Long Clacked Poems

IT’S A MAD WORLD In a Lancashire Accent.

I went to the Confectioners today, there was a long queue outside, a metre apart, and it had started to rain. 
The assistant behind the counter had shiny...

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Dorothea, was that truly her name?
 Does it matter after all these years
 so long passed the heartache of a child's tears?

This tale remembered from a lifetime that unwinds
 once forgotten and lost without reason...

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You lay in the wooden cot,
a broken sparrow,
Crushed. Bony. Frail.
Hair once plumed gold,
greyed to clumped feathers
like ragged  trampled wings,
strawed out on the dank pillow.
Face once blushed pink plump,
Jolly kind of soft with life,
Sucked to...

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Old Jane Gallagher, 
she was fine, 
in that sun shining on an every-day-girl sort of way.
Giggling 
as her checkers clacked and she stacked up her kings, 
funny 
how young women enter men’s senses and take...

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I saw it in one of those chintzy antique shops.
I recalled that it was made for travelling musicians
that wanted to work out scores while not being overheard.

It was old and all wood. When I tapped...

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To crouch beside him in the rows,
Counting seeds beneath rainbows.
Three in each hole, I’d count with glows.
He let me help; his garden grows. 

To sell the pears he grew and picked.
Red wagon wheels click-click, clacked,...

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I was thirteen  the first time I pinned my eyes on her
She smelled of Italy, with peppermint breath that clung sweet 
each time she kissed me affectionately with love-caress    
She told...

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He saw it in one of those chintzy antique shops,
recalled that it was made for travelling musicians
that wanted to work out scores while not being overheard.

It was old and all wood. When he tapped the...

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Sleepily the night's rain and morning fog
Click-clacked upon leaf covered ground from the eaves
Coating things even roosters' monologue
Saturating it heavily so tight like basket weave

One rooster sounds like has laryngitis
Maybe he's young one who just...

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Seeking sight of another’s like for what thine own eyes like,
Perchance a Starbuck drink ye’ drunk, or a sun dunked up a hike.

For whom the post has pretended to be presented,
I surely no longer know,
Perhaps...

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When home computers made their way
Into our homes, things changed
And desks in dens or bedrooms
Were cleared off and rearranged.

The typewriter was certainly 
The first thing taken out,
Tossed or shelved inside a closet
By all those but...

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The Fall of the Onomatopoeian Empire

By Elton Camp

Onomatopoeia is a literary device
Appeal to the senses is quite nice

The comics often show us how
By using biff and bang and pow

The telephone loudly does ring
The cash register...

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My feet are stuck in the muck, cried Chuck the duck.
Sean the swan came to his rescue across the lawn,
Chuck, grab my wing, and we’ll swing into the spring!
Chuck used his beak, as chic feathers...

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