Poezii de Jim Bellamy

foto credit Maria Draghici

foto credit Maria Draghici

C/O a Loaded Sofa Wife

these hostels under motel fire use fans for rings

these hotels under nuked spires

sunder chambers with naked sea-squires

and a focal father feels after murdered hymns

and, o, as fevers reel

then foetal fingers will seal hands aside quim

and a flowery lap

cums sundering sap with poppy feed

Oh, a nudist rat slams cats across seed and

Oh, as fatalists ram bats then crooked seasand

sirens after a mazy scream

these hostels under modellers nuke ole slams

these motels under fashioners

nukes a beller with a killer’s closed issuer

and, la la, a daddy kid shoots pigs to death and

slavers of madam pick

savour corneal thumbs with fatal mother lips

O, a coded coda cry craps across blue ships

O, a loaded sofa wife

slappers across masked rites

and we weevil after musak

and we sear mirrors with pikes

and we scatter sculleries against shit lights

these devilishly dirty dames who bend

must send trillers to maimed wet-sleep: Men

must don dragglers

and a closing figgler must send sweat-hens

to claspers

,

Uh Uh END?

*

these are my mallard days when i believe in hired waters

o these are my winged days

and, once laced, a vase of eyes must sleep for doctors

and, once maced, a glass of lives

must surely interfuse a rainbow with fast tides

and there is a mountain at my window

and there is a killer’s fat cat preening sounds

and a cavvy christ caresses mills with wastegrounds

and a savvy light

gets cut from mice

these are my mallard days when i relive god’s daughters

o these are my winged claves

and, once mitred, my hands seen in caves

will surely sunder me

and impassable unencumbered bees sting across trees

and men and impossible river beads

get glowered aside daddies and matrial moon-leas

these are my mallard days when i relieve life’s nests

o these are my washing days

and me and oceanic budder boys dream of nets

and me and conical butter boys

cream for a looted eagle-circus

and a boner in booted seeds bag a big topper with

sacred dials where beds spin

o a coded coda cavvy crusades for spind winds as

piggers pee along shorn sties and,

mind-gabled, a bended storm sunders cold England

and, mammy-mined, a spade scrams digs for glass

and, oo, as we ride to county sleep

then we sunder idle bibles with celtic welsh-wheat

Ahh, these are my mallard days when i send cat-meat

to impassable feline-canine mind-heat

Ahh, these are my salad teas when i feed bat-meat to

cornices and carnival heart-sleep

and a budding sky-valve startles a rattler as blues

widen boats under carters and sad cattler lubes

O

*

the dramatisers of daddy vinegars loosen minds with rain

o fascinators of lady kindlers

snap across naved babby; and a hotel in a plumed brain

comes to sunder dog-data from caddis

and, star-shaved, a batter in sea-harness

summons serial cervixes to blown flowers where diamonds

supper after candlers

o canny curved cave-christs walk aside warders when grain

bedazzles mazy armies with sandlers

canners of cannibols shade a director of dirt inside lays

ah canned mien-dolls

shoot venereal fathers stone dead

and a bleeder of blue fever sends blonde men to slayed

mental findlers

and, once nuked, a baby under brens bounces across rain

and bald rain cuts the space we tread?

*

JDB 20/04/2021

C/O An Indigo Sideshow

o a cabinet cola face hastens to a fast moon

o a cabinet under mace

sunders mad lunar dunes

and a focal lace fire sunders dreams with waste

and, uh, tomato castlers

summon palaces from green fire

these are my mallard days where i use eyes to

siren after guarded venal views

and a cabin garden gets sucked under pews

and a daddy diamond

sunders necks then bleeds forever.

o a cabinet cola face hastens to a vast moon

o a cabinet under space

sundes sad solar tunes

and a fatal facial summons sex from monsoons

and crazed faeces get eaten..

these are my mallard days where i use eyes to

dig for paintings and salads..

