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Obadiah Grey Dec 2013
Sphincter factor nine approaches
food for the fish n roaches
methinks its time for me perhaps
to open up the rearward *****.


------------------------------------
AAChoo !!

Oh, liddle sister, Josephine,
you sure don't keep your
nose real clean.
got stalactites
o' pure pea green
my infectious sibling
snot machine.
----------------------------------------
I thought that I might shoot the breeze
with God or Mephistopheles
and ask them please to ease my wheeze
of my bad back and dodgy knees
---------------------------
Croak with the raven
bluff with the crow
the urchin
the field mouse
beneath the hedgerow
in a flurry they scurry
away away go.
Yelp with the *****
howl with the hound
and bay at the moon
till the sun comes around.
------------------------------------------
Gino's bar and grill.

Away, away afore Bacchus
doles out befuddlement
and Morpheus has his way,
lest I awake to find myself
in the company of
sodamistic bedfellows
with buggery in mind.
---------------------------------
Harry Potter has grown a beard
he lives alone and turned out weird.
Dumbledore, Albus, no more
turned his toes and 'ad a snore,
Voldemort, who's *** is taut
has no nose with which to snort.
====================

Ahem !!

Behind two Lilies- sits Rose,
then Daisies
for two and a bit rows.
with Poppy, and *****
Petunia, Primrose.
and Bryony - who gets up
- my nose.
----------------------------------------------
Amen.
God bless the Cows - for beef burgers.
God bless the Pig - for their bacon.
God bless the wife n her sharp knife
for the slice of their **** she's taken.

-------------------------------------------------
We can, no more fetter the sea to the shore
nor the clouds to the sky
or tether the glint
in a lovers eye,
As sure as the shore loves the sea
so shall I love thee, together,
together for eternity,

-----------------------------------

It bends for thee
sweet chevin,
the cane thats cleaved
by three,
wilt thou now
sweet chevin
yield, my friend ,
for me.
-------------------------------------------------
There's Marmalade then Marmite
and Jams thats jammed between
the buttered bread of bard-dom
a poets sweet cuisine.
---------------------------------------------
I took up campanology
and fired up my ****.
I rang that bell
to ******* hell
till the busies
came along.
--------------------------------------------
so, I've been whittling away
at a buoyant ****-
fashioned something approximating
a poo canoe-
in it, I intend to
surf the **** tsunami of old age
to-- death;
I have named it Public - Service - Pension.


----------------------------------------------

A surreptitious delightful tryst,
with my honey, my sebaceous cyst.
she's my pimple, my wart,
my gumboil consort.
she's the zip, in which
my *******, got caught.
--------------------------------------
Frayed at the bottoms
ripped at the knee.
baggy and saggy
big enough for three.
faded and jaded
and stained with ***
but I'm due for a new pair--
Yippeeeee!!

---------------------------------------

Ther­e's Cockerel in my ear
and he bills and coo's for you
whenever you are near
goes - **** a doodle doo !!!!!,,,,,,,,

---------------------------------------------

Oh,­ for the snap shut skin
in the blue twang of youth
and to un-crack the spine
on the book of love.
now the gulping years
have flown away
we take sips of the night
and are spoon fed the day.

-----------------------------

Zeus made the Moose to be somewhat obtuse,
a big deer- rather queer- I fear.
then God gave him the nod to look funny and odd
the spitting image of you - my dear !!!

---------------------------------------

Knobbly Nobby.

Nobby has a great big nose
a great big nose has he,
and nobby knows
that his big nose,
is big, as big can be,
nobby has two knobbly knees
two knobbly knees has he,
his knobbly knees,
are as knobely
as knobbly knees can be,
don’t pity dear old nobby
for soon it’s plain to see,
that nobby has a great big ****
as big, as big as three !
now nobbys **** is knobly,
as knobly as a **** can be,
so nose and knee and ****
make three,
and we - are ****- ely.

----------------------------------

The Woman that wouldn't eat meat,
had reeaally, reeaally big feet,
her **** was as big as an hermaphrodite brig
and her **** were as hard as concrete….


