Poetry Blog by Philipos

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Cruel words remain in mind

festering away like Billy - Ho.

Hey Joe, I heard someone say.

Who's turn is it to pay? And this,

just before he was struck on the


bonce, being pronounced dead to

the world from quaffing hooch and

failing to place his ruddy hands

inside a sporran where his cash didn't

go forth but mightily multiplied itself

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Eyes flitting hither and thither

it settles on the bird feed box

tail waggling up and down as


it scans the landscape for any

intrusions from the hawks or

cats or larger avians before it


pecks away at the seeds to feed,

as suits red Robin's need, and so

as to stealthily reinvigorate itself 

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I never talk to the trees

but I empathise with their

predicaments, stuck out

there in the freezing cold 

like that, and losing their

leaves and things in given

static plots. But in the lower


ground unseen by human

eyes, surprises much abound

as Mother Nature goes to  work

preparing for those crowns of

glory which emerge in Spring,

to reawaken zinginess...

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What kind of information

does it transmit to the

brain, that super sense


of scent, which dogs have

knowing in advance of us

what lies ahead. And where,


for example, the cadevar decays

pit deep without intrusiveness

of bluebottles, or bouncing bugs

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After the speeding round of

bends and smells of smoking

tyres, came the bang of a high

impact crash, followed for a

seemingly pregnant pause of

silences. Then old Hee Haw

kicked off with the flashing of


mesmerising and intermittent 

howls, this followed by the snarl

of dogs, and the OMGs of lookers

on, as if in the aftermath of a bomb

only recently just d...

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Can it be - no surely not,

according to Attenborough's

predictions, we the mighty

human race, merely reduced

to the next mass extinction of

a kind found only in fossilized

forms washed up, or blocking


clogged up drains, with a guy

from an unknown planet in the Sky

spouting 'Here lies another humanoid 

cloyed with detritous of various kinds

and encrusted r...

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To be as warm as this

under the current wintry

breath, when snow lays

densely packed outside

the garden shacks we

call 'The Shed' what joys

this solitude has brought


to gardeners now and then

who switch the pen and use

instead the trowels to prettify

their plots and in this solitude

without air borne bees to drone

and hum sweet melodies, quitting


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Spottier than now, they

formed up on parade in

those days when discipline

was tough - buffing their

boots in the barrack rooms

under scrutiny of the junior

NCO - who strutted up and

down frowning at us pimply

types as we spruced our kit

and the junior NCO hooting


away at us - before we were

rifted onto the barrack square

hair clipped short and khaki


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They sit there yellowing

as if trying to hide away,

clinging to our secrets

from the past - but try

not to be aghast if you

happen to be revisiting

them, and find the odd

clue about the forgotten

things you used to do, or

special birthday cards sent

from a parent when still alive

of course, and when you ran

around the local fields and


squealed as ki...

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If the sky is unfathomable

in its entirety, and we are

the ones looking up at it

barely understanding how


to figure it out - why would

we be so lost without it in our

sight if perma-fog besmirched

our heavenly view of radience

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They forecast heavy snow today

yet in the wider scheme of things

it isn't too bad. It falls in smaller

driplets from the heavens. This

means the buses will be fewer

in between  - although this year

there is the usual lack of kidlike


merriment and cheer, due to the

restrictions on our citizens, and

usual exuberance of tiny tots, who

dash past down the road to...

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Decorators don't come here -

not into the bowels of the earth,

more than their life's worth, I

heard one say - seen some


strange sites though I imagined

a Musk rat muse - sightless they

inside tunnels all day long, and

the pong, better moving to Hong


Kong, perhaps as stowaways

a whiffy one implied - splat, splat.

What in Dickens name was that?

Make s...

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A long term friend sends

me emails on most days

one of them depicted a

Safari group confronted

in their vehicle by a group


of passing elephants, of

various size including the

toddler types. A roaring

bull approaches the jeep

and baring his behind, he


poops his innards on the

bonnet, before trumpeting

away. I can't think of a word

to rhyme with ...

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This morning, Frost on

our roof tops under a

light blue sky. Pidgeons

and some other feathered

amigos don't seem to mind

they are dead set on rooting

out the Hawthorne berries


and other nutrition hoping,

(if wild life can think that way)

that today will bring them a

burst of sustenance which

helps them remain upright on

wintry trees with pecker's up,


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There are plenty more

up in our Ionosphere

of thoughts - the mind

perambulating again as

if pulled in a million ways.


The days I like best are

furlough days when rest

kicks in and off comes the

suit, and I chill, hoping that

the draining journey on the


bus to town, and then those

half empty commuter carriages

will get me to the place I want to


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Dark as eeriness the night

yet, not contrived the text,

out in the bush the strident

screams - as hyenas came


to finish off the Kudu feast,

poor creature still alive. How

do the herds survive - picked

off in the gloaming of a bush?

