The Temptation of Spare Paint
What
is this life
if full of
care
a lethal
retro
frigidaire.
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: Poem
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 25, 2015
Woodstock
Winston Churchill resonates at times.
These are some
hummings
Of my head…
Beaches, dog insurance, dead
Iron curtain, cigars, up yours,
Yankee cigarettes, Ray with an E, Smith,
bon viveur, bon mots, monarchista, landscape artist,
Black dog, Gallipoli, Narzees, Tonypandy,
Nobel prize for War, bricklaying, never surrender,
Field of human suffrage, chicken, neck,
Clemmie, Dundee Cake, warmonger,
Imperialist, always a bit pissed,
Figure of hate, derision, exasperation,
Fun, bore,enough.
January 24, 2015
Alice Springs
The Pelican’s
Moored quayside;
Newly Clipped
& Trimmed:
Larboard
harboured
barbered
crimped
shrimplines
ripple
A poodle –
Kingsized,
Going
by the
name
Alice…
(plaintive, insistent yell on shoreline, middle-distant)
Doggy-paddles
pristine
past
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 23, 2015
Noema
Merleau-Ponty
& Charlotte Bronte
Went out for a meal
He hazarded the haggis
She indicated veal
January 23, 2015
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.
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…
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Grimbeau 