*

the rigs of bacon billowers slap a fast arse

the gigs of beaten gallowers

slap a vast mask; and a digger for old glass

sunders sindlers with featherers

and a blowing skin

gets cut from hymns; and a parent wind

washes hands in de devil’s past

and a dog of sin

sunders spinneys where the darkness grows

these are my mallard days where i use eyes to

sermonise the petrol laves of evil girl-snoods

and a soothing pyre

ravels into time as daddy spires sink tyres

aside timeless easy fellowers of pink mires

the rigs of bacon billowers snap a fast mast

*

o a cabinet sofa face slashes across a bled world

o a scissor in mute space

clashes with limbs; and a dogdayed eye-pace glows

aside flourishers of blind mace

and milky fatal bone binds dolls to dust as souls

get fed to silky domes

and, ah, as fearless fawked drones sunder rivers

then salted sky-sloanes must

cum scattering butters across easy feline musk

the rigs of bacon billowers snap from damasks

and a nippy on a flower

sheds chewy leaves where a fascinator of livers

launches diggers of powder

and a rhythmic painter pisses across lost riders

*

eyers of easy wires splay fairy fans as codas

come crying at death’s hall

o eyers of easy tyres

cum slamming car-gall; and a deadener mauls

a darknening statue with pacers

and a father to a star-mall sunders dead drawl

la la, a rigging bridal gown shaves mess clean

la la, a digging idle town

gets cut up; O, a daddy moon uses red dreams

to ravel under vines

eyers of easy spires spread angel-tusks as dolls

summon vaginal hermes from a mummy moll

and as eyelids cross

then feinters of loss sidle where coded moss

gets kicked off

la la, a rigging bridal sound shaves songs clean

la la, a digging idol-ground

sunders massing murder where a local dream

dies

*

the starry wintry nights where i live inside christ

will hereby sunder prayer

o a glosser of thunder snares

a living faith; and a human snare uses old life

to summon dogs to air

and a daddy mask vans keen air for red mice

and a daffy mast

gets burned

and a model class sears lessons from permed

body bakers

eyers of easy spires splay thumbs with hounds

eyers, bugged, deafen as a blinder has to sound

a buggy box and grey seasons

and, la la, eyes sunder pies

and, la la, spies sunder treasons

and a badgered flower flows as mental towns

shy aside a nude mission

the starry wintry nights where i listen to clowns

must hereby supper for nightlings

and, oo, blue holidays share cars with killings

uh

*

the ideal hustlers who sunder easy fevers

hereby nestle under blues

o an ancient face sunders truths

o an acrid face cuts chopped broods and

fathers to fatalities

siren after maladies as slitted gassed sand

leases veins to granaries

and a bolted bed seasons guns with islands

and a vaulted naked fox

barks at hired winds; and a baby in a box

cums showering eyes with garlands

eyers of blown husbands scour after rocks

eyers of stoned sea-slams

ride across scent as a deacon under clocks

glows, just like a mother glows;

and an ancient mike sings after dummy docks

and a natal mental saint

collides with minted paints

and, oo, as timelessness fascinates ole cock

then easers of splinted bums

carries deaths far west where Mary swings

*

these hostels under motel fire use fans for rings

these hotels under nuked spires

sunder chambers with naked sea-squires

and a focal father feels after murdered hymns

and, o, as fevers reel

then foetal fingers will seal hands aside quim

and a flowery lap

cums sundering sap with poppy feed

Oh, a nudist rat slams cats across seed and

Oh, as fatalists ram bats then crooked seasand

sirens after a mazy scream

these hostels under modellers nuke ole slams

these motels under fashioners

nukes a beller with a killer’s closed issuer

and, la la, a daddy kid shoots pigs to death and

slavers of madam pick

savour corneal thumbs with fatal mother lips

O, a coded coda cry craps across blue ships

O, a loaded sofa wife

slappers across masked rites

and we weevil after musak

and we sear mirrors with pikes

and we scatter sculleries against shit lights

these devilishly dirty dames who bend

must send trillers to maimed wet-sleep: Men

must don dragglers

and a closing figgler must send sweat-hens

to claspers

,

Uh Uh  END?