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Water is a valued friend

when yomping through our

deserts of the world - how


curious then, when in our

given hemisphere it should

flood the roads or moors.


Such raging storms - having

callers ring 999, to plead in

their emergent diversities

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Now that  the sacred citadel has

been stormed and democracy

almost shaken to the core - what

will become of him just as Biden

takes the corridors of power, and

wrests it from a glowering Trump


who argues all misfortunes of the

world have been laid outside his

door and treated him appallingly

yet in a wider thought, optimism soars

as democracy restores, Phoen...

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How do they speak of us

these bulletins from the

banks, depicting all of our

privacies where payments

are concerned, us garnering


our daily bread and various

commodities, as unseen eyes

probe for a chink of light into

our hidden lives, of whom we

choose to pay: Day in, Day out

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Our Word Smith

who lives in Devon

give us this hour our

daily blog, that we may

leap frog all adversities,


restraining uncertainties,

or perversities - oh, and

with the greatest respect,

help me to avoid bumping

into scammers with texts


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An outer coat caked in

a flurry of teeming rain.

Orders barked by a guy

who appears the owner

of it - the fretful pooch

gives off it's worried yaps


during gaps of solitude.

The dude knows a Beak

won't put him away on a

sentencing day at court

whenever that will be - at

the moment he's free from


consequences of his random

pecadillos - tonight he...

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Waft away you swaying branches

on the trees, signalling abatedness.

What is your pitch today may I ask?

Before I set in train my retinue of

thoughts, which are snagged like

trapped tissues in the Briar twigs

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It is strange, especially as i live

a solitary life, how fulfilled I often

feel, reaching out to the wider world

with just my electronic pen. These

days I never need to board a plane

to see the world and all that in there

is, I get my thrills from pootling into


town, and people watching as I down

my welcome Latte and a baguette

from Greggs, observing the curren...

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They say this Spray

keeps bugs at bay,

but as to the veracity

of it, I truly cannot say

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I am aiming to be a good citizen

trying to understand and comply

with all the rules - they change


of course from time to time, but

like everyone else there are the

anxieties and 'What ifs' about me


travelling on the bus - now that

passenger numbers swell and

school kids fill previously empty


space - looking me up and down,

me an older man, trying t...

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They have been around a long time

these guys with Armadillo scales, as

old as the hills some claim these

ageless Pangolins appear to be.


But it is that rarity that sucks away

at their future survival rates when

spirited off to distant lands for the

Muti medicines of ancient folk law.


And there is a bigger price needing to

be paid in terms of humanity. It s...

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After the rain, I saw it clear

as day - a mirror image of

myself in a puddle, looking


strained and quizzical at all

the serenity nature bestows

upon our world in spite of


periodic episodes when our

drains are blocked and we

get into pickles about trivia  

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Aspiring teenagers then

when Dad was out, we'd

play his gramophone on

the hedged front lawn and

followed the rotations of


his prized collection with

our eyes until the drowse

began like a light suddenly

switched off, only to awake

and find a gooey mess


as residue and the stylus

sratching away and we all

wondering about the price

we'd have to pa...

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What does it see through

swivel eyes the scale skinned

frog, before lassooing its prey?


Does it gain a whiff of something

good as froggie taste buds go?

Or does the motion trigger a response? 

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Inside the old can tank

was another tin, swollen

and bloated by the desert

heat, unearthed by a passing

Bedouin having a root about.


An old photograph too was

found, all sepia and brown,

barely recognisable because

of the sweltering heat. A camel

skeleton near by, told of the


changing desert moods and

fortitudes of war, as whiffs of

Kerosene was f...

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It is the absence of their

charm, alarming in a way

those church bell chimes

which boomed across our 

villages and towns. Some

claimed they were too loud

for those who liked a lie in


on their day of rest, as others

felt a sense of reassurance

at its best. As to the truth of

it nobody seems to know or

care two hoots these days

although the whiff of ince...

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They called it rifting then

up and down the barrack

square they chased us there

and back again, mere recruits


hotter than the beating sun,

but some were far worse off

than us - men on punishment

parades, no shade for them as


up and down the sand hills their

ascent, gasping for dear breath,

gaining leverage to the top but

barely an inch away from deat...

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In the training grounds for 

teaching markmanship and

how to deal with noxious gas,

an unsuspected enemy had

lingered there unseen - nobody

could tell you where it had been


or how it came to pass until much

later on when the Asthma came to

roost on those with spluttering

coughs. Forget Kaleshnikovs

and stuttering guns - the truth

was far, far, simpler tha...

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