--------------------------------

Hearken the clarion call of the crows
afore the snow-
they caw,
hey, get your **** into gear lads-
we gotta feckin go !!!

-----------------------------

Gods pad

I took a peek within
your house
wherein on pew, I spied
a mouse,
and in his hand,
a Bible clasped,
and out his mouth,
a parable rasped,

---------------------

I'd say she had
a pigeon loft in
her eyes and
bluebells up
her nose.

But then again
I wear a flat cap

and stroll through meadows.

----------------------------

Would you care to buy our house?
It's minus Mouse n devoid o' Louse,!
Spiders, Roaches, Bugs or other,
have all been eaten by my brother,
snaffled up n swallowed down
then jus' crapped out a - yellowish brown.
so would you care to buy our house?
from an oddly pair -- devoid of nous

-------------------------

Though the Crows got her eyes
and the Worms got her gut.
comes as no surprise
death can't keep her mouth shut.

-------------------

Bevelled slick edges
and reeaal eeaasy slopes.
Chilli dip wedges
with fresh artichokes.
Wanton loose wenches
and swivel hipped ******
Daft dawgs and dentures
and granddad - who snores.

-------------------

Been whittling away at a buoyant ****
and fashioned something approximating a canoe,
in it, I intend to surf the **** tsunami of old age;
I named it, "Public service pension"

-------------------------------

.
Well,
     I could wax on the wings of a butterfly
but, I ain't that kind o' guy.
rather kick the nuts off ******* squirrels
pluck the wings off - blue assed fly.
I'm the stuff that flops off dog chops
when he's up for it and high.
an infection in your sphincter,
a well
that's jus' run dry.

----------------------------------------------

befeathered­ and bright scarlet
is my ladies bonnet,
jauntily askew and -
lilting on a paramours
grin.

"- Gladlaughffi -"

I'm reliably informed that dear ol' Muma
sported a goatee around his **** sphincter,
now, whilst this is merely educated speculation
from my esteemed friend his "groom of the stool" ! 
who was in fact required to wear a mask,
ear muffs and a blindfold whilst he went about his business,
He did possess reeaaally sensitive fingertips
somewhat akin to a blind man reading brail,,
and, swore blind that said "**** sphincter' spoke him in Arabic
and asked him for a quick trim, (short back and sides)
I myself being a practising proctologist of some repute
am inclined to believe my friend the "groom of the stool"
as I've come recognise -- Arsolian when I hear it !!!!!!!!
-------------------------------------

In a Belfast sink by the plughole
where hair and gum gunk meet
'erman the germ-man  and toe jam
bop the bacillus beat.

________

Doctor this I know as fact
that I have a blocked digestive tract,
I'm all bunged up and cannot go
my trump and pump is - somewhat slow.
I need unction jollop for junction wallop
some sorta lotion to give me motion.
If you could please just ease my wheeze
then I needn't grunt and push and squeeze.

-----------------------------

They are breaking out the thwacking sticks
and sparking Godly clogs
pulling tongues through narrowed lips
at the infidel yankee dogs.

------------------------------------

As a paid up member of the
lumpen bourgeoisie poetry appreciation society
I can confirm without fear of contradiction
that poetry is indeed baggy underwear
with ample ball room, voluminous in the extreme
and takes into account
the need for the free flow of flatulent gassiness
that is the want of a ****** up poet.

-----------------------------------------------

She's a rough hewn Trapezoidal gal
a gongoozler o' the ol' canal.
She's copper bottomed n fly boat Sal.

I'll have thee know that
that there hat
is a magic hat,
it renders me invisible
to the arty intelligentsia
and roots me firmly
in the lumpen proletariat .
-------------------------------------------------------
Said the sneaky Scotsman, Jim Blaik.
if the pension, you wish to partake,
bend over my son, lets get this thing done
and cop for this thick trouser snake !!

