…turn over an old leaf
A good evening
all in all.
Neither short
nor tall.
Just right.
Like
Spaniel ears
Or
Tapwater
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: Literature
July 11, 2014
Nanette
She
Yellow
Cowled, pock-marked
Pale chuff faced,
Sidles,
Stumbles
Ghostly
Inside Chapel Cell,
Her Holy hidey-hole,
Up the duff,
recently gin & needled
She
dropped like a sock,
and in that drop got
relegated,
denigrated,
emasculated from Herstory,
babeless scrawl on nameless wall.
No net
you see:
no more net
Nanette.
July 8, 2014
Great White Pass On By
Shoulder roller
Savonarola
swimming backwards
In shirt infested waters.
Pause for Jaws:
Basking post-prandial,
Replete of:
Bellyful of Quint,
skinny dipper,
Stray Daytripper,
clumsy nipper.
My luck is in!
Time to try
Some butterfly
July 7, 2014
Escape Velocity
The power set at constant max
Mind’s Eye emerges from start surge to
pure pace
A golden arrow flashes darting past.
Lee J Cobb. Wrong Cobb. Donald?
No, that was Campbell.
Google it, live & learn.
Pull the search engine up,
load it with a boulder, wind it up, and release.
Downwind we hear
no screams or impact
As if it never happened
July 6, 2014
Jesters at Vespers
After Sylvester evensong, Loyola piped up:
‘Out with the Pianola!’
And
(As Nasturtiums have for donkey’s years)
We were ready to kick out the jambs
The Easter Lambs & heaven could wait a quarter
Priscilla the Pig, our Abbot, dressed as Emile Zola
Got the ball rolling with the much lauded Tombola.
A fine thing, like some tradition,
The Tombola of the Tropaeolum:
We put our Bull into a hat
Pull out the winner
And a new year
Doctrine is chosen
A fresh true rumour
To add to the credo
This is followed by
A game of sardines
An eternal favourite
July 6, 2014
Factory Records
I
have neither direct pictorial
nor documentary evidence for it,
my first quarter on earth,
except
what those directly involved have told me,
confirmed by their satellites.
All a bit vague if you think about it
The first thought is adoption,
the second hospital error,
third,
unwanted from a relative or neighbour;
alien invasion,
Son of God,
& Timewarps
follow once you start.
(At least it was not Shandy Hall and its annoying horology).
I
did see my mum from time to time
in her incubated space.
She smiled from hollow cheeks
fought the maggots eating the belly wound
from where I had been sprung.
My dad was shy and did not get pushy
about seeing me till things calmed down a bit.
He did not pick me up and rock me till we got home:
After he did I never cried again, it is said.
July 5, 2014
Pelaton!
Galactic dawn,
wet as water:
Ponds ’r’ Us!
Like a mucky duck
the weatherman
walks on warm, thin ice,
looking up anxiously
Sees
serene green scene
creams obscene
at tulips pouting,
kind epileptic fish,
sanguine potholed saucepans
latterday Saturday vertebrae.
Endless list: catalyst.
We swoon,
shrug it off,
embrace
&
turnover leaves
July 3, 2014
A Bird: tender & anxious
Soft…
What light
Through yonder
Window breaks?
Ssssh!
Merely
A wayward
Cormorant
Called Deirdre
Or so I heard
July 3, 2014
Angleterre
When I once sat upon a bench
I felt that I was almost French
July 3, 2014
Byrdsongs
Talk is Buses:
Pubic transport
Greenline fine?
Not grotesque
But Divine
Grimbeau 