My auspicious and audacious assault augments the annoyance of aged accomplices.

My bodacious broadside of boffolas berates and buffaloes bros beneficently.

A classy crusade Clownishly chiseling and criticizing childishness.

A devilish ******* of dillydallying dullards; devoutly denying dimwits the dulcet dream of defiance.

Excessive, exuberant edification, ebulliently eliminating education-evictees.

A fair-weather frolic in flippancy with furious fools floundering in flawed foppishness.

Gregariously grating glum guys gleefully, growing grander garnishes of gripping gallantry gaily.

Heckling hooligans highlights my heavenly humor.

Irreverently irking irritable, iniquitous idiots in inestimably infuriating and incredible instances.

A jolly, jocular **** joking with jerks.

A kreiger kicking kleptomaniacs in the karyotype. (Cut me some slack, this is 'k', after all.)

A ludicrous, laughing lambaste of lollygagging lunatics, loftily loosing luscious lunacy on lucky losers.

A magnificent masterpiece of malfeasance, a monstrous, malevolent mission of massive misfortune for the minor minors missing no malicious missive.

A noxious, narcissistic niggling of nitwits, niftily nixing the noisome naivete of niggardly nobs.

An offhand, off-color outburst of outlandish observations to outclass the obnoxious overtures of obsequious offal.

A pragmatic prediction of possible platitudes or platypi, a placid parley of pyrotechnic pleasantries provoking Pyrrhic protections by prurient prats.

A quixotic quibble quarreling with a queer quarry.

Ribald ribbing, ruining the robust reality of the repreachful, repugnant, and rapacious with risque ridiculousness.

A silly, slighting slander of sluglike slavishness, succinctly sinking sloppy simpletons sourly.

Tracing the titillating talent of towing tyranny to towering terrors to tactless, togless, terrapins of the times.

Old Jim

"I'm grateful for the company

....sit down and I'll make tea"

"It's not often people visit

but, with the cat, us two make three"

He's hiding somewhere here

He's always there abouts

I just have to watch the doorway

I don't want him to get out

We listen to the radio

Can't afford to have TV

It's really not a loss though

Since I now can barely see

Time it takes it toll on you

A little more each day

I wish there was a little pill out there

That helped keep time at bay"

"There's the kettle, whistling"

I'll be back with our fresh brew

The cat won't drink it with me

So I'm only making two

I looked around the little room

All the drapes were closed up tight

It was sunny out and midday

But inside, it looked like night

There was one light in the corner

More for guests than Uncle Jim

HIs life was based on order

This room just wasn't him

"Here's the brew my boy" he said

"As he came back and sat with me

I watched him...two steps forward

One left,  then forward three"

He put the cups down gently

Didn't spill a single drop

He'd memorized his pathway

He knew exactly where to stop

"I've got biscuits, if you'd like"

"Some Hob Nobs from back home"

"I break them out for company

"They're too good for me alone"

I said that I would get them

and I exited my chair

He said they're up on top

But I'd never reach them there"

He came and got a grab stick

He poked and grabbed them from the shelf

He said "This things a lifesend"

"I'd never get them by myself"

We sat and talked for hours

Talked of sports and music too

He said that with his failing eyesight

There's really not much he could do

"It's saved me money someways"

"And cost  more in others though"

"But now that I'm not driving"

"I no longer shovel snow"

Jim, worked hard for forty years

He was a foreman in the mine

He'd been working round the coal for years

In fact since he was nine

He used to run small errands

From the office to the men

He lied about his age though

Jim told them he was ten

He'd retired back five years ago

When it got hard to breathe

"It was all I ever knew boy"

"I didn't want to leave"

Tons and Tons of coal dust

Must have filtered through his lungs

He was  dying slowly daily,

It started showing on his tongue

Small spots appeared which spread real quick

He started treatment right away

He knew the doctor would relieve him

Of his job, reduce his pay

"you know boy, there's a tale they tell"

"of birds down in the mine"

"when the birds fall off the perch stone dead

"Then we men have little time"

"We have to get out quickly

"For the bird has shown our fate

"But think a bit, the gas got him...

"So for us ...it was too late"

"We didn't really watch the bird

"We listened for his song

"For when his voice was laboured"

We knew it wasn't long"

"Dead birds...they meant dead miners"

At this my body jolted

"It;s like shutting up the old barn door"

"Even though the horse has bolted"

I finished up and said to Jim

I had to catch my bus

Jim said, "ok young man, be on your way"

" Now, it's just the two of us"

"You'll be back soon, I hope" he said

I said , "I sure will try"

"I like our little visits"

As he sat there and he sighed

"Just me and Tilly now" he said

As he saw me to the door

Stay safe my boy and oh....