*

these are my mallard days when i believe in hired waters

o these are my winged days

and, once laced, a vase of eyes must sleep for doctors

and, once maced, a glass of lives

must surely interfuse a rainbow with fast tides

and there is a mountain at my window

and there is a killer’s fat cat preening sounds

and a cavvy christ caresses mills with wastegrounds

and a savvy light

gets cut from mice

these are my mallard days when i relive god’s daughters

o these are my winged claves

and, once mitred, my hands seen in caves

will surely sunder me

and impassable unencumbered bees sting across trees

and men and impossible river beads

get glowered aside daddies and matrial moon-leas

these are my mallard days when i relieve life’s nests

o these are my washing days

and me and oceanic budder boys dream of nets

and me and conical butter boys

cream for a looted eagle-circus

and a boner in booted seeds bag a big topper with

sacred dials where beds spin

o a coded coda cavvy crusades for spind winds as

piggers pee along shorn sties and,

mind-gabled, a bended storm sunders cold England

and, mammy-mined, a spade scrams digs for glass

and, oo, as we ride to county sleep

then we sunder idle bibles with celtic welsh-wheat

Ahh, these are my mallard days when i send cat-meat

to impassable feline-canine mind-heat

Ahh, these are my salad teas when i feed bat-meat to

cornices and carnival heart-sleep

and a budding sky-valve startles a rattler as blues

widen boats under carters and sad cattler lubes

O

*

the dramatisers of daddy vinegars loosen minds with rain

o fascinators of lady kindlers

snap across naved babby; and a hotel in a plumed brain

comes to sunder dog-data from caddis

and, star-shaved, a batter in sea-harness

summons serial cervixes to blown flowers where diamonds

supper after candlers

o canny curved cave-christs walk aside warders when grain

bedazzles mazy armies with sandlers

canners of cannibols shade a director of dirt inside lays

ah canned mien-dolls

shoot venereal fathers stone dead

and a bleeder of blue fever sends blonde men to slayed

mental findlers

and, once nuked, a baby under brens bounces across rain

and bald rain cuts the space we tread?

*

ahh as manx flesh forms fans from screeners then boas

will most certainly set alight to a slaughtered bower

and a latent moth, car-crossed,

shudders for lost apiaries

and a wicked wound seeps cottages

and a wicked tomb reaps hostages; O, as manx flour

drips a bun from villages

then gladers of de hour launch lunch across cobras

and, la la la, a jaw-jacking vaulted sea-lion

snips a colic rider from old colted bead-irons; O, motors

cum scattering malt seed across piers

and, scuttering, volumous crisscrossed grey tears

shoot saline rocks from revenues of false fears

ahh as manx mess forms vans from screamers then dolts

will most certainly shoot a carrot mien

o-la, dated familiies rout a parrot when aged dead bolts

clap a caser inside blown baby

and, where labia stinks of a sweet pox, then a darted ruby

may well slide across a lanced lace-floor

……

*

the tawny bastard sun-stream that leered inside my window

is hereby assaulted by massive straps

and, easily sent to die, a student of traps meshes with widows

and a dizzy cat-canteen

corrodes till sex gets stormed

oo a ladener of fierce timbers glowers from a painted moth

oo a reasoner, gobbed, simmer when summers burn

and a candy cloth

carries carrion to moss; and a treater on her side

sets fire to hilled perms

tawny bastard men star-cream as a noonish moon-sky

gives bright head to dovetailed mushrooms

and, la la, a bed at sea tramples teeners across wide

wolven sugar-hair

and eaters of ingenious jammers glamorise fast thighs

and wynchers, car-caped, sunder ancient eye-tides

with wickedness and easy lies.

.

*

lifters of lousy lob lolly men hem pickers aside hives

drifters, danglered, shoot holly ripplers with mad scythes

o, a camphored dammy christ

hereby riflles after money lice

and a caged cartoon swells up, up

oo a violet stone gets blown across ole finger-dice

and a trampling mast

gets fed to magic masks

..

o-la, these are my mallard days where i will defy

all vast and venal glassrooms

o-la, these are my mastiff days where i will deny

all vast and venereal cartoons

and a capping candle-cocoon leases dogs to blithe

bobbing bracelets

oo a sizzlered heart-heap hollows dust with wide

weepy mill-tithes

and a nudish fart-fleet wallows under seasawn prides

and a looter of cunt-sleep

sunders dabby drivers with paved nets and blue meats

as waders underwatered by splayed spades and sleep

come thundering after bled sheets and Ides

then a dallied sparrow shits along a nest of blithe

blonded bud-bone

and, lug-maced, a drabbler of blouse-stone

cascades where a dyer of nettles moves home to

a nude space where patent parent-painters soothe

cardial koda chromes…

..

the cat nearby fetches a teabag from a kitchen bin

the tramp found in ditches

lambasts cosmic bats with candled naked begged skin

and an automatic rainbow

clambers from weird waves

and an instamatic crow caws at city plays

and, sold to infancy, a heaver of naves sky-slow

cocaine bowed butters with an indigo sideshow

Oh?

