I bought Bukowski
I bought Bukowski .. .
I bought Bukowski
I bought White Stripes
seven deaths on Lincolnshire roads
where I live
the rain still falling
on the window ledge outside
sexy as suck
I bought into Bukowski
I bought into Seamus Heaney too
my boots not made of leather, ardent
ardent just as you
I compare thee to a shoe
which fits around me, a fenny glove
I bought into the Charles Bukowski thing
and Shostakovich, Frederick Delius too
culture bomb
internecine implosion
the creative mind set free
laid out on vermillion pantyles
dappled, a splattered roof
not blind except
by reason of conformity
when owls and savants meet
another Lincolnshire Posy
Cultured Frederick D.
met the Aussie Percy Grainger
near Brigg Fair
in pre-war-one sun
before the world turned
in full circles since 1903
I travel across the East Fen
on a bicycle with spokes
that roads so full of cheese
of Stilton, of Maasdammer
upon this reclaimed land
so damn holey moley
the Dutch masters taught us
to stick fingers into holes
O’ my forefathers in clogs
I bought White Stripes
and Death of a Naturalist
to add to my august road
well-travelled
going nowhere
Dmitri S. walked a matted path
to prove he were a Russian
befriended Jewish folksongs
turns out he had much to lose
his friends were shot
family members murdered
creative minds analysed then herded
announced he was a communist
announced it far too late
I announced it in 1972
I wouldn’t have had I known
about Stalin’s ‘creative’ list
I bought Bukowski
and I bought Miles Davis too
a Touch of Blue
I’d bought into things before
I will again
my creative brain
both my pleasure and my pain
I bought into Miles Davis
Alicia Garza, Rosa Parks
Ralph Ellison
Langston Hughes
heroes every one
I bought into Charlie Bukowski
© edenbraytoday08.05.2021
edenbray ☢︎ - a BEAT POET 
BRITAIN HAS ITS BISCUITS
Britain Has Its Biscuits .. .
Alongside the apothecary of jars and potions
the baker’s biscuit designed to aid digestion
was accepted by the nation not bicarbonate
but by skill in appropriating diffused libations
In this regard it waits in line behind Rich Tea
as of the absorbent qualities of les bis-cuit
each regional recipe, an axiom of alchemy
that augments the modernism of our history
The character of style and taste preferred by
members of the ruling class, the Tea Biscuit
stirred in 17th century, t’was a York-shire treat
biscuit tale unwrapped t’was far from complete
Cornwall like a British daughter back in1886
began exporting its famous ‘fairings’ to order
wi’ added spice, an eastern sparkle they would travel far
across the globe, ‘gingernuts’ became a biscuit star
To celebrate the exploits of a revolutionary leader
we baked a ‘garibaldi’ – ‘dead fly’ sandwich, modelled
loosely on the eccles cake as seven years before
Guissepe visited our broken-biscuit isle in 1854
Early in the 20th century came custard creams and
bourbons, a touch of baroque with a chocolatto cloak
to steer us to Biscuitato Heaven with butter cream,
vanilla or cocoa powder, Victoriana met Mr Bojangle
This Island of Brittish Biscuit Makers creaks
many biscuits here wish to speak, have their say
double-baked and famous in their traditional way
the likes of Jaffa Cakes and Jammie Dodgers queue
They wait for their moment, a sight they are to see
lined up with purpose beside a nice cup of tea
O Britain roll your banner beat your drum, dip your t.bag
your moment for deciding is later than you think
At the behest of yon’ apothecary the nations roots
were laid amidst fair sweet potions for our potentate
like Kellogs flakes and Pepsi Cola the digestive biscuit
was created to sit on shelf twixt honey and molasses
Behind the highest spires of Britains pomp and fire
there stands a humble biscuit to whom we may retire
for while the people murmur and complain of much to do
there is loyal hobnob, sweet digestive to dunk in our brew
© edenbraytoday23.04, 2021
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