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Written by Lauren Beziers
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I sat on the flint wall
Under cherry blossom
Blue sky and gentle breeze
Ginger cat strolling
My glasses hit the ground
And Frank trod on them
The bin bag was torn open
Revealing yesterday's curry
Blackbird intrepid
Gull keenly screeching
Pigeons saving the West
And chicken tikka madras
Crystal Meth and Black Eyed Peas
Paul McCartney wading through mud
Cherry blossom quivers
In the mild caress of a benign wind
The blue door is painted well
But is rotting fast
Only it rots fast for years
And for two weeks under a beautiful pink parasol
Old fire guard and broken pots
Uncle Ben's burnt rice
And fried lice
Stirred with a pink petal suprise
Big pebbles from the beach
With monsters in permanent ink
And A4 lists of garage bands
With potential from a few years back
Humming a nonsensical tune
Under the blush canopy
With a mug of putrid green vile liquid
In my electric petal wonderland
Sunday morning with strong muscles
And a crazy coloured goat
I travel the flinty highway
To the seat under the cherry blossom
There I feel in touch with the three planes
The floor, the middle and the sky
Blistered feet and pudgy waist
With my head in the clouds of smog.
But through the haze
In the middle distance stands
A small creature, a human
My seven year-old son, Saint-Jeanne, in a toga
"Mama" he says soflty
"Look at the blossom of the cherry,
"It is beautiful"
And I hug him.
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Written by Lauren Beziers
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Alarm bells are ringing
The sweet smells of summer rain
Drip dripping on the crushed snail.
Ludzico points to the sky
An alien world is descending
Like a cloud of mustard gas on a poppy field.
Arthurian Legend looks down
From his bubble craft
Surveying his dirty new territory.
But one human finger, pointing with a wart
Can spin the other universe on its tip
And send it back to Point Black.
Ludzico sweats a cheesey sweat
Looking up for a return,
But all is quiet and all is calm.
Mangoroot and Bells whiskey
A tea for kings
In the shed, on the edge of time. |
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Written by Lauren Beziers
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Lingering around my nasal cavity
Threatening to seduce me
The invisible perfume
With intoxicating odour and mind bending allure.
The wash of the waves
In Crete splashed over my inner ear
Covering me in a spray
Of white horse sweat and creamy salt.
Now asleep and then awake
The gas flew me to Rio
Where I partook in gang football in a thong
With hot sand between my sparkling toes.
In a trice I appeared in court
With the fading judge unable to lift the gavel
The lawyers snored and the Jury crept away
And I sat prim and proper in my thick grey woollen skirt.
Mother, Father, rocking on painted waves
Drip dry animations with sea horses and seaweed
I call out "where are you"
They shout "none of your business !"
I wake and am sick
Make coffee I should not drink
Limp to the bedside cabinet for aspirin
And fall to the floor remembering.
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Written by Fester Bryan
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As I thought Mr Drew
Calm now
Do not follow through
Or at least take the time
To think again Mr Drew.
For can you not see ?
The meaning in the air?
T'is Mr Drew dear
Look here
T'is Mr Drew
The artful sneaky Mr Drew.
So now the Mr Drew
Do you want to go out and think on all this,
Or would you like to sit,
Sit in the chair I bought for my grandmother ?
Take your spindly legs off
Off to the supermarket
And fill your trolley
With the goods that you can purchase
In the aforementioned Supermarket.
For I understand that in a place
Such as the Supermarket, Mr Drew
One can purchase items of food in great quantity
Or small amounts depending
On the circumstances of ones arrival.
So in Paris or London
Brighton or Munich
One can enter, Mr Drew, the supermarket
And purchase items of food that are delightful to eat
So, where does this leave us
Mr Drew?
I think you know, do you not ?
I wish you to leave and ponder the thoughts that you know so well.
And then Mr Drew You can buy some foodstuffs at the local Supermarket
Some of which, no doubt, you will enjoy.
So be off, Mr Drew
Get away with you.
Be quick of mind and body
And leave me in peace, Mr Drew
For I have much to think about
While you are gone.
Such as "which way do I go to reach the opposite end of the spectrum ?"
And "Which way do I go to reach the underside of the other me that inhabits my other side"
And " When is the pastry cook not a pastry cook ?"
And "If I sleep for a quarter of a day, what do I do for the other three quarters, Mr Drew ?"
This I will ponder and chew
Mr Drew.
Chew on the bone of contention between me and you , Mr Drew
So go - be off and away,
Gallop into the sunset on your fine steed,
Get to that modern place,
The Great halls of food.
And get the food of your choice from the supermarket, Mr Drew
Be quick
For to be quick is to be clean and sharp
So be rapid in thought and in action.
All around will admire, Mr Drew
The speedy responses you can give to those small niggling problems
That crop up from time to time
In the course of the normal day.
Be away
Time to ponder
Eat your food
Once it is bought with
The hard earned cash
Mr Drew
Goodbye
And
Au revoir
Mr Drew
See you
Anon |
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Written by Fester Bryan
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Oldy worldy nicey nicey
Chocolate fudge and lovely oldy worldy butterscotch.
Oldy lady in her lacey,
Sherbet Lemons, humbugs and gobstoppers
Tizer nice and Corona
Two pence back on the bottle.
Ye olde shoppe then
On the toppe of the open toppe bussy,
To Devils dyke
To roll down the hill
Then home for curry, very nicey indeed.
Oldy worldy nicey nicey |
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