**

20/04/2021

**

As Blue-Sex-Tyranny Affects a Cocked Mind

as blue-sex-tyranny affects a cocked mind

then feelers will surely feel

where dead memory cuts out: closed reels

will have to use pedals to poeticise a meal

with tramplered sea-wines

and a doctor to de day uses nights to

seal doom deniers in lazy rubella

and a native child whose head runs wild

masons after concrete smiles

and a nude old child gets

stone-cut from marblers of easy kecks

O

*

inside a merry dream, i heard pugs next door

watching over eagle-pie

o aside a cherry screen, i heard pigs in eyes

widening for denial

and a matching gal-top uses a circus for whores

and louted skin, spind, trickles as dad crackles

where sex tyranny affects a cockled bine

then chokers of burials

will surely rend a reddener with cold times

and a city body comes down to rest

within a tracking sky-gun

O

uh

*

the idlers whose sleepy mind make-up sunders drips

will hereby shoot some clothes

o, stripers of dudes sleep for heart-cuts

and a dad at sea gets drowned under wave-sluts

and, la, as a sidler’s slinking father

gets jacked by lovers, then cat-caved easy nuts

get swollen

the idlers whose sleepy soul shake-ups use muts

to celebrate cochleas and hornets

will hereby shudder

and a waking fig must serve lime to instant cups

and a major mine

digs for lost gold

inside a cherry scream, layers lead lads to haloes

and, oo, shadowers, spleened, heave

after spastic palisades; and plastic women fellow

falons and disaster

uh

*

O, tonight i celebrate the very utmost darkness of my life

O, tomorrow, rented, will bury

dad daffodils aside choked cherries

and a bed at sea sunders dark berries

and, O, tonight i celebrate the very most sadness of rubies

the idlers of pulled times use shroud-fuses for bodies

the riders of belled times accuse mind-fixes of leading

bubonic bonnets to shadowers

and, eyed, sonnets swing for burrowers when ceilings

serenade dogs with clasped flowers

O, tonight i celebrate the very most madness of my life

and a wakeful world gets chained to pylons: christs

use hands for silk-milks

and a dummy on its sides dreams after green pelt:

irons use hot compresses with

a cocky coal-face whose magenta mine uses silt

to drag a duffer away from cribs

O, tonight, this earth gets done as gallowers car-tilt

across our vinegar lands; and we are boiling-built.

*

the diners who dine in the dark serenade a blown park

oo rhymers, stewed, send barks to green-sleep

and a dogdayed moon rends hearts

and a mouse-maimer shends hearts

the diners who dine in the dark weave sweet carts

with old-timed city horses

and an urban town accuse deaths of using hearses

to sunder the sides of sweet sparks

and, la la, these sparks of poet-fire will

move dangerous eyes to sleep

O, tonight, i will eat in the dark where my will

may well leave beer to dead relatives: criers will

storm stoney ricks

and, deified, lips shelter bones under pricks

and, certified, wicked melted stone-thunder

gives rise to lost arousers

a wakeful dialled world shuts all heaven in a

damsel’s vaginal pussy

and evil words will curl inside a blonde car

and a nuking pulse, scarred, uses red guitar

to swerve across muscle

uh

*

dusted gassy canoers get struck whilst drowned

crusted easy dad-sewers

hiss; and a queasy mad-driver uses red towns

to identify a china city from a killer

O, a laden ladybird uses spots for wings; and

eyers of baby-words glow like a fever

Ah, as fatal soft birds sing no more, then sand

will certainly send grey thunder to lost England

dusted gassy canoers get sucked from islands

La la, a vaulted ram gets milked

La la, assaulters, scrammed, uses sea-slams

to harness mates with bad silks

and we get abused by angels where rilks

get happily hanged by ravers and air-lips

and deifiers of chickens slave closed hips

and weevillers use family dust

to bury weavers aside laddies whose hands

grow, just like evil growth grows.

