What was the whisper of the sea?
Around the balustrade
What was the whistle of the sea?
Who cast me in this mystery?
When is the start of history
What was the whisper of the sea,
Around the balustrade.
Yellow is blue
The sun is gray
A sizzling sausage goes cold and older
The scythe rests in the mellowed sun
Concorde eases a troubled shoulder
Gray is blue
The sun is yellow
Heroin Sonnet (One line is absent!)
Vermont’s Original Bag Balm tin laments
a pair of glasses (snapped for advertising
porpoises!), the child’s toy tractor, green
gin trapped naturally: there is floral décor
garish redolent of that chocolate
box, or some Huntley & Palmer’s biscuit tin
containing uncut Ammanford smack?
They ran him in, they ran him down: Besmirched
his name all over town. Self-righteous lazy
solemn nonsense! So, all good things must end
in silence. They were wankers and they
knew it; and he, apothecary, James
E. Blewitt refused to play their silly games.
Thursday, 06 June 2013
1:06 PM
‘…a morning of many tempos – pleasant sunshine and a graceful arrival in the crowsnest, a contemplative shower; yet, the insistent repetition of the alarm clock was a portent. On arriving downstairs, I have to confront, singlehandedly, a defiant and barren hen about to ravish the spinach. Staged mayhem results in a cleaning frenzy of the clutter below and the retreat of Sloth in a Huff to her coop after having to do something…’
Popeye spent the rest of the morning ambulating on the zimmer between house and garden: stretching parchment legs, listening to Beethoven, smoking tabs, avoiding dogshit, avoiding humanshit, relaying coffee cups…result: relaxed exhaustion and sunny alienation in the atmosphere of poisoned, silent dispinachment…
‘…Do not take your hand out of the fire.’
He took his hand out of the fire. He did it every day after he was told not to. One day he will not be told and he will burn.
disseminate the creasote,
eliminate the soft soap,
perpetrate a bank job,
and don’t mess with canneloni beans
You’ve not to…
obliviate the blue note
denigrate an old scrote,
consummate a dead goat
and then defenestrate the queen
look at the sun
it’s great fun
make yourself blind
and then it’s done
darkness ain’t all bad
remember to…
make a resolution
to eat a rosicrucean
and celebrate confusion
and don’t go to sleep before your dreams
One more time!
Don’t go to sleep before your dreams…yeah!
Tonnes
Of Sonnets,
One net son,
Stone nots,
Nests,
Onset tones,
Snot.
Soft font
Toff
Notes
On
Foxes
Sent
Off
She Sings Good
Way downstream in
Sleeping Waters rise
Spring tides surge.
How very dare I meet her now,
brave the dangerous voyage?
The grass lies down in the valley below
Where milk cows ominous sit.
After hands work scripts that never end
Dawn to dusk when the cuckoo spits
Grimbeau 