Extremely excellent and not at all pointless Poetries for your culture part and definitely not your cruttle hatch.

Take one or two vague poetries a day and shove them forcefully inside the top of your cultural flouter, swallow hard and then try to forget what you did and how it tasted. Just like that time you were locked in at the dog shelter overnight.

It is essential, so don't ask questions and just get on with it.


Gripping the universe
or the idea it wants me to grip
rather, my buttery fingers
disturb, with a retracting sense of self
lumpy, fluttering collages of
parsnips, calippos and annual leave
I return to the moth grave nightly


Dental Negligence

Dental Negligence is not a hippo
Despite all evidence to the contrary


Prodigious Underpant

Prodigious underpant in a fit of conscience decided to wrap buttocks in a less sinister manner "I have sinned!" he cried his muffled confession went unheard and clarified nothing.


Cautiously Ahorse

I am cautiously Ahorse But no longer, of course Than a normal man standing next to a chicken. But I'm longer Of course Than a cautious horse That no longer can stand the taste of chicken When you are no longer Of course A cautious Horse Please get out of my kitchen I don't like imagining reckless quadripeds in my cooking areas. Get out!* ~* Unless you are the burgler part that stole my oven! Come back please!



Lungbash wasn't a cloth but he wasn't a gate what he sometimes wasn't, was a wooden red eight he didn't be wetter, or ninety minutes late he tried not being bricked in he was never a country fete Lungbash was an extremely badly restored baroque bow-fronted corner cabinet with mild depression and wet legs.


Fully Hilt was odd

Fully Hilt, gallantly untroubled, upon withdrawing support for sinful snails flippantly precipitated increased trouser sales though leg counts had doubled after a terrible evolution he therefore had no actual part to play in the events outlined above



Reticent oaf your lumpen refusal dissident bananas bear seed for no reason epaulettes of fear torment me in the night even amidst fruit out of season

Fourth Trouser and Sadly the moth

A stride beyond his usual dominion legs confounded, pockets compounded incapable of valued opinion - being so wrought Fourth Trouser had thought, VERY LITTLE OF NOTE, for three hundred years. he finished eating the moth Sadly
and sliced himself in the seat several times before hiding the body from the authorities. (Sadly was not missed and never found)

Beefy Bob

Beefy Bob awoke with a throb momentarily forgetting he was surgical swab and was incapable of throbbing, or lobbing or bobbing or describing a watermelon with accuracy
so he stabbed himself in the cloth four times before hiding the body from his colleagues at the custard farm

Porrig was a jealous frog, with lips of envy and nostrils of want

Porrig was a jealous frog a frog that could not see a frog at odds in petering bogs because he could not be Porrig was jealous of all the frogs jealous of their lillies and jealous of their logs but the problem with Porrig the problem you see Was Porigg's colour matched his jealousy Porrig was green all over himself green in the pond and green on the shelf green in the toilet and green in bed green from his legs to the top of his head So poor Porrig decided to be ANGRY instead

Moths 1

An indignant flutter ~ invidious squint ~ beneath aroused antennae ~ intentions cast as impulsions ~ do you seek to fool me, moth? I hid your moth body twice beneath a clock

Oboe in a grubby beaker

Improvised vessel for my voluminous vanity Subduer of stolen and now stationary sound When I woke up next to a beaker I was dismayed at what I found Perpendicular pipe of facial wind Misconstrued my desires And conspired to be binned Inside a grubby beaker As I loomed aloft and peered without heart cold and oblivious like a clown in space My oboe, once rigid musical part rested woefully inside the grubby place lacking sorely for facial wind, respect and a friendly aperture. I am bereft of oboe.