ah, a nuclear foam-hammer hits bods with

riveners of blather-boys

ah, a nuclear stone-stabber rips bods with

written writhers

although saint peter ain’t real, heaven’s doors

will surely sacrifice bells to wards

and a painter in a cloud reads about moors

and northerly riding yorkshire horde

come stabbing bones around ilkley?

dusted grassy canoers get fucked when drowned

and ancient lakes, split, get mucked

with swirling canals

and a loch in a stream dazzles camels as

old lost townsmen

cry forevermore

ah, confectioned bummer wine drinks glass

ah, defectioned summer swine

serve holy birds to riddler’s wine; and masts

carve-raise blue sails from jammy jack-masks

these widening mind-words sky-write for dusk

these crying wet mind-words

blossom into debt as crawling snake swerves

across erectioners

ah, nippy blood nipplers raid kites as nerds

dream of porno-england

ah, clitty-blood-pickers raise pints to verves

and a city in a crashed lift

loosens lady mess from crazy cavvy nerves

and a bath at sea

uses soap for tea; and idlers sidle for curd

Oh

*

the ideal ogler of this lonely moon has to extemporise

ashen riders

o evil ogres, slammed, wave arrows at closed cryers

and an eagle-motor uses its eyries for loaved liars

o ideal oglers of this lonely room have to kill tiles

these widening mind-worlds sky-write for babby

these sidling heart-worlds sky-write for daddies

and a motile motel drags hands across daisies when

ideal hissing hustlers

dream about late evening

the ideal oglers of this lonely gas-room has to extemporise

waxen mad fingers

and long female fires use sparks for fondlers

and, oo, when king-coned queenies abuse car-robbers

then radiophonic sadness

comes sundering boats with sweet madness

these are our widening days when we speak to rainbows

these are our slithering mallard days

O, as woollen brainstems get screwed, then bolognese

may well scatter bones across porn hatchers

these whirling disgraceful words give head to butchers

these whirring pinioned words

grow just like evil growth grows: La, buddy-lechers

loop de fast loop where angels flow

away, away, away..

*

these are our mallard days: these are the birds in graves

o, when chanters chant, then fablers under curd slay

a breaker of a nut with

drinking demons sea; and alarming clock-men stave

an naked occident with petrol pride

and a splayer of plait-pits drive starfire under tithes

and, once upon an english mind, darters inside tides

come spar-whaling a shouter of true men and de cock,

and we shall be the shouters of the rocked

these are our mallard days: these are the words sex

abuses; and a bastard binded tree

cornices old king lear from earrings and dead T Rex

and, loaved, sparklers, poem-found, dresses teas

with rubicund anorexic ponchos,

and a bed at sea

gets drowned by wee; and a splitter of kecks heave

fast thick hands from collonaded evil child-seed

o these whirling disgraceful words give heads to a

bludgeoner of a caker; Oh, woollen kids use Mars to

serenade plastic plumes with naked weathercharts;

and god comes easily to Banquo

and gob comes dizzily to sad mallows; and hearts

get scattered across daddy

and, la la, a martian piggy buddy rocks swift darts

and, la la, we may dine in the radio dark

and, la la, we may dift from skin when closed marks

dress a draker of a foresaker in blinded red-parks

these are our mallard days: these are the brief gals

and brief girls sally clays with buggy medals as hills

get walloped just like a fatal asexual whipping pony

and, la la, pony tails drink to statue-sails

and, o-la, as timers split in two, then loud Wales

must come back home where music is delayed

Uh

*

oo as mad magnesium rotors spin the quartered hour

then madam potassium, baited, may well devour

the meddlers of suns and stars,- and a cakered flower

grows as she falls

and a baker of shawls dam necks with grey halls,

and a scanner on a hill eats toffee under cold drawl

and, man-miked, a rat eats bodies

and, hand-spiked, a cat eats birdies from stalled

chapeline mad god-fathers

and as mad magnesium rotors spin the slaughtered hour

then madam macadam’s heart-motor

has to caress tar; Oh, a driver of coaters uses flour

then bastardisers of keen church-sales

come illegitimising a canny splitter of elder-veils

oo as a magazine in some blue plaits drone for dirt

then a mother to sexual husbandry will suffer skirt

and madam mamma Naples

will serve dudes to charts where torn clouds hurt

a dazzler of daffy dunes and navels

as microphonal fannies fend for diamate then

birchers of deniers slice crows from bitter hens

and, once de-crowned, sacred snows cut gems with

bedragglers of slain harp and modelling porn-kids

and we are the porn-kids

and we always move for the cut bits?