He said "There's one thing more

"when you get on home...please phone me"

"It will make this old heart sing"

"Just phone me up and when you do...

"Let it go for just three rings"

I said I would, "but why three rings"

I asked, not four or five

"Three rings" he said's our signal

"In the mine....that you're alive"

I left and headed homeward

But first I'd stop of at the mall

Then I went home right directly

And I then gave Old  Jim his  call.

Yellow-tinted-noxious-lung-warf-stunk-salty-oysters-stolen-rotten­.
Where am I? but the driftwood castle promenade, fish market gardens.
Congo jungle, steam ship sunken in crying river, village elder persists at warning.
Hear the fiddle burning, drug sullen quarter note steadily, it's veracious creak reverberates through me, the loveliness reveals me, and yet I cannot behold the.
Negligent narcissus subdue me, hurry up and ***** me.
Here is the birthplace of living curse, whats bottles up by living thirst, awakening face down in a black-bellied hearse.
Driven hard line through desert ambit , throttle locked at 85, no control, levers, nobs, or nodes.
Half a Cuban snuffed out poorly, sleeping in gaping jowls, I could not believe this thing even had an ash tray.
Death had bailed and locked the doors, filled the tank, and whipped the devils horse.
I worn the blinders and found my pockets stuffed with carrots and a lighter.
Then i smoked what was left without protest, I was not about to ask what came next.

I joust myself into jovial life
Jocose tatterdemalion and stygian salaciousness
Umbrage abrogating merit like swamping locusts
The mammoth chip on shouldered kids starving for life
I'm waiting on purgatory, and I'll wait for you with knives out
Cemetry of the artist stubbed beards and pubescence in the Phoenician Lands
He said she should have left the house
Tomahawks can still cut the vineyard, make my loquacity into beer-tap poetry
Flowery, murmur, kumbaya, kalimba de la soul and all thoughts aside
You're hoping music brings the song to my speechless heart
Your dance sounds light the motionless night, only the tapping of starry footsteps
Hob-nobs, more and more, knobs of heaven's doors open to every hippie with angel hair
Crossing the wires of substrates
Sonatas and partitas can be lugubrious, yet, elegantly examined
Nocturnes, from the centuries

Of ten old centurions
Came down to the Colosseum
Gladiator enthralled the chariots of fire
I was with ten ants, burning under the microscope
Tenants of this Roman Empire

Fighting for your rights
Fighting for the people who cannot fight
For the weak, requires peace and understanding
Shiny, homeless people lost the soul to the drugs and marijuana smoke under streetlamps stretching to infinity
This earth is an orchard of flowers
Slightly plump in the middle, it's mother nature
Not zaftig, it has latitudes and longitudes
Lavish life, garish fiefdom, stretches across the bent imagination of perverse minds
Looking for a kiosk in the peak of red skies that do not know blood and aggravation
New Year's Day, the cyka cry Mother Russia and SOS
Shooting flares into the sky
To reach so low, and to reach so high
Shouting slogans, written by the poets
Passion, prejudice, sensibility, comradery these are metiers of poets
Secrets strewed across the bloodless sky
Wishful thinking tantamount to head in the clouds
The clouds have different shapes and size, the fire of the greater existence lends us words in thoughts

Who is to blame?
who are the giants who manipulate the game?
corporations ******* our lives dry and desperation, plastic bags,
deforestation
it's given me an inflammation
what in tarnation are we going to do?

You and the Who may be one and the same,
we all have some part in the terrible game
and I'm in the frame for it,
done for a little bit, sat and
watched people ****
all over nature.

The visionary drones on like he sees it with headphones on reading a script while the planet's being ripped out from under our feet,
a bit like, 'meet the Flintstones' and it's in bedrock we'll build our next homes and another generation will fill the forests, harvest vegetation, and the corporation will rise again, tell of its corporate lies again and we'll all believe that they're all sane men.

Who is to blame?
the blind men who read the bible and curse which the deaf man can't hear, but which is the worse.

Rant for a bit
and cogitate,
wait for a bit
and rant a bit more,
bits and bobs and the 'nobs hold the aces
the deck was rigged
just look at their faces.

I get my fire-tongue from my mother.
I’m proud of the power I can hold
When I spit out flames in spite.
But sometimes I cannot tame it.
The fire starts to roar
And sparks fly as I try to hold
the flames back in-between my teeth.
I’d sew my lips together with steel thread
But the fire would melt it away carelessly.
I burn my skin and take extinguishers to my tongue
Just to keep the flames back.
I wish this power came with nobs
That could adjust the flames from high to low;
But I’ll have to tame my spit-fire the hard way.

