plop hilarity contest

plop hilarity contest

peristalsis 

is no fool

as you sit there 

it makes your stool

the cat nip of summer

the cat nip of summer

the cat goes out

sleeps

the cat comes in

sleeps

the cat goes out

sleeps

the cat comes in

eats

sleeps 

the cat goes out

and 

so it goes

these daily dozy 

dozy daily dos 

of summer

you tell me no

you

tell me that we are not doomed‬

‪with words that are littered‬ out

of cars that fill extracted gardens

and the faecal hemispheres 

of brains in denial of the 

anthropocene     such

a nice word that unfortunately 

will not fit any tombstone 

made from recycled denial

black plastic hate preserving

perfectly the scattering of

eulogies for rational thought

that the herds trample now

you 

tell me no

it’s all

OK

isn’t it

will the queen 

                                 still be queen 

                                                                  in heaven?

no?

    

    then why is she queen now then?

uh?

unlock?

You go to one - l’ll go to three‬

‪In this poker game it’s all bluff countering counter-bluff‬

‪I’ll raise you ... mmm ... R=3‬

‪I’ll see you ...... there‬

the cowing dog

the cowing dog

the cow

the barbed wire

and the feral dog 

something snaps

and it’s gone

clattering 

down the back-lane

of a memory

all these haiku‬

all these haiku‬

‪i keep stepping on them‬

‪tripping over them‬

‪i throw them out but‬

‪they are homing haiku‬

‪flapping around my head‬

‪and in my bed‬

‪and in my tea‬

‪you see‬

‪how much rhyme is missing‬

‪from the haiku‬

‪that also trips me up‬

‪and suffocates me ‬

‪i sneeze‬

‪haiku haiku‬

‪all fall down‬

Llansteffan and The Worm in June

Llansteffan and The Worm in June

Llansteffan pulling west

into the summer haze,

backed against the castle,

upon the Towy sands.

There, see the ‘Worm’ drawn

closer than the eye has seen

most days, for it is far away

than seems this day drawn 

in the heat of June

in the morning.

And a Worm it is!

in profile a more gentle dragon

than it is in the wild winter. When

to set foot is to drive forward 

into the Atlantic Ocean. To 

forge rock on the anvil of the rip

waters barnacled in blood.

But here a photographer’s eye

has pulled imagination, and the day,

and his machine, to lay it before us

as it is rarely seen, though much rumoured. 

Oscillating between Llansteffan and Gower 
folk are aware of the wonder, and the grace 
of a summer such as this day in June.

Here - gaze upon it now,

lock it into your hearts;

for summers are as short as the winters are long,

and your memory of now and again seems

as temporal as the haze across this sound.

before cleaning 

i move the sleepy spider 

no flies on me