Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: writing

October 30, 2020

Bosola takes a Dip

Setting: Picnic or flu jab hinterland

In your dream scenes
(caution reads: pumpkins squashing galingales);

Salty raging thirst (wonder why not)
Got to get out of this plaice

(socks, shoes, & some means of transport?)
Forthcoming events – domestic drudgery,
tease skunk in garden, stir molten corned beef muesli…

Draungrs fillet cod in their sleep
discearding all its meagre trimmings
in the myrtle oceans deep

Dunnock patrol sweeps
up the primrose lawn prior to snotty
pompous entrance of the Queen of Sheba

Gormless positivity crowds glum punters out
Embedded Jasper stone in troubled forehead
Brecciated third eye squints

Mineral deficiency remedy
Fizzes in blue electric silica
Uncle of the bride makes wind

A virtuous thermal is born
Magic lurks in fits and starts
Fragile as a dovecote’s earrings

Pageboys scatter popcorn on tympani
Jerry built it for doom and duplicity
A loathsome mother superior stalks our every move

Dove henpecks petrified garden gnome
but then it is Wednesday
after all is said: undone

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October 30, 2020

I Entertain the Roosevelts in the Dark

I entertain the Roosevelts after dark;

oranges, Maltesers, tea…
a splash of morph and a chess ,
it does not mean that much to me.
Another week fades
into history,
undead beneath a cypress tree.

Not been out, seen no one, done fuck all,
I have spoken on the phone to people,
my beard is bushy,
my skin is blotchy,
I am more flaccid than overweight.
i have ploughed through old squibs and haikus

i have drained my capacity for self belief
these ruminations
churn out more words that will
never find anothers eyes
this is freedom from responsibility
attained through tedium

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October 27, 2020

Boice

Arfur’s Castle stands remote, aloof, crumbling, on a grassy knoll.

Conquistadores and anchorites

camp out under the stars

on the shore below

silent and brooding in mutual contempt.

A beehive cluster

thrives in the scrub

above the land and sea,

aware of playing

their part in history,

observing from a clod…

peace is bitter, fragile, salt,

cherished and taxed by capricious elements

in unsteady measure.

A bell rings, muffled voices,

Dig out familiar honorifics,

exchange predictive sequences.

A conclusion is drawn.

Visions of safety and despair hug.

News of decay and hope embraced.

The word has been spread.

Something to consider anon.

The nights are long out in the panhandle,

buffalo sedge to plough

when the rains stop flooding the hog pits.

Destiny’s got the whip hand.

Keep your head when all round loses theirs.

Remember the good years in the horn of plenty.

Wind sure picks up in these parts.

Wonder sometimes how

the boys in the Shamrock are getting on.

Is Henry still up to his old tricks?

Boice will never be the same

without him if he took that ride he said.

Still times sure move on.

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October 21, 2020

Toward a Greater Madchester!

Rolling around weighing up the options for the next phase?
Life is what happens when you are making other plans

So you like pith then
Are you buying or selling?

online depersonalization bureaucracy rears its ugly head
academic qualification or hiding behind mummy’s skirts throwing stones from the long grass?

Be brutally honest. Crap at deadlines and references, useless file organizer, prone to rage and self-destructive fugues.

Would Tai chi & yoga not be better for you?
Are you a glutton for punishment, trial by ordeal, the futile fight unto the death of all hope.

Yes, most of the time
A glutton for punishment then?
A glutton full stop.

Do not publish this even when the urge to fill the void is huge
Anything to avoid a haircut and a shower

Have another cigarette…
I shouldn’t really

Why do anything anyway?
Your crap at life let’s face it.

Suppose so…

It’s all on the internet anyway if you really want or need to know
True

Better to get out more, meet new people to glower at
Yea, Glower Power—sounds catchy

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October 8, 2020

Smoothfield

Podeless in oblivion tis pureest natch dat travellers seeking succour find
’em has gorrabit of access to the mutternet if need be:
straw tenuous although that link may be.
thus a birra jigger-pokery is requiredto ob besties.
Second lockdown ja looks a cert.
I meekly flag up whysolation to The Big Surge?
Honesty is a policy best served coldy .
Sunny one out there.
Lads next door let of steam in the bobalink garden.
Here all is nessum dorma.
First smooth morning turdrum
Forged in loving memory
delivered with panache…
Wile chalking on the cobweb wall.