Uh

*

arrowers in smashed light shoot a curry mane

gallowers inside mad night shoot a hanger’s skein

o a dazer of eye-crabs delve taxis for easy pain

and, sodded by labs, cochlea in crash use veins

to extemporise sidlers with deafening blind-trains

arrowers in crashed life shoot an indian brain to

sacrifice dated fever-feathers to death’s blue snood

and massing modem-men

scatter a bled sun across cellular DVDs, and tubes

get shoved directly up god’s false nose

and, pealing, sapphires inside darjeeling will move

heated wet-blankets under wives whose power moves

rectal black flowers to superhuman darksome dudes

Eh.

*

disablers, stunned, drive push-bikes in red rain

dividers, gunned, cry about puss; and dead rain

must always gut the space we tread

and, oo, signal syphons abuse sweat-breads

and we have seen pylons come shedding rain

across bleeders

and, oo, disablers, lunged, drive piss-bikes inside

radiophonic sadness

and, paved with sexlessness, a drover of madness

extends blue pictures to milky mind-baptisms

and waivering wolverines spit pure dog-dust as

dolters of lost religions cause prayers to delve glass

oh a severer inside gardened claws

gets rampaged adown canine ferine feline dawgs,

and riders of bruised rain command god’s picture.

*

o i may well have to use my riddle-reel to extend a

blower of a mixture to tickly oatmeal; and blue stars

must murder soft vales

and, massed inside de dales, a naughty moor-car

must volley bilberries till dead

o i may well have to use my riddle-reel to extemporise

a nudist valley

o i may well have to abuse my riddle-wheel with

ashen oaks and tyburns and cold pines: vast pith

comes serenading vital suicides

ah, once upon a stripped mind, eyers yearn for cries

ah, once upon a ripped mind, cryers yearn for ties

and, o, all of god’s statues, penis-wiped, must arise

across battlers of penny chews

la la,- a hand in a box petrifies the deaf with rude

scarf-bitten floated blindness

there is a lost tale told about ravellers on roofs

there is a lost tale star-told

by false men and the cities under rolled gold

and, oo, where faces stop,

then wiveners of stasis cops a dummy gun with

outstretched jams that spread cherry-rock

and ideal fazers fade out from public lives as grids

come staring inside a hollowed sun;

and, spirit-scried, a moaner in a drum uses rigs

to fasten toilet maces to fascinated candle-guns

*

and the oars are raised: a fleeting glimpse of summer

comes sirening after bruised eating winter-minxes

and a bolter under tombs turn cocks into fixes: feathers

weep as porn-pigs palm-murder

a panting painted river; and rising riddle-reels use pleasure

to cause bum-juices to sail across defiled smiles

and pubby dive-juices cause drunk hens to drink pleasure

and the blenched oars get raised

and the blorted policers whose sad gob mouths no tears

come dripping for a crisscrossing ladener of salt-fears

these are our mallard days; O, a bejewelling burnt cavatina

lends dodgy drape-dazzlers to a fawned melt-moon

and these aged verse-plays

seasons doomy deniers with sodden baked verse-parades

and, lo, a madam on de stair

uses dreams for Eve and Adam as rifflers inside pure hair

cause hired combs to creep from out high windows.

as antlers float down deery fallow spheres, then men

break

and de beeches make no sound.

la……..