Unploughed pupes

When pupes fathom incorrectly all may be lost


Diligent Strokes

Diligent Strokes was mocked and belittled verbally abused, and emotionally crippled ~ Despite his incredible capacity for extreme and terrible and bloody violence Diligent Strokes was afforded no room Spatially ignored, and dimensionally doomed ~ Regardless of his overtly large and sickening and terrifying physical presence Diligent Strokes was taken apart structurally menaced, and cohesively marked ~ In a stark and blatant heedless oversight of the fact that he was deliberately assembled Unbelievable, really. fin

Harmonic Spatula's tidy thought

Left behind Like a comb


Higgs Boson lick my face particles you sexy quantum bastard

Warm me in your tiny ubiquitous quantum field, gently lick my non sweaty bod, I deride you not with my liberal use of commas I fear you as a god, if we were constantly at the speed of light I would be quite a sweaty beast, you give mass to lucky electrons, like a tiny floating magnetic priest, with a 5 sigma recording you are probably the genuine article, Higgs boson lick my atoms you most celebrated elementary particle


Tearing asunder my friend's cod roe

Tearing asunder my friend's cod roe I had no consideration for the plight of his toe attached to his body but not on the leg my friend's only option a fish with no head but fish on the toe is not quite the cure for misplaced appendages I am reasonably sure. so I'm not sorry for my actions and I refuse to stop killing the moth

My face

ALL OVER MY FACE like a finger MY FACE IS NOT BRAILLE, MADAM please evacuate my face Do not linger YOU READ ME INCORRECTLY I am for the fully sighted and the polite only SEE MY FACE, SEE IT CLEARLY it is a FACE, round thing on a neck part not a resting place for digits of the lonely!

Imaginary Dream

What that did at first appear an orinary dream, firmly met aflared, yet sunken (and wet) like a terribly open prostrate porpoise Later transpired to be nothing yet screams in the mist of night thin trombone of grief contorting the wind from my sack the oboe, fleeting mocks me in its absence

Undiluted Bastardry

A recipe for the ultimate entertainment bastard.
Very large bowl required.
And a stick.

1. Two tsps of Piers Morgan to start we need a bastard who causes visual grief a man whos deathly inclusion might wet on your relief some beady, pleady eyes; some garrulous desperation the needy, wheedly cries and abject abberation two teaspoons of the purest weasley bastard is required Piers Morgan is the surest continue once aqcuired


moth 2

prostrate, flattened the tribute shifted insidious eye contact threw me I set fire to the moth carefully guilty but never beguiled fin

When did this happen?

fate, loftily conspired lucidity had yet fluffed those pillows called upon like some pavement. with a face lacking grip, stability (and litter) he expected very little from that encounter
setting fire to the moth was the only way out

Furious milk

Furious Milk happened by chance to mend his shoe after committing his aunts who had both become irretrievably and fundamentally insane earlier.. Furious Milk broke his blisters tripping upon bacon after killing his sisters who had both become inexplicably and copiously herbivore Furious milk smashed his sandals cracked upon bones running on vandals who had both purposefully and malevolently desecrated his brothers graves Furious milk wet his socks uncontrollably laughing dancing in smocks which had both belonged profusely and incapably to his mother Furious milk ended his life realisation dawning insanity was rife in a family all now inescapably and vigorously dead fin

Furious Milk - the vague whelk

Why is there soy sauce on my face?

When all is not quite as it seems Soy sauce on your face Isn't as pleasant as you might deem For a brown quality liquid You could do a lot worse But resting on my face Is not the customary place For for a sauce-based liquid or even a purse. A cat on my hand Would be less out of place Than a brown salty liquid Resting on my face Am I a freak destined to watch life through the locked bars of insanity for the rest of my days or was the woman just joking? So please get off my face Go and find a sushi to rest on If you don't aquiesce I will soak you up to death with a napkin. fin


And she did shout and curse out loud What would you have me do now, o Sea? Latvian sea that could not be The sea remained silent For it could not see A wise course of action for the young beserk And what of you, young crab of red? crab that scuttles, over the shallow sea bed The crab that existed only in the mind and head of a young and deranged creature Who's sanity had long since fled ~That the crab would hold its counsel again confirmed There was no answer to her maniacal bewailings Would you have me kill again, O latvian frog? Frog found squished, in the petering bog Frog with capacity for inciting such interrogation An imaginary creature that hails from a frogless nation The frog's reticence only confirmed The killing again plan was most coldly affirmed fin

Not exactly a retired clam

Excelling within a shell without a dietrary diatribe extolled with clout Fell about his limp and vacant feet Baron von Clamm refused to retire on the grounds that he was a porker

Phil Collins cares not for the nerves in my toe

when phil collins trod on my foot with his leg of drumming and his shoe of faith this treader of toe this invader of space did cry unto my legs did stare at my face who is this musical foe this lyrical clodhopper this stepper on toe this deaf drummer of lore this prog-rock mofo? this questionable cockerny this despoiler of chukkers These questions remain unanswered to this day, and it is for this reason that when he offers to take me to paradise I am not altogether sure.