I met my uncle Albert,
down at Asda, in aisle three;
he got there in a Mazda,
jus' a smidgen after me,
said he'd traversed Sainsburys,
Tesco Liddle n the Spar,
but not one o' them flogged Caviar
Truffles or Foie gras.


He sidled past the pork pies
streaky bacon turkey thighs
a headin for the french fries
n forsaken knock down buys,
shimmied 'round the ankle biters;
expectant mums to be,
popin pills for bloated ills
in the haberdashery.

Fandango'd o'er the cornflakes
and the spillage in isle four

-----------------

I'm linier and analogue,
a ribbon microphone man
mired in the dust of the monochromatic,
the basement, the attic.

------------------------------

Simple simon met miss Tymon going to the fair,
said simple simon to miss Tymon - "pfhwarr what a luverly pair"
of silken thighs and big brown eyes and scrumptious wobbly bits,
Said simple Simon to miss Tymon---------- shame about you **** !!!

So sad sweet Shirl thought she'd give a whirl to clubbercise n pound

Squat, slightly,
tilt head 45°
and squint.
See the shimmering blurry
dot in the distance?
That, timorous ****,
is ME !
Fast twitching my
narrow white ****
to the pub.

There was a young lady named Sue.
whose ***** and **** was askew,
whilst taking a ****
she'd aim it and miss
and she lifted 'er hat when she blew.


Oh Mon Dieu !!

Obi.
Obadiah Grey May 2010
“- Bacon sammich -”

Ahhh, liddle green apple 'pon my plate,
****- you ain't ever gonna satiate
my hunger, lust, for something more,
bacon sammich,,you know the score,

Home made bread, cut nice n thick,
full fat butter, ooh yea, that's the trick !
streaky bacon, with chewy rind
just cut off, from a pig's behind,

Fry it up, with a liddle oil
but steady now, or it'll spoil,
not too crisp, n not too brown
coz it's a little rough, when going down,
n to top it off, it's best of course
to maybe add, a splash 'o sauce,

So alas liddle apple, 'pon my plate
I'm afraid for you, the bins your fate,
at the risk of a liddle wife's disquiet
it's a bacon sammich,,,,,**** the diet.

Alan nettleton.
Obadiah Grey Jun 2010
I'm goin sideways when I perish;
want to end up, in a rock pool
in the sand.
I'll have a shiny shell,
that I can cherish,
with two claws, fer my chores;
not a hand.
sharing my abode with thirteen rag worm;
who'll confirm,
that it's sunny,
by the sea,
we can wish **** the fish a happy birthday,
n the weather,
we can also,
guarantee,
yes I’m goin sideways when I perish,
to cherish, my rock pool by the sea,
to squirm with the worm n embellish
another lifetime - as liddle lobster me.

Alan nettleton.
Obadiah Grey Jun 2010
All I saw was an *** - twitching;
as it sashayed through the doorway,
pert n tight n denim clad,
think the legs were rather fine too,
not too sure though,
the *** kinda jiggled in an intoxicating
hypnotic rhythmic fashion,
sorta "♫*** didi *** didi *** *** ***,♫"
it was muscular, without being overly developed,

I had a really deep desire to bite it;
chew on it a liddle !
John F McCullagh Sep 2014
If they weren’t in the Polo grounds, the drive was a home run..
Don Liddle served a meatball and Wertz swung and thought it gone.
But Willie Mays thought otherwise and raced towards the wall.
Improbably, impossibly, he caught Vic Wertz’s ball.
He turned to throw; his cap flew off, as Doby raced for third.
When Grisson relieved Liddle, Liddle quipped:” I got my man.”
That the Indians were dispirited you well can understand.
That inning turned the series as Cleveland didn’t score.
The Giants won that game in ten and swept the Tribe in four.
Of all who played the game that day, a precious few remain.
The man who made “The Catch” still lives; forever will his fame.
Game 1 1954 World Series, 09/29/54. The day I was born
Francie Lynch Nov 2015
Aine sits in our big chair,
Her legs stretched out,
Her feet are bare;
I'm counting ten wee toes for her,
Toes I love so dear.