Dissected lip served in grained and pictured fixtures cracked

Spider webbed and spider trapped

Talking in forgots named of slayed littler things, as strewn about in the worms in hand

Slight of seethe in bulls horned speak

In Blackened eyes and turns of cheeks

In seek if speak of need

Weaker keyed of broken nobs in a doorless windows dream

Sing in singing

Sang to other trees

Trees of broken branches

Rootless mud of rockied roads, detoured to a cliff slide view

Face the rain with open eyes and not blink

Like the bankers bunch of wankers buying immunity, taking the community chest and passing go.
Monopoly funny but it's your ******* money they're moving around.
Swimming pools and Eve St Laurent,
the perfume of being right when you're wrong and
just pay the fine,
defraud and
***** the public purse.
The social spike ain't going to jail,too many posh nobs ******* on the pay trail,
feeding on the poor sure is filling,
Negotiate a settlement it doesn't matter that we're bent we're bankers,tossers,selling off our losses,calling in the debts,
millions ,billions,
we'll make a few gazillions and the pillars of society can kiss our ****, we're the ******* barbie dolls,the bearded ******* billy goat trolls,
Investors **** us up,digest and get their dividend,we get,we lend,this gravy train will never end.
No shysters were injured during the making of this poem because they've got a guarantee
'steal the money and stay free'
The social spike will be the death of me and then they can steal my annuity.
*******.

Livin in that enthroned slum I'm dancin like a mischief creep
Steady mobbin arriving sometime-ish, I roll deep
I got a hot skull, I cause an eruption, everybody tweeked their nobs
With vices of virtue, I dont wanna hurt you shifty switch we mob
In chaotic bliss, what did I get myself into this time?
All of this grand design, the full experience
Go get some wisdom, it makes no sense. I wouldnt get myself out of this one

There was a great nation that wasn't that old.
Born when it broke from tyranny's hold,
The land once proclaimed freedom for all.
Who'd ever guess what would befall?
Here's what happened: a billionaire
With rude behavior and flaxen hair
Bluffed his way through an election
And won because of the law's imperfection.
Many voters could not understand
Why others had buried their heads in the sand.
That this outspoken man was the victor
Shocked many an election predictor.
Some said the win was not on the level
And gave the winner no reason to revel.
Whatever the case, this east coast resident
Became the nation's forty-fifth president.

(Many voters held misinformed views
From eating a steady diet of Fox News,
Gorging on pages of Breitbart sludge,
And wallowing in pools of something called Drudge.
They didn't see the signs that were looming
From a candidate NOT at all unassuming.
When demagoguery's alive and well
And one has a bill of goods to sell,
Some people miss the warning alarm.
They fail to imagine how much harm
A person can do to set back the nation,
And they give that person a standing ovation.
False news reports have power to affect
Election results when facts go unchecked,
And when people blindly accept what they read,
Manipulated "facts" do mislead.)

Before the newly elected official--
Whose reputation had been prejudicial--
Received an official swearing in,
He caused many heads to spin.
Posting on Twitter tweet after tweet--
Some of which were not so discreet--
He, on purpose or maybe not--
Depending on your school of thought--
Made many people and nations wary
With tweets that were more than a little bit scary.
To expand the nuclear capability
And disregard the world's volatility
Would be a plan that smacked of insanity
And also would be a threat to humanity.
The new leader just couldn't refrain
From posting such tweets that sounded insane.

Before taking office the leader selected
A team of advisers who truly projected
A frightening image to people who knew
What kind of damage officials could do.
Some appointees had donated huge
Sums to help elect their stooge.
Few had experience in their position,
But that didn't matter since their mission
Was not so much service, but instead
To **** the agency that they led.
One adviser, who stirred up much fear
And had his mouth in the new leader's ear,
Peddled conspiracy theories that made
Him sound like a madman on a crusade.
The country had never seen such a bunch
Of advisers so clearly out to lunch.

The new leader had a connection
With someone for whom he had great affection:
Vladimir Putin, a tyrant who led
A country called Russia, which once was red.
The reasons the two got so tight
Slowly but surely came to light:
The lifting of sanctions, business ties,
How to control people with lies…
The new leader's kids were also expected
To help their dad, who newly elected,
Had to make important decisions
Despite causing rifts and divisions.
(It's hard for a businessman
With a 90-second attention span
And whose thoughts keep disappearing
To make much sense of what he's hearing.)