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October 6, 2020

Windbags & Old Lags

Below a bleak zoo
on an inhibited earth
where a bawd of directors
calls the shots
where the whitehouse turns to sickhouse
and cottage hospitals to cheap hotels
Sent an encrypted message to Trudi
eavesdropped by earwigs
who hang fire on the scrupulous
order to make picture houses shut down
as the Chessington Hippos
wallow in deep pink shallows
eavesdropped also by earwigs
chomping shallow blue tomatoes

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September 18, 2020

Dido & Aeneas Bust

…so they posted all marked
‘Return to Sunder’ and wiped up the wine
stains on the amphitheatre
Dumped the crap on the ancient garbage heap
festooned with the memory of abject voices
moaning on the tundra
A frail insouciance emerges while scrolling down for snippets
to tempt you into a look ma no hands
its me alone before a suspect device
that makes me feel
uncomfortable pouring out my soul
like this online bleeding
out in public on anonymous lockdown
streets in full view of the lonely
avenue where Junior Wells plays harp to passers
by who look up in curiosity only to
discover a chancer with delusions of grandeur
in a panama hat sucking toothless
gums for tasty titbits after an obstinate
chip of stale pitta induced spluttering and panic
before being washed down with a gulp
of cold Columbian coffee then a twinge
in the middle finger
whose name is forgotten
next to the index and ring
on the left hand so what is the right little sad
if nameless call it unknown soldier
close to one of two little piglets

What to play on a rainy day?
Indoor or outdoor games of the mind…

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September 17, 2020

Just Sigh

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

St Within cherishes rainy days as so many ready made excuses
to avoid demanding chores that lurk in the soggy world out there.
Looking out on a rainy day as sweet chill air rolls in
Wide open window admitting sound of water
Thud of splash on nettle;
rustlings hid under the undergrowth;
blackbird tweets and car doors percuss.
Wet days recalled holed up in a vellum sprite
Cheap drains spewing rainjuice
Psyche found thrumming on the cheap tin roof.
—
Plans jottings quips amount to owt…
rain she surges in the west,
Sniffs palm oil tankers torched in the gulf of Oman
Lar committed to who knows what cause or other.
Beers and bed . Terry robbed. Midsummer 2019.
Toerag blues play out.
Regrettably like Sundays
Just Sigh
Just Sigh

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

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September 17, 2020

Parlyhouse

Photo by Jayant Kulkarni on Pexels.com

Slept too long and late it seems
awoke in plague dry springtime
when it dawned on me
it was sleek midwinter
a white island volcano clears its throat
in ducal disapproval
at such ignorance in Plenty Bay
and sends five hikers to their eternal reward
they perished on the non event horizon
for all black holes must eat eachother in the end
no doubt a pompous rumpus will ensue
in the Parlyhouse on the way back down
is this the best that can be done before
a cruel soul sacrifice is ordered?

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July 23, 2020

Who is Julia?

The meeting of the legspurts went swimmingly and crucial decisions for the next fortnight were agreed,
prescriptions were exhanged fully aware that it was a chance to check out whose who at Newbury Zoo

Loops and Bubbles mingle round the burning monk poffering fresh faggots to kill the time between
events in need of management: to err on the side of caution and riddle the fire with care.

We agree the rules of engagement for long time ahead encounters for ‘I am not Daniel fucking Blake
or Guy the bleedin’ Gorilla. Scripts changed hands in blind faith and we parted on good squirms.

Stricken while the summer quells the rabble with crowdless spectacles and canned hubbub. Dicing
with disaster down the monkey menders. Snakes eyes in a sterile mask runs the flicker show.

Two seals on a dragon trend on suspect media. Strange news from another star. Spouts a humane policy
:count you fingers first. Jaded by disfigurement we plough the short and narrow.

Have they got the urn yet? Couple of shovels of ash and bone tasteful in majolica. Not a municipal jar
Spilt in the boot of the car. Shunted by the masked mammy on the school run.

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