An hour fades


slows to sluggish slog,

An idle creak,





Puke rebuke,

obscene repeat,

then retreat,



music plays:



an dispatched

Watch Clock Watch…


Eight bells, sundown…

Molten golden idling gown, catch worm casts

shadow lampshades gloam, come dance this

light’s fantastical…

Remember whimsical?

Critical, you must do,

Momentary, exemplary, contemporary

fly toff fancy, impish man, cuneiform

zero: trousers inside underpants!

See small things fade insignificant, rhubarb

Leaf green mottle release sorb daub…One bell,

Mr Sundowner, that race is well run, just

glad it was when it was, time and place past,

inspired, the candle understands. Lights on…

Sunburst Blemish



Half-Eight wait

Coffee pot sunk,

Clunk, glug drunk,



amber green

blue morning,

slosh galoshed

plum blinkered,

spooning gate


wretched short

phase too

brief fleet

on two

hour glass.


Tangerine days,

tamarind leaves,

verdigris craze,

sunflower lumber


Sing off tune songs,

whistle dry




Oils marzipan,

line Rumour

Road milk

road with


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



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.

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.





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,


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




‘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,


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.




Reggie enraged,

Pelvis, cakestand

Pionery joinery…

all is envy

all is bendy.

Mortal coma

fruitbat spreads


fine toothed comb,

fine tooth comb.

A flux on all your mouses!

…chikken scurry,

 funny money,

 the  Emile








coughed a cough someone could hear

grabbed and kissed the solid air,

looked into the Frigidaire,

and put away the butter.



folded up his underwear,

placed them neatly on a chair,

washed his ears, his nose, his stare,

and went off to play Mah Jong



felt the need to disappear,

not another fucking year,

like the last yet more severe,

once they had a future.



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



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

Sheer Good Fortune



…3hrs on a Prox,

the clock struck a passer-by,


deeply gashed,

hailed a passing ambulance on its way,

as luck would have it,








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.

Tarn Dinghy


Sleepy John Sideways

leftsides, cocooned, pilled,

double egged, buttered, toasted

snoods with paddies, void of form,

contactless, warmgloved, burbling

fungus imp blooms via

lenseless nosepinchers,

splatburst on malmet axminster,

pile or wanton called by siren

earthpull bells.

Gonzalo’s Tale



Another bitty night, the wind’s to blame,

the Ham, the game, the Cheese, they all took part,

but did not do what you did, Maria…

You sly one, you twisted, silent, deadly sister

Due to your emission,  I will suffer

endless tumult and derision and you will

live to lie in pastures new as if butter did not melt

Guts are a bit choppy, the wind’s to blame

I explain to the assembled throng who

Conclude it was me, not you who caused the pong

Now, simpled, feeling a complicit tool

You play it Cool, queen the art of cool,

woman’s grudge is women’s definition,

Powder your nose, pass the ammunition.


Pussy Cat Rap



Morning, blowy,

took a crap, dog came down,

took a crap, had a nap.

That was that.


Seconds out.

Up again, honour bound,

only sound wind

blowing round,


that was earlier

when I was churlier.

better now,

curlier, burlier,

furrier, purrier…

This is no laughing matter



Baddo, Saddo, Drongo


met a Bimbo

got a Crimbo

robbing Glasgow

lost in limbo

near to Kelso

minus Bimbo

she’s in Congo

teaching Tango

learning Bongo

going solo,

not so Asbo

he got nicko

sent him downo

a short spello

in the clinko

watching Porno

playing Bingo!

Dejeune Dada





some deaf, bewildered beast,

slopes in slow, bright, sane delight…


Brown Ground drowned,

Sound wind opaque,

Cimarron smokey lake

flock tactile mural peak

Cowling  dented tin wind,

Taste hot silent sin

Away! Cooling. Down…


…Meet and Eat

Alfresco with Francesco

Baked Alaska? Alabaster

Just in time


Old war wound

Tarsal fracture.

Wholemeal bread

Cardtrick wine





two rooms and garden


pock marked pocket penguin



Pendine’s Sands mortal,

Golden arrowhawks


 Hold the knife that kissed Lucretia

one pearl morning in the garden


opal raindrops

 on the counterpane.


the cap fits

Go and wear it well.


Quit that crap, Shortly…



Due for nibbles shortly!

I wish they would stop calling

Me that: they know it’s a slur,

A perceptual


That belittles & demeans

Swimming Anapurna

A defecating sperm whale off the coast of Sri Lanka.

