Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: writing

time to open up…

…belated birthday cards
cautiously pessimistic
murmur down below…

Will there still be Fennel cakes & Indian ale for tea?

mauve creams &  nice ointments salve
bruises aches lacerations
let us sing a daft song of sixpence
Baked in an Bean

 
Miser winds up radio
Widower haunts bungalow
Ghost of Xmas done

 
Sweet pea inside glum drum hums
My favourite things
Howls for hope & provenance
Thinks like ships in bottles
How did they get there?
Most of them sleepwalked
Others saw the writing
On the wall·

still do
mussed by brutal firelight

Bookworming

Worldly Weirdo Maps
Corpulent regent’s belly
Full of wind & piss
Town & Vandal Planning Act
Gargantuan appetite
Slimmer of the Year
Just resist everything
Butt redemption
Handy disapproval
in your inner ear
False conch shell less
Previous tenant—
A mongoose called Fred
Swapped strange towns for elephants
& monopods for dogmen—
Many unhappy returns
To Jerusalem & Beyond…

Cornflex

Now consider this
Photoshop malingering
Hanging on the wall
Still life crow reservation
Clambering for attention
ascending F6

Nothing better to do
Fifty eighth birthday climb
Panoramic view
Bewilderment as far as
Cloud cover permits
smart eye to wonder

This advantage point
Affords no contradiction
Crazy hawks circle
Contemplating Toblerones
Fraught with anticipation
oozing saliva
Eschatology dribbles
Drips from slow airliners
Replicate drizzle
Reichenbach or Angel Falls
Smatters not to I & i
under the rainbow

Chrimbo Limbo

Winter showers
Daylight hours
Few & far between
Fear no fear
Brand new year
Cloudy muddy scene

Chrimbo limbo days
Wasteland takeaways
bio-degrading phase
till St. Bridget’s Day

After showers
Lamplight hours
Near and close between
Far off spring
Bluebell ring
Rowdy crowded dream

Honky Tonk Shaman…

Timidly in new boots & scanties
Checking through messages
Lost in space in time
Pull blinds back…one two three cars

Unusual: three suspect pallets
strew non-conformist corners
heads jack-knifed on thin ice
black hole spills its load

All is quiet on New Year’s Day
Repeats on me like
Suspect mackerel
Wished my nostrils

happy birthday
Instead of New Year
Onset doolally
Or transubstantiation?

The clue lies in the carpet—
Cleopatra is present
If not quite with it
Still beggars can’t be choosers
& Donald where’s your trousers?
The wind blows high blows low
Over hollow land
Silly Land

Penultimatum

Enshrouding us all
consumptive sageful frozen
fog obscures year’s end
taking one more day for granted
gormless formless fug
makes a list worth forgetting
declaring snidely:
auctions speak louder than words
citing crumbling masonry
ebbing sands of time desist
Soft! A milkman clinks
Stumbles through blue gloop fetching
discounted chocolates all
the way from bonny Belgium
and bumper size toilet rolls
meticulously trialed on
pliant Labrador puppies
in magnolia kennels

 

Early Magic Bus

grimbeau's avatarGrimbeau

great_historic_photographs_640_02

sun don’t work today

sits on neon omnibus

weeping like a baby

jackdaw trapped in hearth set free

safe home now comrade raven

acknowledge the greatest

dreams keep their own diaries

float like an anapaest

from here to eternity

stinging butterfly

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A Work of No Literary Merit

grimbeau's avatarGrimbeau

HST

Five hundred before

legendary lost lunchtime

Torrential London

buses, easy similes,

heavy workload for

eternal editors,

that which is permanently

out to luncheon,

wield escutcheon spoon

limply with panache

seas contain plenty fishes

most worth throwing back

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Ectopuss

grimbeau's avatarGrimbeau

oakoak8_260714

kept from the saddle by sleep and cider,

nestled in this cluttered room, this dimlit

hibernation station, wallow fallow in

the gathered gloom, the afternoon moon

this is the time for those who dream in daytime,

those who gather and hunt, those who like me

watch from windows, making shade from shadow,

form from substance, the things that dreams are made on.

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Whistles

grimbeau's avatarGrimbeau

Glisten

Sheer sparkling wit,

wild infant crazy hopes,

whose voices, too true, call to us all

like spooks

Whistles and rattles

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