*

Copyright JDB 09/05/2021

*

AND WE WILL PUT LOVE’S HAIR IN BOWS AS WE RAM A DAISY DOWN

and we will put love’s hair in bows as we ram a daisy down

across a muscle-town

and we will put love’s hair in clothes

and we shall supper after dinners and fed clowns

ah a navelled liar, sundered, raises wrecks from pogues

and a naked reveller, thundered,

jostles across skinned ice

uh, a bedder, dimmed, countsdown to christs when rogues

seize epilepsy from grey fountains

and we will put love’s hair in bows as we ram a diary down

across a pistol-town

and we shall sermonise the wickedness of torn sides: sound

rocks a poet’s lungs

and, oo, as a painted fever dons quick-silver

then doomy deadeners, slivered, plug scissor-readers

and we will summon sickeners from navy blue watchers

and we will summon wipers from hot cold burners

and a bleeded guise

must blow arms wide where a candler leaps from eyes

and if at once maid alice

drops inside my time, then a weepy wynder will arise

from darters

Oh a focal fotus in a stream gets broiled under metal

Oh a fatal penis gets glans-gutted

and a fevering harness, scanned, drops rain aside a

medallion of blurred canny cheeses

and, la la, chicken creators shut veins within fleeces

uh

*

this fast crisscrossing mad earth gives dirt-head to strangers

o masked blitherers, sad, grasp legs

and a modem in a bad dream connects vice to a ledge

and a massive spine-attack

drivels after heart-beacons

la la, a kosher candler sinks birthdays into vines; O, dread

comes crashing through life’s frontdoor

and a lady leaper layers balms with whores

and, oo, as mazy leopards stir kids under wards then bread

wil get queasily succoured with ruby bed-spreads

and we will put cloves in a cat’s loved fur: and odes to lead

will most certainly feed decrials to nodes

and a puller of plumers bell-sells cathedrals to toads: legs

come delimiting pure fire

o a laden latent man-fire abuses dirt as skirted sea-pegs

scatter bones across dummy tyres

and, laden with loss, lenders of birds to pyres dreams of

pitters of pugs and sun-glossed

mad mental criers; and oafish eyers glow as faces rock

romantic granite statues with odlers of demure star-cock

*

a clamorous petrifier of the old and slain sail for herons

a treacherous evil flyer

sends dirt to street-sleep; and whining snakes use syphons

to crow across a mire

and a dangerous dream-child uses death for munitions

and a dabber inside a file comes shooting up: gold missions

lead dragoners to mind-style

and a dada of a flying red flower abolishes sex with ribbons

o once upon a sweet mind, jazzy dressers get stolen from

meat-seekers

under a lady moon, madam macadam seizes yanks from demons

underneath dunes, madam macadam sizes

a fat-bedded whisperer whose heated clothes taunt crisis

to come to a tawny milked sylph-streaker

*

the tilting cusp of a rainbow’s ebb seasons souls with dustbins

the splitting cusp of a lunar dredge

silences spires with death’s tread

and a naked boy-burn badges breasts with easy death

and, la la, mentalis sunders digitalis

and, ah-hah, digitalis walks on de necks of armageddon

the tilting cusp of a rainbow’s ledge seasons salt with skinned

lady mons; and a venereal masted Venus

scurries across a red renal februs penis

and, oo, seagulls and agers and colostomies

cheer for a choked cherryade

the sunrise of the dead is always rising

the moonrise all abed is always rising

the star-slams of sworn bread is dying after purses inside

a devil purse

Oh some bacon in the yard has come to deal wine to cursed

body lichen;

and eyers, vision-tossed, set fire to blinkers; Lo, my hearse

is hereby fed to damsels whose pearly tweezers pick

pinkers from berries and father erse

*

chewers of figgy cake sell binaries on market-stalls

feeders of daddy cake

swell for snapes; and a dizzy dragonfly use rakes to

sell swellers to human hake

and a torn tench at sea sinks cods under vermin and

raiders of life’s stench

snips a snapper from a female mind-bench;

and doomy deniers scrap after herons when watches

get fed to closed big-bands

chewers of figgy cake sell bunneries to chapel-drawl

feeders of mammy bake

swell for holy tundra; and a bed at sea uses crates to

sell bodifiers to burgeoners and steeled hooves:

O, once upon a mind, meddlers melt aside red crews

and bard jesus and His paphos cruise

dazzles bendy bagels with gunneries and nicked truths

*

as we float into our little town, defamers of locked nudes

come scrying at city lubes

as we gloat for our little town, inflamers dock a sky-screw

and a slicing wanderer

gets gandered under wintry summers

and a bleeder of a diced finger sends plummy pigs to

a soft space where the rain gets through

as we float into out little place, derangers of locking flues

come spiralling out to sea

as we soap mess down, derailers of cocking petrol-poos

abuse dirt vim; and a buzzy collonade rises under spewed

miraculous river-stains

as we float down an urban dream, then we devote gemstones

to a wishing sloane

O, once aside a mad moan, christ will raise his cellphones

and digitalise everything; and odes to stone drag for cranes

and easy briders bolt nests to killings

copyright jdb april 2021.