Downstairs to slug coffee, force down strychnine,

hug a cheroot, feel by  torch candlelight,

and  feed radio psychoanalysts

projected on Radio 4Extra,

you are returned to the bridge to listen

witness an avuncular anarchist

fulminating with aplomb on YouTube.

Audacious, loquacious, outrageous fun…

Black Spotty reads my mind,

a loose-lipped letter box clatters,

the north country wind growls.

A black salesman perishes at sea,

a crocus folds its snowflake blouse,

and a warm cat plays tenor fiddle

Sleight of Hand



After all the vulcanised wind has blown


Hell has frozen under

Bend like a flamingo bends

Down there by your enchanted valise


Will be surprised to find

The opal twin set and furls

Yes! The one you got last Wednesday


The Quartz Mausoleum

of Semi-Precious Love

Luncheon With Eric


primrose leviathane



River night

Night falls red

Night falls


River night











Custard Slice


(…scraps on yellow post-its,

false eyelids:

‘beauty’ on one,

‘beholder’ the other.

I simply adore funny looks…)

Perls mouse

Liberty Ship

neale one


Ramona, can you hear the Dockyard calling:

She nods, coy, distant.

Clanking, drag chains clamour, trailing frantic

Sombre empty vessels grey steel hulls

Slide into the salty sea


Growling heinous savage asides

Pledge revenge to be wreaked on distant

Raiders who may ask no mercy from on high:

Old footpads, pickpockets, chancers, wizened rouge

Consumptives retreat.



Cloth-capped shipwrights puff butts, feeling high

Looking hard, keenly noting blemishes, repairs,

Defects, work to do, and slow stare

behind at the crap strewn, broken,

dust clouded, scorched slipway


Mass observers congregate dumbstruck,

awed on the wrecked slipway

gazing in sombre wonder, muttering as Klaxons screech

The dust clears and the naked, absurd hulk flops

Quite near distant, adrift, buoyant.


Water spumes from tyred tugs jet,

Spray polluted tears from on high

Drenching squabbling gulls,

who craw and repair

to the dry side of the hull.


Ramona’s smiles, shining apostolic, in the dull

Room, barely heed the clamour on the stairs,

She undresses easy, I sigh,

Another Liberty Ship underway

Waiving the rules of the wolf


The racket distant, now less frantic

The crowd disperses, now less antic

Fleeting ecstasies, comparing, admiring

Nifty clips of the hull:

The news of recent street


Melt in stealth, frantic

To avoid the attentions of the rugger buggers

Muscling raucous wild things, corporal bulwarks

Flailing, clubbing, brutes culling

Conviction for conviction’s sake





What did he ever

do for me

John Fitzgerald


What indeed! Stopped world war three –

that’s a start.

An indefinite postponement so far,


It would be very bad for business, it

was argued,

an argument that held water

with many,

a popular viewpoint among those

who knew who

John Kennedy was.

And for those who didn’t

A chance, an opportunity

to find out.

The School of Varied Knocks

primrose leviathane


Soft knocks

To shut or open the Zen on the Art of Bridge,

Faust, Kafka – easy listening!

Getting my bearings, settling in, making a mess, feeling awkward.

The Bridge. I know this place well, too well. The scene of the crime, witness to disaster, base misdemeanours, sullied by cleansing agents, violated by animals, jumbled up, dumped on, dumped in.

The Bridge. Here dreams are born, and mares lived out. Stories of horses; hateful verses, grudging verses diluted. These are bad vibes. This time will be different, this is not a retreat. It’s a crucible, a temenos.

The Bridge. A place to prepare yourself in order to be yourself.

to shut or open the door at whim.

Knocks are needed to gain entry.

Hard knocks.




Brad the Impaler

Faron Young

Paling to significance,

Brad the Impaler, a pied butcher bird,

whistles a chirpy tune

(Imagine, if you will,

a melodic baritone

bicycle here)

and skewers a shrew for the barbie.

Life read and heard in tooth and claw,

one sighs through clenched teeth.

‘This is all the weather you get,

so you’d best enjoy it…Grrghh!’

says a balaclavad scimitar weatherman.

I will, I will!

Promise I will, croons Brad.

has the bird flown



Precocious as a pre-fab sprout,

Faron Young plus thirty-three.

The hour: the one before the darkest,


Clock the dour, prudent, tourist jurist

loping slowmo from zero to one,

distilling memento mori ad hoc.


Just like a Rigoletto really,

or a cigarillo nearly, huffing,

Puffing, somewhere in the night.