The newly-elected president,
Who didn't care about time well spent,
Continued rallies from state to state.
The egomaniac couldn't wait
To stand before a cheering crowd
And share his petty thoughts out loud.
"I have a mandate," he muttered,
And falsehoods colored the words that he uttered.
"I'll make this country great again!"
Instead he made many hate again.
He promised to create millions of jobs;
But that was a ploy by him and his nobs.
The crafty plans of this bait and switcher
Would make the poor poorer and the rich richer.
The people would have a lot more to say
After Inauguration Day.

(To be continued…)

- by Bob B (12-26-16)

I check the door locks,
the gas stove nobs,
and the tail pipe of my car.
I roll my tongue to make sure I’m not having a  stroke,
and when I drink alcohol, I make sure to drink water right after.
I don’t sleep well because I have intense dreams of what I’ve done in the past or what I will do in the future.
I have a lot going on, and carry it all in the bags under my blue eyes.

Karen took the kids
and all the jars with lids
she was upset
that I gave are cat ket
it was spaced as ****
it started to cluck

it was foaming from the mouth
it started to eat all the door nobs around the house
it was a strange little ******
I preferred the dog it was a little sucker

Karen called me a simp
even after I gave the cat a limp
she told me to leave
and so I heave
and I refused as I had 8 kids
but the she took them along wit the lids

I have yet to meet a civil servant
it
seems to me they're all ignorant
and
treat the people like they're effluent,

and these
people they treat like this
are the same people
who pay them their emolument
which is a monumental liberty
and should be classed as a
tax liability

but if we keep these nobs in their jobs
and suffer their abuse
what's the flamin' use of people trying?

we're all dying out here
except for the civil servants and
the aristocracy,
they are like pigs in ****
loving every bit of it

When the bough breaks
the team disintegrates,

He
who hesitates
loses.

Have you guessed it's Monday?
a time to run day
make a quick getaway day,

Nobody
wants to play anymore.

In Stratford they're sleeping in
the old shopping arcade,
are they waiting for the sales to begin?

Grin and bear it
curse and swear
it must be an aberration,

Oh
what a fine nation
where some dine from
the dumpsters at the rear
of the station.

Westfield?
a bit left field
if you ask me.

It's harder to get jobs
when employers are
just knobs who are trying
to be nobs and dying to be
' his nibs ' on *** hill,

but you'd better believe
these are the *******
that thieve
the money from out of
your pockets.

You can't go to weddings in your wellybobs,
posh nobs tend to turn up at those do's
put those wellybobs away and we'll go
to shops today
and buy some patent leather wedding shoes.

Silence after time becomes blue
Does the city not feel calm?
The streets droning
Blue cars returning people
Blue doors waiting to be entered
Cold nobs waiting to feel - blue
Blue becomes silence after time

into a bed of thorns. Got cut
on the blinders we had on. Bled in
paisley accents in cornflower blue.
Cried in July when the latter
showed through, when arms once
again, became roots for the attachment
that extends at its end little nobs of
juniper in clusters. We mustered as
troops all the love that once was
for cornflower blue.

No Internet, is a new Christmas game

Where each player must find out who's to blame

                Some say Steve Jobs

            Or with those he hob nobs

   All anonymous, so impossible to name

Tactical mi God is
Render you unconscious
Polish television nobs
To channel light through
Disco vinyl clothes yeah
. Light shed
Information with no real substantial knowledge...
You consume the information
Entertaining ill acknowledge...
But gods in need of dire reconciensed
Bodies to bring the world a currency of God son... in command of earths inheritance.. the sailor gardener and goth kid... as my call remains my angel michael rests with God bless....

.  If Braille could squint out

      through this mornings

   window, he’d be surprised

    to see water buds dotting

the rear side of a pellucid page.


   Our deciduously decorated

  forecourt is a coded jigsaw, of

which we are unable to decipher.

Foliage on the foolscap, dunce'd

   by a lifetime of urbanisation.


Sheared sheep stand sentinel,

horses New Zealand'ly rugged

in Romney Marsh and Merino,

nickering amongst themselves,

downwind of an unuttered Ha Ha.


Hen is on her own, **** of the

walk and doodling as one does

in retirement, clocks going back

soon, roost earlier, longer nights,

  always the up side of winter.


Bluebell hob nobs on the AGA,

whilst, both Arthur and Henry  

Labradoriously share a settee,

attentively listening for the belfry

and the clamour of food bowls.




Staverton Hall is in Nottinghamshire
near the town of Daventry, where we
are currently minding a menagerie of
sheep horses two dogs a cat and 1 hen.

Google Staverton Hall,

the door
he stands
wood and frame
glass and nobs

Behind
the mask
she strains
cloth and string


Behind
the curtain
we are
no vaccination
or medication

Behind
this goal
this plan
on hold

until the numbers
drop
and this thing stops
can we go back to
the life we lived