They lead her from the crib to stairs,
Though never far from loving care;
Those ten wee toes we love so dear,
Will take her far,
Will lead her there.

They'll get ***** in the garden
While laughing in the rain;
They'll be her fins
When she swims,
They'll wiggle
When she sings.

They'll tap out eighths and quarters
When she plays her songs;
She'll slip them into runners
For a race to last life-long.

They'll get cold on the rink
When she plays our game;
We'll rub those toes quite vigorously
To warm the ice-cold sting.

They'll fit right into heels and pumps
When she plays her game;
But for me those liddle toes of hers
Will always be the same.
"our game": hockey
Obadiah Grey Jun 2010
Bless all the barmaids that have ever lived
who carried featherlite, n knobbly ribbed,
who listened to waffle n crap I spoke
who granted liddle me, a slap n poke,
who parted ***** whilst in drunken stooper
n gave the bird, to the party pooper,
the big ones, the small ones, the fat n thin
god bless slappers, that invited me in,
bejeezus begorra, mag da horra,
bless all barmaids, I'll **** on the morra,
******* big ***, n the ones that pass gas,
god bless the ones that I’ve yet to harass,
for whisky, for beer, god bless ya m’dear,
even big sally; fer the gonorrhea.

Alan nettleton.
Obadiah Grey Jul 2010
Adolf n his nice tight ***

gonna get me a pair o' lederhosen
the kind adolf used to wear;
not the attire the missus woulda chosen
they're sorta ***** - to be fair,
but they made his ***** look massive
n they made his *** look taut
we all know the guy weren't passive
n did things he shouldn'ta ought,
I bet ya missus ****** loved him
when his **** hung out one side,
and as for bombin london,
well -- we'll let that ****** slide;
coz the guy he sure were stylish
in his liddle leather shorts,
goose steppin all the while-ish
with his gusset - and - supports,,,


alan nettleton.
Obadiah Grey Nov 2013
When dh'a reaper come a
knockin on ma’h door
tell him a'h gone to bogator,
if he want ma’h ***,
he'll have to wait,
a'h goda liddle more life
to satiate,
A’h sold ma’h soul
to be-el-zebub
for a cute liddle ***
an' a tummy rub,
So a'h guess ah’ll be
a headin d udder way
an' widda old nicks ******
ah'ma gonna play,

Now be-el-zebub said to me dat time
" sign dis boy your *** be mine, !!"
a’h know dis now, a’hn a’h knew dat den,
he purloined ma’h soul whidda fountain pen,
so lawd oh lawd please hear m'ah plea
take pity m'ah lawd on poor auld me,
deliver m'ah soul to da' place above
n tell be-el-zebub dat' he can shove !!
Obadiah Grey Jan 2012
Shoppin wiv Albert.



I met my uncle Albert,
down at Asda, in aisle three;
he got there in a Mazda,
jus' a smidgen after me,
said he'd traversed Sainsburys,
Tesco Liddle n the Spar,
but not one o' them flogged Caviar
Truffles or Foie gras.


He sidled past the pork pies
streaky bacon turkey thighs
a headin for the french fries
n forsaken knock down buys,
shimmied 'round the ankle biters;
expectant mums to be,
popin pills for bloated ills
in the haberdashery.
Obadiah Grey May 2011
Tea fer Two.

Pickle me a Dolphin; sprinkle liberally with rye,
whip us up a Butter cup on Snake n Pygmy pie.
griddle ten rare rats ****, soaked in sauce o' barbeque;
serve it all in the banquet hall; for liddle me n you.
Obadiah Grey May 2011
Billy (Bowb) joe

