybreak yields pink linctus…
~measure by measure spondules droop, eyelids refuse to blink, can openers duck issues, a smoking bun is found malingering by the oildrums, Cheeseman overegged the custard slices just for old times sake
December 1, 2017
Effluenza
She
coughed a cough someone could hear
grabbed and kissed the solid air,
looked into the Frigidaire,
and put away the butter.
He
folded up his underwear,
placed them neatly on a chair,
washed his ears, his nose, his stare,
and pulled of his pyjamas
They
felt the need to disappear,
not another fucking year,
like the last yet more severe,
once they had a future.
That
was a thought that got too near,
pledge to not give in to fear,
get the fuck right out of here,
find a warmer climate
It
is just the time of year,
that makes you cry into your beer,
put a candle in your ear
and bake you own Alaska.
November 24, 2017
The Dread Aftermath of Naked Gambolling
yet another
clam-bake
funday
a diddle-dee-dum day
a sufficiency of sun day
a my god what have I done day;
subsequently,
red raw
Bum Day
November 11, 2017
Nightshed
Ophelia seethes stallion temperatures reach levels just plain unacceptable for mid-Julys when calendars roamed the earth—pregnant with rampant satyr—tiny pitta patter of cloven hooves stirring the cauldron pot—rupture fakes junk tradition like salmon mimic poodles
Winsome day stares, lysine satyrs make hay fore smoothies some crushed thing feels velvet ice, starfruit guilt on lanoline, fevers deliver us from antiseptic chores, come five it should be done and dusted for the heirophant
Whose runestones sully my chemise? The permanence of outrage conceals mendacious logic. Watch dust settle fast like loopy gifs. I picked up pretending I was stoical like soggy tapioca blinds. Strange these thoughts of red meat, fish and fratricide, playing on my lyre
Rinsing dishes salves scene three: just bear in mind the tea towels conspire like mathematicians in seemingly random numbers, that’s when the claxon insists on sacrificial offerings of three day old goat’s milk sorbet and bluebells
November 10, 2017
Tom Fool’s Blues
Who put the clocks out?
eight minutes to four
undersleeping is lethal
April foolishness
or was it Blue Leicester cheese
or Port Talbot Steelworks
Back to bed with you!
~
summoned by canine smells
green poetics
Which is it to be today
Pranksta or Gangsta?
Always read between the lines
~
unlike You the truth
is never plain nor simple
You know who you are
capitalism eats itself
corrupted algorithm
no one takes the rap
Grimbeau 