A seal named Gerrard
(The back parts of a curly bracket)

A seal named Gerrard with his fins upon the floor swam accross my slumber and thought he saw much more sleeping in human form he misconstrued my needs swapping my spine for a curly bracket despite my plaintive pleas I live not on a keyboard! I counselled him wisely But all I said was sadly in vain as he told me nicely you resemble in my eyes some sort of punctuation you're clearly mad, you're no more human than I am oceanic crustacean I killed him and set fire to the body before realising that I was probably going to be stuck this way for life.

A chimeric music man

Wouldst thou discredit me with your fibs? A man with features taken from instrument I little understood what he but meant "Wouldst thou buy my frogs?" "Your nose is a trumpet?" "Wouldst thou buy my socks? "Your mouth reedy clarinet!" "Circumcise your insensitive jibes, and speak of business matters alone, lest I strike you down like a weasel earthquake!" my suspicion allayed as warm concrete batter (with no apparent incline) I would buy many elements it would be to flatter to assign any real function trinkets, a trifle, a bibelot "This molecule scraper, it lacks for a handle" "Mine pancreas resembles a hammond organ?" "Your vibrating paintbursh, perhaps missold?" "You of weakened wit may not comprehend functions beyond your field, desist your ignoble ignominy and cease your libellous leakage, lest I smite you as a bongo botherer" It was thus I was misled bereft of money and reputation (that I deserved mostly) laughed out of town home and even yet police station "His face was banjolele!" "You speak asunder." "His eyes flaps of tamborine" "Your insolence a wonder. Cease your witterings lest I set about you like a warren-full of beavers. Get out!" It was thus I learned I was irretrievably, inescapably insane.

Chimeric Music Man - the vague whelk

Intolerant of irrelevance

Lying down, unregarded (like a crumb) Salient Michael, a man fully broken no longer relevant to any, but oaf, simpleton, cretin or newsagent rather than change his name slowly died on top of the transponder

Tin of Things

a tin I found on a mat one day contained little more than egg and dismay it stiffed me up with it's lid of misleading resting atop metal lip like a robotic moustachioed ceiling like one of my socks you contain no biscuits AND I HATE YOU upon inspection the following week the tin contained some egg and some leek I had been wrong all along so I killed myself and set fire to the tin thirty times fin

Teet Of Fear

O Teet of fear why rustle my ear I cannot hear your lamentations! like a naked shark your disconsolate hark is confusing and frightening in equal measure your anguished cries wet not my eyes I am deaf to your muffled agitations! oblivious to your plaint I have yet to acquaint the cause of your grief I see no relief like a murderous elephant in a balloon, you confuse and frighten me in equal measure oh Teet of fear with your murderous howl please be more Teet and relax on the foul until my fear is no longer fully realised

Astral Projections

As I floated back down to the point, the point I had left very much aggrieved my projected ambivalence had been quite rude the antipathy there, I had not conceived it seemed I hadn't actually murdered the point there and then I felt casually relieved - (like a urination in a sports jacket) I celebrated on Tony's meat face, she is the pizza-cake I grew up with before I turned out this way The point I returned to after my physical absence broadened in my vision like an elaborate spot I felt quite secure the point had survived but as I landed aground I saw it had not the point my ambivilance had surely offended had packed it's bags and gone for a trot I started to panic and I cut up a local wren that had seen everything and was giving it large

Lairy, a wren

Woken from induced mollification lairy wren, frothing, quoth him I am committed to danger! I will lay my bloody wings upon thee! my wings will chaos arrange her sadly his sentence was lost and sounded very similar to some insanity he established a colony in my kidney he smoked a pipe in my horror-show when the tobacco, moistend, fell out and about interesting bibilots were fashioned below sadly they looked like droppings from a fevered nought and smelt much like some insanity

