Mondrian Bungee
Shorter
days means shorter lives.
Shorter
hours means shorter drives.
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: Journal
August 12, 2014
Samantha
Willow pith of day
the slow chew,
stranded and dry,
just a whisper
of zest,
nearly a memory
or a whim.
A violin feeds
its newborn
villagers growl
at still
blue trucks,
the hedge wilts
orange wind noise,
washing line tilts
hysterical dervish
wishes for wishes
August 11, 2014
Snug?
Ate and was
on my own
faraway
lackaday
blownaway
Comfy Love?
Big thing asks
me questions – why?
Windshine
Shush-hours
Perfection!
Quote…Unquote follows
So do I?
Yes, I am cold.
How did you guess?
So, to bed after
food and fumigation.
The heavens
piss stones.
An internet crashes.
I get up
A head of steam
radio
July 27, 2014
The Myth of Self-Combustion Exploded
Scraped enough
together
for a pipe.
Skin wild.
Must shower & cream.
Day goes grey
Skin mild.
Did shower & cream.
Day goes by.
Forgot that my mornings
are now free of idiots,
especially Sunday idiots
like me
Test Match: Sunday Start Shock!
- Sin against nature, I say…What, what?
Wrinkled Member explodes
in Long Room
Dull thud in Norwood
Nearly wakes the dead
& the living dead.
July 27, 2014
Kismet
Where’s
a place for us?
There’s
no place for us,
Nowhere
no place for us.
Take my hand
Sit and stare
Take my hand
Share your fear
We’ll find
a new way of dying
We’ll find
a new way of crying
No time,
No hope
No rhyme.
July 27, 2014
Summer Brieze
Sid crows, demi-dawn, cool night breeze folds,
falls from fan.
Remnants remain: crusted, polythene grass;
stale tobacco;
grand damned poems;
the truce is over, the murder is resumed.
Back to where it all began, square one squared,
one more dance, duplicated dalliance.
So the day is done. The same old same old
Step out hand in hand in
Vellum gloves
July 23, 2014
Quashed Tomato
Unreal night
blood damp black
on sun-drenched grass.
No buttercups grow in
Iguana hours: stone dead cicadas
Pop! One more skin shed.
For sale:
A cider press;
Zealous owner.
Time thwitels away,
stops some clocks,
breaks all rocks.
Under moon
The garden blooms.
Thwarts & All.
July 22, 2014
A Beast
Starving
savaged anchovy,
ravaged dry
baguette,
tore off a sockful,
wrapped up shredded limb
A bloodless coup d’ pan complete…
till later:
Part-sated, basking in its modest cranny,
the predator lowers, rests ruminant,
still wanting, just waiting, inhaling, whittling.
July 21, 2014
…it ain’t no sin
The deep, odd, shock of it hit me in the sun
On the shed path, marooned on a concrete crack
Freed up took in the scene, shocked, turned;
Trundled, older, balder, back up the ramp
Freewheeled, calmer, silent, down the ramp
Came to rest beside the stable table,
Tossed my hair (singular) in the blue breeze
And wiped the puss from Barney’s weeping souls.
The moo-cows are gone home to roast
No more mutinous idiots barge in
Decide to play this game of life to win
July 20, 2014
Sanguine Time
The first of the few,
the last of the many,
the next or
the runner-up,
the second last bar none
the rising of the moon
at the setting of the sun
under cypress shadows
wise chrysanthemum
Grimbeau 