Hue & Cry
Prematurely
summoned
by hounds
alarmed by slams & shouts –
sound carries well under cold white floret clouded skies –
Cauliflower sharp acoustics
Keen the acute
Well-honed
Canine ear
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: Home and Garden
January 30, 2015
The Subtefuge
Under the weather’s
Consistent disappointments
Sly Sleet sinuates –
Adversity revels
In Tombstone pistol whippings
Fatuous sunbeams –
indifferent to fluey colds –
wait above the storm
concocting arcane
ruses, kidding us Tom Fools
January 28, 2015
Paulus the Gonk
Gonks: remember them?
stuffed baize effigies, hand size
Felted arms, legs, hands
Little humpty-dumpties
Head on the body
Jumper pulled over head
Secret policemen
Cook’s Wisty Armageddon
Cheap mister-mannish
dolls born in an oil crisis;
industrial strife
times when lights went off at ten
Mine was called Paulus,
A little gnome who welcomed
You to his home in
Densest Pogle’s Wood
It disintegrated
After various drubbings
in the old twin tub
with a sadistic streak
Gonks became old hat
Space Hoppers were the next fad
Never had one, still drives me mad.
January 28, 2015
Snowdrops
Four walls
do not a prison
make,
nor iron
bars a cage
there’s other
stuff
as well
January 26, 2015
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
January 26, 2015
Pushbike
Sudden as love it’s eight thirty.
Two & a half hours faffabout
oiling de railleur on rusted bikes;
clearing the drain with willow and prunes;
mumbling out of turn on the chain gang.
Serene cupidities conspire
Wilfully, making sense sensitive.
Hours with feet up.
Doing the log thing.
Eight a night
Five a day
For a week
Brown and sultry planning permissions
Granted! Today we sail on Braintree.
January 25, 2015
The Temptation of Spare Paint
What
is this life
if full of
care
a lethal
retro
frigidaire.
January 25, 2015
The Offering
Perchance
or deft planning
a scoop of baleful altar wine remains,
though not for long.
Rite of Spring:
callow neighbours nail eachother
to the paper partition wall – time
honours these home county behaviours –
some wayward blood drips through on this side,
my side.
I observe with some disdain treacly crimson goo
impinge clematis and home entertainment cables,
the main arteries of
reality are besmirched….
The orphan stale ham salad roll awaits
Ravenous, cavernous engorgement,
yields a surge of purpose, of demented potency,
to cut the crap,
make one’s mark,
utter and act.
January 24, 2015
Mates Motel
This
Weekend will comprise one diamond guest:
Familiar, nosey, potty, bumptious…
What is guest? A wayfarer, a punter,
A complicit victim of hospitality!
This is not a motel, there are no
Bed & Breakfast signs, no spiteful
Waiters spitting in the soup. No Bill.
Just the old, battered emotional baggage to
Attend to, false dawns, a restless farewell.
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…
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