Passing asunder an errant buttock

It was early in the day yet late in the morning when buttocky feelings soon came dawning In a strange place of waking a nervousness accame dry humping my head spawning shame What happens to buttocks during the night When buttockless legs are resting without sight They multiply and sing But not at the same time that would be weird guy Straight down the line My buttock was inside me Nestling my kidney Singing out of tune What sounded like Whitney What followed thereafter I recount with a shudder I defecated my buttock I passed it asunder fin


Cheese: my friend, my food; errant from my plate cheese of blue and hairy hue won't you stop crying and come back to my plate? You used to be there right next to the biscuit biscuit of brown and inescapable frown biscuit that goes all the way down (eventually to my bottom parts). Come back to me, cheese, I'll treat you right Try not to eat you or force you to fight the Quiche or the biscuit, or fridge cheese container parts I might eat a bit, would that be OK? If you say no, that's totes OK. fin

An existential leak

Leak, get out of my bucket! Leak, your natural role in the universe as vegetable, destined for soup pot clutch at ye with this misunderstanding! Attempting to force water from my bucket Don't you understand, leak? THAT IS THE WRONG TYPE OF LEAK please It is time to adjust yourself to the correct

Man with a ladder

A man with ladder, a stepped contrivance wooden and bold enabling defiance of land based arguments and rungs too old fist nor foot able to hold (even if you used chalk) quickly decided to end it's life The man with the ladder, an evil device wrathful and mighty was gripped in a vice a vice of iron tightened with shame to a point where breathing was a bit of a pain (even if you used a bicycle pump) quickly decided to plead for mercy A corpse's ladder, an apparition allayed fugacious vice killer rungs bloodily sprayed As if in prayer the Gods answered not former owner's head now tied in a knot decided to hold his counsel


Berlusconi was licking a pony which he thought resembled some fraud but a kinky tycoon addicted to poom poom will almost certainly fall off and break an eyelid if he isn't careful Berlusconi was holding a party gripping it tight round the neck an ex-prime minister with trousers quite sinister may well irritate the People of freedom and its right wing chums if he isn't a bit careful Berlusconi was addressing a crowd trying to find a big stamp a corporate lord will inevitably get bored perhaps undressing them would be a more sensible approach, if of course you are careful with the zip parts Berlusconi was coming back from the dead without even using a map. even a priapic zombie with less integrity than romney may lose to Bersani's Democratic Party coalition which could lead to a shaky coalition government, and a hung Parliament. If he isn't careful. fin


your tiny beady eyes gripping, squinting, blinking consternation like belligerent rectums, forced to yield, to inexorable defecation flicking across that porcine brow envince a closed uncompromising perspective Your eyes may as well be noughts and join your faecal emitting aperture collective

A Cautionary Christmas Tale

Provocatively positioned Precariously perched Armpit Boris lairily lurched falteringly flailing and dangerously decorating resting atop ladder mistakenly masturbating Crushing his christmas with daredevil decisions Armpit Boris lacking in luck fell to his death destroying a duck and slowly died on top of a new carpet epilogue OH WOE, woe is me! he certainly cried before remembering his deathly condition at which point he held his counsel and lay there until february the 3rd whereupon his occasional pet cat Graham found him and licked his nose carelessly.

Intransiently transient

fermenting gently on definite parts of his brain Nascent thoughts brewing not entirely made of sane struck wonderously affirmed "I will not kill again!" cried the dangerous caterpillar Then he killed the moth four times and set fire to the body again which just goes to show, really.


Psires the wooly reason

And Psires wept and wailed and wheezed and cursed out loud his unsatisfactory knees! each and every season it was said he became not a lot unlike a very unlikely reason (like a dehydrated fish in the sea) And he didn't fit or match or please his legs and his feet were more relevant than his knees which were said to leak tizer and renovate peas but what psires was was a very wooly reason (like a failing bicep in a breeze) Applied to an effect, an outcome or a meal Psires fitted not and sadly wasn't real he lacked any sense (and an ability to kneel) so he killed himself and set fire to the body three times before disappearing forever


freshly dug up potato O nameless fellow of the soil tell me do you have a soul do your mourn your peaty bed? your silence speaks in volume I really hate it when I find myself in these situations I will eat your face gently then set fire to myself in shame