Killern, Killern
Strange in remembering the numb
Bum of ttack
From boredom
And reverie
The dream of Gerontius
And the father of flea
Or was it flee, jump fly
Escape
Take the leap of faith
Even you yes you
Could be the next winner of
The exclusive tape
Wound about the ears of priests who listen
Dogs who don't
Frozen Christenings
And bottle neck births
Too tight
To know
Their ass from their elbow
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Matis sitting down
the ruly Matis in the pompadue centre
The big time piano
Perhaps now I think that the book in the house
Always Matisz is on a postcard or poster
Lots of production
The Matisz is reproduced a lot
Lost in the modern worls
Its reproductivitivy
He stops in the force
Very truly an artiste
In the xposition
If Matis is always here, he rests
We look for colour, absolute resolution
It is used therefore the period
Take it always the it encourages the artist
A p
And I demand the
The first impression is a plastic
He consider the first the expression was conserved, he was complex, until he could move into tphotography
Vanessa progressive
It is truly an expression of force
29may
For exmple in the first tableu
A liberty characteristic
The old lines
Matis started a tableu
On the table beaucoup
It is closed until next year
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
All aboard on the Danish coast
The glowing reports
Of nethermost
And birds that heard the shred of lies
The truth in tatters by the pork pies
A call was heard from Amsterdam
The chocolate toast, the raspberry jam
And colder nose, but older ties
Hold those most, until he dies
Freezing in the underworld
Of doom disappear over a girl
Achilles swears then shoes away
A hornet from his ankles sway
And castanet, and bells they jangle
As fishing nets and horns they tangle
Up in the deep blue of Grecian seas
Oh me oh my oh me
For further down the lullaby
A dog is labelled an Angel now
And the angel is in the house how
Does it go with thee?
The birds they fly in kaleidoscopes
And other tires bring other ropes
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
It is the fourth wall
The fourth time around
That my cliffs fall
And time's oceans roll
In delicate rhymes of whale song
Down garden paths where I belong
Too too-fated prices of corn
In the gob of the chief of the indians
I cut away his tongue and say bull
Bully bull finch
Through fried green tomato skies
Of the Northern lights
Where cold eskimo people dwell
I clash like a four-poster bed upon the shore of
Your reeling consciousness and hope stands guard
Out side the caravan of your despair
That makes its way through the desert and the tented ladies there
And camping hands are sprung in traps
As baby birds are eaten by reindeer
And filtered back through water taps
In the fourth wall that is broken down
And segways of conversation
That never muster dreggs of disintegration
Into holes like sheep jumping over bars of soap
Or shower head reaching epiphanies in the graveyard shifts
Of cat and dog mouse trap trips
Where each tail is tasted like a bead of sweat from a heaving bible
Carried on the back of the Siamese army
Marching through twin town
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
When my day comes
Everything is gonna taste sweet
There'll be Candy Castles
And Sugary people, all down the street
I'll lick the lamposts
I'll chew on the kerb
The chocolate soldiers will stand at their posts
And there'll be toffee trees and sherbert herbs
When my day comes in Chocolate town
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Duck butts in the air
Stick your duck butts in the air
Like you just don't care
while looking for your grub down there
Shake those tail feathers
Fellas, ladies
Mallards, Drakes
Come on and waggle it
Just a little bit
Make no mistakes
There's party going down on the lakes!
Come on and haggle it
Come on duck on the dance floor
Dance, dance duck on the ice some more
Slap and tickle those little duck flipper flappers
Slipping off a duck's back like Jack Daniels
Don't throw no stones at glass houses
Fly on home
In your thousands
Canada Geese just looking for release
Come abounding, resounding to the beat
Of a hundred duck feet,
paddling
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
All the teeming little monsters down on the lake
Eating themselves
there's no mistake
Dragon flies gobble midgies
And Mosquitoes suck my blood
The only one who doesn't know
is Noah with his flood
Bring the animals two by two
the amster the gerbil
Even the cock roach too?
Oh Mrs Noah in her hide
Could not have conceived the turn about
Nor the laundry bill for accommodating all those lost souls,
But down on the lake
It all goes round
Like a washing machine
Clothes in a tumble drier
This year to next the seasons change
The reds mix with the whites
And it all gets stained green
From a favourite pair of socks
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.