Dotty
Do you, like I, miss Phyllis Diller
And all the other
little Dillers.
Arthur & Henry
To name
But
Two
&
Their father
Windy
Of course
No, Diller, dear – Diller!
I’m sorry to be the one to tell you
Dear, but she’s passed.
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: Arts
January 22, 2015
Homespun Truths
you can’t crack
an omelet
without
breaking eggs.
&
you can’t pin
a femur
without
broken legs
January 22, 2015
Ear Blaze
…something moved me
stopped me in my steps
left me here
teetering
Prone as
a Wallander
on a curved
barbed wire
January 22, 2015
Innit?
Sleek
abysmal dancer witters on:
‘…got a Twitter, Andy tweeted. So,
I tweeted back. How we tittered.’
I looked out on the ragged garden:
taken a good winter battering, well
grazed by bold Sussex Hens
(the dog is indoors a lot of late).
My word mind lands on ‘Topiary’:
Sculpted hedgerow dinosaurs;
Gothic ramparts; all shapes phallic,
A racing car with driver, a duck,
Oh, and a family of elephants.
And nearly lost to reason I paused
And came to my senses.
The duties of the day press in:
Wake the dead, feed the head,
Clean up, sit up, sit down,
wash my feet, eat…
Tweet
January 21, 2015
Wystopia
Mauden – Nite Male Rubba Dub.
Heads up, there – A Riviera!
No Pushy-Pushing Now.
Duck the Punches! No pulling mind.
Here comes delight.
Da-da-da-dumdum.
Sing a Song of Songs sung Blue.
From Synapse to Prolapse:
A Curt History of Rapture.
Psychosyllables care of Dr. Egg;
tosh-tish-tosh;
plinketyppyplonk.
Bad reviews, bad previews –
Bumful of bad bananas for the drop.
Plop.
Hanging is ungood for the hangee.
Flash-flesh-flush.
Press & Whoosh: all dunned.
Mr. Turd says,
‘Now wish your wands!’
Now.
Go think yourself as water,
as liquid water under ice,
uninstilled.
Like this: churning, filling, spilling, welling,
willing, milling. Flossing.
Morris Flossing.
Big chews and tobacco spats.
A la mode: Discommode.
The Carps Barp.
January 20, 2015
An Hour Glass
Just
as she opened
the gifts
Time went
Whistling
Trill
Lilts and Airs
Tingling
Fingering
Sneaking
previews – a scented
Complimentary
Card read:
‘Be not hurt by these
small tokens. Love
Jocasta.’
She
Convulsed
With warm lament
for one hour
summer’s
nitrous
salt rain
subsumed
in silence.
January 20, 2015
Your Emanence
Summoned by Ma Bell’s
voicemail.
The Judge is ill
till next Tuesday.
Keep pecker aloft, one counsels:
Assume gung-ho veneer;
Lacquer stiff upper quiff.
Tally-Ho
Outside is frozen angelica tundra.
Sun glints melt lucky buds. A hedge is
Razed.
How I love the smell of napalm of a morning…
January 18, 2015
When Laestrygonians Attack!
Save that, Patroclus!
It’s
Midday plus
five.
Hazy Sunday afternoon.
Luncheon?
Fishcakes & ptarmigan droppings.
Not again,
Pen
What happened to the marmoset wellington?
The Ogres, I suppose.
Eyes bigger than their stomachs, those lads.
Gluttons with mutton.
Ask Old Shep.
January 18, 2015
Manoeuvres
Boiled eggs,
two soft boiled eggs,
four minutes sortie,
give or take a few spoonrides
for immersion and rescue –
tense moments, critical mass.
Two slices of toasted oatmeal brown:
four buttered diagonals, obtuse triangles,
bread hats for bald coolies in monsoon, torn
to shreds by bare hands for dipping soldiers
and to perform mopping up ops in egg, salt and pepper theatre.
January 18, 2015
True Rumours
The year is shaping,
form finds content in
mulch and gunge,
from primal gloop comes novelty
Everything assumes a name:
Rose, Spud, and Daisy to name but three.
And this year’s offspring: Prim, Tatty, and Iris.
Pleasant thoughts to have for sure.
Looking forward to plenty more.
Signs of hope…
Bang!
I kid you not.
The dog just barked.
Here’s the cops.
Grimbeau 