“Mostly nonsense – zumpinequanger!”
Coax the words out from the pen
Slap and shake them out again
Splurging, surging, oozing out
Patterns form, some rhyme, some shout
Sometimes short, sometimes longer
Mostly nonsense – zumpinequanger!
Smothering all that’s on the plate
A verbal ketchup to placate
And mask the truth (that bitter pill)
With a poisonously addictive tale
made palatable
by a sugar-coated quill.
Guest Poet – Kevin Stubbs
At the end of the garden,
In the outhouse bog,
I sit,
unlit.
Red-gold rays of the retreating sun
Crawl through the cracked and weathered window frame.
This old man will countenance no waste
On 3-ply, 2-ply or aloa-vera infused.
Rough-ripped squares of daily mail on a driven nail
Are all that he will use.
“I, am a teenage angster…”
I, am a teenage angster
A frustrated mid-twenties gangster
Words for bullets – obviously
Expletive explosives
don’t f@ck with me
With wit as sharp as a knife
I’m in your face for a slice of life
Don’t want your fear you fool
Respective, defective
And cool in school
Now there’s faith hope and charity
I punched their lip ‘cos they sneered at me
They left, now my life’s a Hell hole
Humility, futility
I sold my soul
“Desperate for a final glimpse of the life,
eternity is poised to erase”
In death I stand
Beside a house
Lodged in the darkness
And press my face to a window
Seeing only silhouettes
I strike a futile blow against the pane
Desperate for a final glimpse of the life
Eternity is poised to erase
I turn to stare out towards my future
And contemplate what lies ahead,
Alone, in that dark silence
I shiver.
“…Anathema attack”
Abhorrent cough
Odious wheeze
Hateful rasp
Offensive inhalation
Evil constriction
Repugnant chest
Repellent gasp
Abomination ventilation.
Not much fun, Anathema attack.
Yapparister – December 2013
“…all I want for Christmas is…”
Last year,
All I got for Christmas was…
A pinch of salt – for resolutions
A bottle of glue – for broken promises
A roll of paper – for cracks
A camcorder – to capture missed opportunities
A drop of milk – over which to cry
A carpet – under which to brush indiscretions
A cabinet – to hoard all mistakes
A room – for an elephant
A knife – for the back
A clothes line – for airing dirty laundry
A spectacle – for neighbours
A bridge – to burn
A road – to hell.
This year,
All I want for Christmas is…
A new lover – preferably one who doesn’t fancy my best mate.
Yapparister – December 2013
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.
“A back-garden-walled no-man’s land…”
Away from the safety of my childhood home
Around the back of twitching curtains
Lay a strip of half-forgotten land
A back-garden-walled no-man’s land
Where bins, toppled,
Spewed their plastic intestines
Across a tarred and broken path.
Wild borders, long grass, nettles, weeds
Dead rats, dog crap, dark freedom
The place to dissect a long dead crow
Scoop shit on sticks and throw
Chalk a name, something profane, onto Mrs Walker’s wall
And darker still
A place to sip alcohol
Light a smoke, set fire to bins.
“I’m just looking for a horse… that flies”
I want a unifying faith
I want a world that’s always safe
I want a love that never dies
I want a horse
… that flies
I want to be loved without ever caring
get where I need to without any bearing
be happy in the gutter forget the sky
I want a horse
… that flies
I want to grow up, but to tell the truth
I get vertigo on a bungalow roof
hate to stretch when I can just get by
I want a horse
… that flies
I want to hold you and not grow old
drop the poker face, resist the fold
be a permanent fixture not a passer-by
I want a horse
… that flies
I want to have my cake and eat it
turn the other cheek so you can beat it
I want the things that money can’t buy
I want a horse
… that flies
I want a unifying faith
I want a world that’s always safe
I want a love that never dies
I’m just looking for a horse
… that flies.
Yapparister – October 2013
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.
“Tree-top pigeon tweets”
Tree-top pigeon tweets
‘Magpie dictator deposed’
Sounds like a high coo
By Yapparister – July 2013
“Anemone of the State”
Strange times,
Nothing is above suspicion.
In South Dakota,
Even the Pasque Flower
Is considered Anemone of the State.
Yapparister – July 2013
yapparister 