There ain't nothin new in hell tonight
cept the soul o' billy joe,
who killed a man in an unfair fight
so gabe sent him below,
he used a blade on an unarmed guy;
and a stand up guy to boot,
now his *** will fry he's said g'bye  
coz to hell he is en route,
now beelzebub has got an itch
so bad that it needs scratchin
he takes billy joe as his new *****
n disease he is a catchin,
bill's boiled in oil n flash fried with rice
n he’s marinade in gin,
coz beelzebub well he ain't that nice
he’s gonna Chew on liddle him,
but Billy joe’s a repentant soul
feelin mighty fine n righteous,
bill has gotta goal gonna take his toll
n  give nick gastroenteritis

alan nettleton.
Ken Pepiton Apr 2019
Trailblazer learner auf all that may be
spoken, the awar...

wind sound wound clocks
wind down...
Not Spelchek, her viral redit kids
infect us, no, they never run down,
they invest us as
Flavius Josephus invested his story
as Rome invested Jerusalem

the true histerical history
approach leads to riddle liddle
kurioish timerish

triptrap thingys,

witty inventions. Who imagined these?

Take A. I.
AI or Al or ah,

beware beveraware
the missin' aitches an' gees andees.

it sets the tone. light
hearted

may be
it's a trick, you never saw, but

we've been here, you and I,
dear reader imaginin' in me

---
every word written on the internet
is now in the blind's kindest voice
choice award since the very
beginning of robotic

readers, like you, dear spelchek,
refugee from Tolstoryer's

idle word pile,
though ye be.May your children rule as
flexibly as thee.
gitem whenthey hot.
Obadiah Grey Mar 2012
I like cows;
cows seem to like Me,
maybe we ought to get together sometime;
chew the cud,
talk udders--
YEAH,
that'd be good,
we could crap on daisies
in the meadow,-
watch them grow-
**** in streams
add a liddle-- YELLLOOOWWW,
eat only the greenest grass
yeah, that'd be good,

I just need to learn to mooo.
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,­,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,mooo,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,­,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,MOOOOOOOOO.
Obadiah Grey Dec 2011
Eminent professors everywhere,
even those bound to the chair,
all agree whid liddle ol' me-
we'll all be ****** eventually,

We're gonna die - we're gonna fry
pucker up n kiss yer **** g'bye.
it's difficult to comprehend
jus' when this **** is gonna end,

In a ball o' fire we're in the mire-
jeeezzus man we'll all expire !
it may be quick o'er in flick;
clock is ticking tick tock tick,

Or it maybe slow the way ya go
- jus' 'nuf time for one more blow,
either ways it's fair to say
we're gonna end up - - consommé.
Obadiah Grey Apr 2021
I met my uncle Albert
down at asda, in aisle three;
he got there in his mazda,
jus' a smidgen after me,

said he'd traversed sainsburys,
tesco liddle n the spar,
but not one o' them flogged caviar
truffles or foie Gras.

He sidled past the pork pies
streaky bacon turkey thighs
a headin for the french fries
n forsaken knock down buys,

He shimmied 'round the ankle biters;
expectant mums to be,
popin pills for bloated ills
in the haberdashery.
Feel free to add a verse !!!!!
Rob Sandman Mar 2018
No...more...bickerin,
your eyes flickering you're nickering
your nit pickin' lost it quick as the Dickens
My tracks a hell of a kickin'
you're just the next feckin victim,
of the flow bound Hurricane of sense and rhythm,
The Sensemilla Sensei Kempei of verbal Kempo's home,
Like Alladin and Saladin mixed with a Party Boobytrap a Paladin of Palindrome...
The Storm rider glider blasts you through the  other side of the Thunderdome
My - Spitfire drips Ire as ******* ***** fire Surprise in your eyes quick blast from the past from a .50 Cal Microphone-
Fiend in me soul under control you failed your roll,
will check failed-I check wills,its a Checkmate mate you-best quill your will and will to build some soul
Its a dill of pickle you're in - you're a nickle worth of Nickleback stickleback sticklebricking best Lego
I let go last, I'm the Legolas of the fast pass in the underpass stick you fast now you're stuck fast I buck fast at your glass of Buckfast
the Truculent, ever vigilant-words are Succulent got you diggin' in
diggin' out a liddle bit of Lidl in a stolen digger,move quicker stop the friggin' in the riggin' little Pigpen Pigeons time to drop the bridge in...
Just a bit of an experiment to see if I could start slow and simple and end up demented(all rhymed at full speed and full volume)
and...yup, Mr Sandman's 3rd Lung always kicks in :) by the way Sticklebricks were like an off brand Lego,only ever saw them in Ireland.
Richard Riddle Oct 2015
Does your completed wurk look as if it were tiped while wearing a baceball gluv? That liddle red, squigley, line that often appeers
beneeth a  wurd, shows up for a reeson. A signal that something "just ain't right." Weather a speling or punkshuashun issue,pay attenshun to it.

