Sick Vic
There once was a Dylan called Vicar
In want of some dollar and liquor
So he flew off one day
Got carried away
And promptly got sicker & sicker
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: Poem
October 25, 2014
Sacrum
An old Jew’s harp prism, makes corona
schism, sees the heaven’s children glisten,
heeds bystanders syllogism, shut up
if you care to listen! Says let sly ones be
bygones, give away the ghosts, or a new world
disappears, defy at your peril swell your
placid eyes with tears. Comet’s trails point away
from the sun, seek out a place in deeper space.
For, if this love does not illuminate,
it won’t be for a want of hate for hatred,
dressed up to thrill the fat potentate
his opinion of himself inflated
soon to implode, unconditionally sated.
October 25, 2014
SS Missive
Below decks I ate wild mushrooms in scrambled eggs,
warm Parma ham,and a choice, prime cut, brown bap,
Oodled in buttery herbs, then, replete,
ascended , fortified to sullen work
after a digestive puff
A glimpse of sun is better than none,
must learn to be more grateful for these, my gifts,
the vessel drifts, time floats, ice too.
Less temperate climes, incursive east wind,
will blast and burn, singeing our lashes
saying only we have committed sin
a mortal sin, the sin of not being them.
Leeward, a cacophony and splashes
Dolphins, a school, weirdly mocking, unabashed.
October 25, 2014
Pipedreamer
Plumber’s Sky:
dour Teutonic one,
sad sardonic one,
improving on perfection for the hell of it,
making your own bed, lying in it,
finding your head in clear,
Sea air.
Mummer’s Sky:
sour, demonic one,
crazed hispanic one,
enjoying your rejection for the shell of it,
having you own cake and eating it,
resting your bones over there,
Blue chair
Number’s Sky:
not a chronic one,
a down the drainpipe one,
tolling your bell for the tell of it,
being yourself and loving it,
holding a winning hand,
Deuces
October 25, 2014
21st Century Hands Tied Man
Contagious creed
outrageous seed,
litigious nuns
religious guns,
Canon fodder law,
martial copper law,
common senseless law…
Runaway, runaway, runaway
To where, to where, to where?
Have a week in Mozambique;
worry sheep in Martinique;
act suspicious in Mauritius;
bake Alaska in Madagascar..
Chuck the world in a bucket,
drop it in the wishing well
October 24, 2014
Quiver
‘Sewer grapes, capers, tourque armada…’
Will the din ever cease, what for a moments peace!
Giblets & Ghibellines, a splurge of ante-pastor.
Parricidal, opus deified, maple turnovers,
old sage oakum, and mudlark, turdal
tidal thames, sloops in misty river,
Quiver.
An assignation in Flandirge Veal.
Conspiracy with merge derby, whispers and flies.
Glue the tumbril to the blade.
A deal is made, we swell at dawn to Deptford Dock.
October 24, 2014
Huff
Reggie enraged, Pelvis, cakestand Pioneering joinery… all is envy all is bendy. Mortal coma fruitbat spreads fruitlice, fine toothed comb, fine tooth comb. A flux on all your mouses! …chikken scurry, funny money, the Emile Zola Pianola
October 24, 2014
Willywarmer
She
coughed a cough someone could hear
grabbed and kissed the solid air,
looked into the Frigidaire,
and put away the butter.
He
folded up his underwear,
placed them neatly on a chair,
washed his ears, his nose, his stare,
and went off to play Mah Jong
They
felt the need to disappear,
not another fucking year,
like the last yet more severe,
once they had a future.
That
was a thought that got too near,
pledge to not give in to fear,
get the fuck right out of here,
find a warmer climate
It
is just the time of year,
the fallen apple, the prickly pear
far’s too far, near’s too near
the reason of the season
October 23, 2014
Sheer Good Fortune
…3hrs on a Prox,
the clock struck a passer-by,
who,
deeply gashed,
hailed a passing ambulance on its way,
as luck would have it,
to
a
Sepia
Krankenhouse.
October 23, 2014
Bequem
No aims, no lords, just me, and the sea…
Snug in the lap and rock, the slop and plash
Diving deeper, the sleeper plumbs new depths
Of woozy deep, slithers, warm down the unseeable
Billowing liquid flames of the core, the temenos,
Breeched and hewn by exquisite heat, forging a
Pillowed inglenook in which to mosspot ease.
This is no dark blue luxus dreamt up
in tune or sketch, no symphonic flood,
folk smoke trail stream or ramble.
It lies here with the corpuscle
glitching grike soft timorous in the mammoth,
anemone corner of the one now clear
smiling eye behind the fourth stone.
Grimbeau 