A Chattering



Despair? Moi, Nah.


Despair says:


Some say Ebbohla

Others Eebohla…

What is it?

We are told nothing

Never, nevvah, no…


Self combusts

On Live Telly


I slip into

Warm solace

Light a fire

On the floor

Before me



Is the child


Free play

Muse Snooze



Plenty to write

Nothing to say

Keep hanging on

Don’t go away

Captain Splash!



In the dead of night,

This time of year

Destiny has gone

Rhapsody is here

Melody always is

Singing like an angel

Because she is an Angel

Harmony’s a banshee

This time of year,

In the dead of night,

Wild Night


Look Ma, No land!

Outward bounding sounding.

Leap in the dark chart.


Trust me. Trust the boat.

Shiver me timbres, if you must.

Anchor me and I stop.


Mistreat me and you will suffer at your own hands.

Freedom is yours.

Sez whose army?


Smell cloved rind, take deep draughts of zestful Pomander.

Ambergris, musk, or civet – know not which

smell hangs round my neck.


To conceal?

Contenders include:


Old stale boxers, empty horses, prize-fighters,

ring rusted, knocked out, punch trunks.

No. Clean out last night.


Socks and slippers, forget me not when I forget thee.

Drongo alert.

Tweet, tweet, dive


Survived the ambush, another sell buy shooting:

left gazpacho kippers out flat, plumb tuckered,

gobbled up with occidental relish.


Post war: Daphnia, Delia, and Celia skip

a light fandango with Mandingo, leave him manacled,

popsickled, humbled: prone to pillage.


Pesky parishioners, villainous villagers, codpiece Carmellites,

how they muddled meddle,

wild hunters pass by like trappist hoodlums.


Silent but deadly

Past Full moon, Rowan hides it,

cloud gusts fade to wispers.


Hunters swoon with exertion,

rest in peace

on mauve nasturtiums.

Three Omegas



Three smoked


Black peppered,

Soused, left


On small plate,


Scenic scene



Supper play

Or plate for

The smaller



three smoked fish

released from

vacuum cell

lay brown dead


Breached by blade

Ripped  from

Chewy skin



Flaked by hand,

Torn up by

keen talons

Ate by mouth.

Headcase Dreams





On old black chair

In candle glow,


by the roundtable’s

Archway segment shade.

Young black dog, curled up,

picture book,

on old black chair.

A bit of eye open, yellow flicker,

slowly blinking, basking. Closed.

Lids move, quick, hunting, chasing,

Running, running, running.


Am I there?

Am I in it?

He wasn’t

In mine

Incubus Nouveau



Splurge urge, soggy gourd

Mulch and pulp, squash

Tomato, windy beans shrivel,

Drenched, trembling, gusts

Thus love came stealing

In sable, lunar night.




Here Comes Everybody



Characters surge in teeming, broiling tumults

Who, what, where, what are they yarns compose

spun, weaved, forged, tempered, cast, distorted

drawing, and withdrawing breath

from titbits of storylines,


Here and there, then and now, you have

Upsizings, threats, strengths, and weaknesses:

absurdities, absurd ditties, odd ways and beings.


See all these in a blustered, supple,

yielding, ready-berried Rowan; or in a tumbril,

air, toccata, fug, or others mirrored Mindseyes,

especially on these severe, unsettled October days.



Conkers Season!





Schoolboy  chill


Vinegar souse,

Slow bake,





With crash-hats

thin lipped


In phantasm
Sodium light,


& splenal

grey crows

stooping prowl,

Panther black
poachers grumble,
sniffing nuts

in dreek

Soft copse

To Whom It…



Every morning while

jumping up and down

Call out the names of

those you wish the best.

Do any of them live with you,

in the same flat or house,

the same shanty town,

sewer, shop doorway, aqueduct…?

Or someone who won’t get up,

left their shit in your way,

left the toilet seat up, snores,

had their head chopped off,

talks endless twaddle…


How very surprising.


Have a Nice Day.

Food is Love


Bury your knee at wounded heart
marry a buffet saint
Nigella’s got

Two black eyes
Mary Berry ain’t.

Arrested Development


I toyed a while with Jeremy Kyle,
And took the lie detector.
I ate his face and it tasted vile;
My name is Hannibal Lector.



Lucinda Drama & Brian de Palma

Met up on the set of ‘Nice!’

‘Your face,’ she said

‘Is full of dread

And your head

Is riddled with lice.’


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