A mispeled wurd can distract the readers attenshun froom the subject of the peece, and creates a very uneezy reed.

Keep a dicshunery near you're desk.

Go bak and refresh when to us too 'C's, too M's", (dubble consanants)etc.

Know you're "valves" a-e-i-o-u.

Know where to place an apocolipse when writing a contractshun(can't, don't)..................

Use the correct wurdes!!

Know the diffrance between "Their", and "There."

A dicshunary can also prevent having to exit a wurk, and risk losing it by forgeting to save it.

Pay attentshun, PLEEZE!

copyright: richard riddle-10-07-15

Thanks,
richard riddle
May be exaggerated a liddle bit. **** not much.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
let's just face the ******* music and dance
the hell out of this one
in hope of generating a tornado...

cross-census agreement between
us little internet people
and the big-shots of the media
press...

        rod liddle:
comment section, just prior to
the anonymous editorial pieces...
the sunday times... 11/11/18...
headline:

        i'm identifying as a young,
black, trans chihuahua,
   and the truth can go whistle...

we're privy then?
like i already said...
we left the old crazies in the gutter
imbued by a pharma-soup
making soup for brains...
while treating these new
crazies with a new brand
of medicine...
      pandering to their "eccentricities"...

exactly...
to an extent a psychotic might be
more in line with reality
than the pandering sane
individual...
  suddenly the sane pandering
squash of people give
out a statement:
   when you abolish reality,
the whole whole deluded
edifice begins to unravel...

what did i write only days prior?
this!
thanks, but no thanks...
good luck un-pandering
these pandered "souls"...
you're not dealing
with "millennial snowflakes"...
you think gen-Z will fare
any better when they leave
the education market?
really?!
again... good luck with that...
whoever the millennial "fellows"
are milking them into
a zombie of dialectics...
good luck putting hope into
them...

              try to reverse the ontology
of a cuckoo giving birth...
it's not like we evolved
biologically...
   zoologically... sure thing...
we can cage any animal we like
(with ourselves included)
and study their behavior,
and do the silly Billy English
thing of incorporating
the ontology of a plethora of
animals into your own ontology...

all we have in the Anglophone world
are post Darwinism zoological
explanations...
as to our ontology...
         if i was once considered
insane...
   please...
              i would abhor being
considered sane these days...
the SANEs
            are being cuddled to pamper
the new crazies,
emboldened by the progress in
medicine...

but thank **** the new crazy stink rose
as far as the comment section
of a center right newspaper
in England.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2021
before i might launch into an armchair of a paragraph...
no... nothing of the sort...
r.em.'s song: nightswimming... i have my own
version of ulterior events: nightcycling...

i'm not much of a lyricist...
nightcycling: such nights are all but forgotten...
how i miss the traffic
how i don't miss the traffic...
how my face isn't in need of being washed
since there's so little sandpaper debris on it...
there was never going to be a photograph...
the moon was perhaps almost always
a glass-is-half-empty: most certainly a frozen
biscuit: a pretend-tooth that's
glazed with a shy colour: a hue of diluted
sepia / wheat... yellowish as bone allows...
or antiques...

          nightcycling... hardly years from now...
or even days... it makes so much sense to be alone
that it doesn't even bother me
to sometimes wish i wasn't
when i know: that if i wasn't...
i'd be pulled toward wishing i was...
i don't want to feel that sadness:
that claustrophobic energy of having to
chain myself to... at best all the *** at worst
all that... anaemic conversation about:
how we might be the best, better: couple...


