a grumpy gift: Terror Starts in Otiose

Piers of Duty and Gaze

The elephant of frost on the windows, honey looking out at the ice. Sitting down by the window, heart flooded with fire, honey looking out at the vastness of slush.

Anna Livia Plurabelle. Gustav Klimt. Here comes everybody, waiting for midnight at the Hollywood Bowl. Cheerio, holidaymaker

Reap a summer down with yellow vividness fizzing beyond good and evil. Beyond good and evil, I’m fixed. Fists clenched, loudly crunching my grunts and freely sawing my sighs.

Take a long cold look and tell me, tell me when it all goes wrong. And I’ll say “no, no, no, no. This won’t be”

The history of octopus and terrapins before the noon’s El Dorado, lessons in lemonade and noses, heading a daytime that’s luminous.

A coolly cruel and singly supreme generation of greedy imperialists sets around me, but I’m not scared. Because here am I, shying from absinthe on a terrace and…

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a grumpy gift: Spirit in Southside Park (Reprise)

Timeless Classics

*****

I’d dressed myself in black that day
From boots to jacket, skirt and hat
My little girl appropriate
For dirt the local playground at

It rested in a grassy swath
Which swelled into a little hill
And made a home for flowers, bees
While over all sweet sunshine spill

I sat me there upon the bench
And sent my child to play
Got out my pad and pen, my latest
Poem on the page to lay

When came from out behind the hill
A woman dressed in white
By hand holding a toddler
In frills and bows — a small delight

Her face was just the shade of ash
No shadow lingered there
And in a classic widow’s peak
Grew her dusky hair

Too young she seemed for even this
Very young child to be her own
Yet from her wise expression
Much trouble she’d already known

Her bearing…

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bonnet

mood

in fading fog and
famine,

shame hives heavy
this festered
head.

comfort’s bees,
bloom plump on
salty ball bits
pinched

from arm pit of
ash fruit-

it rains
still.

© Anthony Gorman 2019

image: https://pixabay.com/en/bees-swarm-insects-macro-many-276190/

image: https://pixabay.com/en/users/darksouls1-2189876/

 

 

 

a grumpy gift: Buttered Scones

Luna

I don’t know how they came up with it
they may argue about its serving
but it must have been a marvel
when flour and butter and sugar
were brought together in a combo

by the milk on the doorstep

Now coming out at four o clock
for the ladies at afternoon tea
the debate heats up on jam and cream
but a bit of southwest butter on those sultanas

is fine for a Lancashire lad like me

I’m a poet who hails from Salford , England.  Home to James Joule , LS Lowry and Humphrey Booth – and plenty of other scientists and artists.  These great men have provided me with lots of inspiration in my writing.  I also get inspiration from the countries i visit and events i volunteer at…currently part of the volunteer squad of the Imperial War Museum (North) where i help out in the galleries….you…

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a grumpy gift: Will Tomorrow Bring Sorrow — Life’s Reactions, Enduring Passions, Regrettable Actions

Do avoid the boisterous fool who’s blowing his own trumpet brass bogus tainted tongue unspoken truths are never done Break the bonds of broken promises shackling your dreams stillness causes stifle spewing those toxic byproducts of life In the wheezing whimpers of wishes that will never happen for the lies ruckus rumblings because you […]

via Will Tomorrow Bring Sorrow — Life’s Reactions, Enduring Passions, Regrettable Actions