Category Archives: catherine crosswell

Catherine Wheel

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Feel the appeal of the
Catherine Wheel Meal
Cartwheel to then peel
a metre stretch of this reel
Ian Beale would conceal his love…
He would kneel,
freewheel with
a concealed Cockatiel
accompanied by
Lucille (a genteel seal)
She’ll be playing
Deal or No Deal on a
Steel glockenspiel

Just because something has your name on it…doesn’t mean you should have it for brekkie...🤔
It’s been a while since I wrote something vaguely poetical…

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Poetry Advent Calendar: Another Window Eight – Brush Pastry

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I knead

on the pavement
brushing pastry debris
silicon slender and red
knuckles grow raw
knot needed know more
grit spits shits
from a mouth
in your bed

About 10 metres up from the Spoon (the original window 8) on the Newtown Road in Malvern, this vivid pastry brush awaits its owner to reclaim it.

Poetry Advent Calendar: Window Four – 3 Bananas

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Worcester Road
Bananas Spooning
Comfortable Fruit
Comfortable maneuvering
Pass Brays with caution
mannequinned
Triple Slippage
Triple Skinned

This is day five of the found advent calendar, the rest have been hidden.
This window was found on The Worcester Road in Malvern just along from Brays

Them Rage

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Them can’t
Them hates that
Them shifts forward
Them shoves forward
Them’s not meant to shunt backwards
Them makes them shunt backwards
Them makes them twisted
Them knows them can
Them’s paying them to
Them’ll eat many mentoes in a mo
giving them a sugar headache
Them chews
Them never swallows
Them shan’t share
Them shan’t cry
Them should though
Them really should
Then them might feel a bit better

Them just can’t

Them hates that

 

 

 

Bizarre Poetry Gig #1

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(There have been others – but this is the first that I’m documenting)

 

The Indoor Gig in a Bookshop

Oh lovely open mic audience
Do take a 15 min break

Relax, stretch your legs
Go to the café
Buy several deluxe Scotch Eggs
while Lindsey & Catherine perform
Musical numbers and poetry
People will need to quiche up in the interval
You are the interlude to their faces full of gourmet food
It’s an Indoor Gig
Inside

Our set tends to be dust & filth
The organiser knows that
She’s seen us both before
We manically giggle as we are left to our own devices
as somewhere far far away in the building
Everyone is on a loo break
forking with carrot cake slices.
We sing to skewiff chairs and cardigans
and lonely unthumbed books
about Tits and Jeremy Clarkson
We might well wee ourselves
during this bizarre configuration
Even our accompanied guest has disappearred
to join the cafe locustation
No one would ever notice, applause
or smell
Our pools of mirth
Sinking through the bookshop carpet to the silent earth
So we continue our set in a sort of hysteria disco disorder
Witcherly creating our gig dissatisfaction spell…..
That finally finished off Borders.
(as they went bust soon after our appearance in Oxford)

 

 

one lady did suddenly appear at the end and shout Bravo!!  We’re not entirely sure
if she was a figment of our imagination or what we did indeed conjure up….

 

Spellings for a boy aged 6 (part 17)

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The Dream was always of a bigger

picture on the wall, showing the 
adventure of a
creature with a miserable
future. This suited his compliant
nature and we could often find and
catch him without a
stitch on, scrambling around the 
kitchen begging for scraps of cake
mixture.
‘Fetch!!’
we taunted
until 
he
woke 
up.

These could potentially be the last spellings for a boy aged 6. We will see.