a sensation like no other...
perhaps if one were to kiss bone...
or perhaps like biting off
the ends of chicken bones
to get at the marrow
once all the meat and sinew has
been munched off: almost
slurped... most certainly
bitten: subsequently gnashed...
- eating frozen blueberries...
                 till the tongue turns
blue till the tongue is numbed
till the teeth start to itch (which
is of course impossible)...
but words make it possibly... eh... maybe...

it was raining throughout the day
and... i had to wait for the night
before i cycled...
in between...
   i made... raspberry... ice cream...
the classical way, using egg yolks because
i have no fear of salmonella...
at worst: i'd get my intestines cleaned
out with some diarrhoea...

such a simple recipe...
2 cups of double cream...
1/4 cup of milk
1/2 a cup of sugar...
heated up...
5 egg yolks beaten... 1 cup of the mixture
mixed with the beaten egg yolks
at 165°F... then all together...
12oz of raspberries blitzed up...
sieved through so the seeds would
not agitate... 1/4 cup of sugar
and some vanilla extract...
mixed together... with the cream
chilled in the fridge for 2 hours...
then into an ice-cream machine to churn for...
roughly 40 minutes...

later... two small brownie slices
and this... "ambrosia"...
if it rains... might as well make some ice-cream...

- i don't want to fall in love... ever again...
it's not that i'm hung-up on an ex...
come to think of it: i'm hung-up on myself...
what a lot of love wasted on someone
so rotten...
i wish i was myself the time i fell in love:
tender, young, naive...
then again: perhaps not...
i don't want to be a father
i don't want to have this responsibility
hanging over me like Damocles' sword...
cut the curtain... and the violin strings...
i don't want to be weak: dependent on someone:
i don't want to share my autonomy...
i'm growing tired of the idea of love...
i like to keep it very... formal...
perhaps no one is gesticulating or pushing airs
of 'yes sir'
         'no sir'... perhaps i'm not gagging to be
a well tailored waiter...
i'd shoot those lazy-***** who order shopping
on that metaphor of kangaroo...
bucket-list to-do:
don't ever place an order: go to the shop yourself...
******* pickled brains...
break each limb into pieces:
throw the torso into the pool... hope that it might
swim...

the wind blows from the south...
i stand in a cricket field on top of Havering-atte-Bower
and look at the great span of horizon...
there's Kent... there's ol' Thames...
my eyes are eating the distance apart...
to nowhere...

- well... if you put it like that...
scribbling: i was cycling at 30kmh...
suppose i was cycling quicker...
the metric units inflate the achievement...
while imperial units... deflate it...
it's only 18mph...
the metric system loves zeros:
0000000000000000000000000000000000
the imperial system: quirky...
loves decimals of Pi...

what a lazy night...
what a lazy of writing...
nightcycling...
something must have happened...
so few girls on the town partying...
did something happen?
did their income source dry up
or something?
i've had eyes of women clamour onto me
like they might...
give me ******* while simultaneously
circumcising me...
or pecking at my liver...
that's why... at the Turkish barbers...
it's almost like going to a brothel...
but when getting my bush-whack of a beard
trimmed... i close my eye while
the barber does miracles with a blade
tendering my neck...
eyes wide open... when ******* is performed...
since... well... that "hole" has teeth...
it might be pretend-oyster in the act...
but it's also a mouth that bites...
salivates... breaks up large chunks into small
chunks...

love... yes... at the brothel...
i like that sort of love...
i'm happy to not end up being an old man
who still has presumptions about:
the nobility of swans...
it didn't require either Darwin or Copernicus
to find out... the birds...
you will never see crows
gagging for it... you'll never find crows
asking for voyeurs like pigeons gag...
the crows do their funny... morbid b.d.s.m.
at night... no one's ever looking...
the pigeons? in full sight!

why i get a full glare of... pigeon courting...
i'm seeing... niqab clad ravens take:
"second purpose"...
not to mention... a... widow and widower swan...
my... how... they coupled...
never mind Rod Liddle...
i don't like the way he writes:
but god... i love how he speaks...
i don't very much like how i think:
that i perhaps think: at all...

my libido suffers from strobe-light
insomnia i dare call: quasi-epilepsy...
my dreams: i have shrapnel...
these buildings seem rigid enough:
it'll do... i don't need to make a broth
out of... bones... no skin... no meat...
i feel a crippling nausea-sickness
whenever dropped into a place like
Warsaw... or somewhere far beyond
the home counties...
like Cheltenham...

               it's oh so... monochromatic...
so... missing arrogant Muslims:
London: loon-bin...
this be, Islamabad... if only Polacks
had the same arrogance...
what an obnoxious lot we could have
become...
ask the Romanians?
the Turkish prostitutes... or the barbers?!

England belongs to the English...
thank you for keeping me: tightly knitted to a tuck...
friar...
you'll have to move aside...
while i make some space for my...
gluttonous... thought...
for several years i stopped seeing skin
colours... i stopped seeing ethnicity...
oh... grand reveal!
some equilibrium antics bringing
pronoun "concerns"...

                    ah ha... a world so tame...
i just want to **** on it...
i'm lazily itching toward "something"...
  look here... see an angst-riddled
existential paragraph...
if the natives can't bring some authority
to the table while the minorities run:
******* rampant...
it's like... living in slow-motion
of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth
being carved up... dissolved..
like the crown of Poland wasn't ever
a ******* of foreign rulers...
because... lineage didn't matter...
a  Duke of Orléans: could be the king of Poland
but not the king of France...
because... ******* of kings...
Poland... was readily giving it her sway of...
"favour"... alas... the fate of keeping
lineage... inbreeding... weakened genes...
pizza antics in... ******* Woking of all places...
silly Andy... willing Andy buckled on
the ginger gal...

nzuri argan oil... supposedly it works miracles
than any... other... recipe for keeping
one's hair looking: prim... intact...
wind-relieved...
better than any hair-gel...
a well oiled crop of hair is better suited
to... daily troubles than...
applying some stiffening agent...
hair like... deep-fried linguine... ugh...

that i believe advertisers more than
journalists...
a Warsaw fountain... someone abandoned
a dog in there... the poor thing was
running round and round...
me and ol' Joseph...
testing me? my mother takes centre stage
when his memory sparks...
a pain akin to a cut excites...
a spontaneity...
but a pain that cuts towards
a numbing...

like Tolstoy said: every family is ****** up...
it's almost insensible to curate
the formality of strangers with
all the baggage being... towed...
sinking... me... drowning...
but making raspberry ice-cream..
while it was raining outside...
hanging the washing on the lines:
i was expecting a silenced orchestra: timid
of sparrows...

to hell with the constellation of stars...
just watch what the birds are doing...
last time i heard... cats do not require
leashes...
i wish i could have the sort of audacity
of hands i have with cats:
translated into how women are
treated...
at the brothel... at the brothel...
open a bottle of bourbon: i'm there! sober!
strictly oops in-and-out-of-"it"...

this is not even my land...
one which i might wish to defend...
who are these pseudo-post-Soviets...
the originals i could have cited as borrowing
from pan-Slavism...
although mistook took place
concerning... the disintegration of
Yugoslavia...
if the Germanic people knew how to dispose
of the Hebrews...
the southern Slavs knew how to dispose
of the remnants of Muslims...
ugly affair...

time by now has to escape its own clutches with
a... debilitating: yawn...
pass the pawn... crux... lineage!
pawn... broker...
bishop... tilt! tally the rooks...
shoot the horses dead-centre
before they have a chance to retire from
the races...

that i have a fetish for recycling..
that there's a **** to tow...
that there's a **** to tow...
there's some crippling Gehenna
of corn: baking...
snippet: clue...
   whatever happened to the incredibly
sensibly native people...

like ha'hum?

— The End —