Podsol by Mrs. Mkwekwe Mbogo

Untying silt weed root knots
shown the sun and giving way to plant pots,
got to stem the growth of earth.
Each hand a verdant spade,
ellipsid shadow the
elm flower can't evade.
Her cat can count to three.

Garden by Mrs. Mkwekwe Mbogo (Revised)

Took his bag on shoulder, wrench
up possessions fetched from behind the bench,
pence-worth, there since the fighting.
And that season went and
abandoned me for sand -
a lone, binned birthday card.
The rain sounded like crisps.

Garden by Mrs. Mkwekwe Mbogo - a semi-sudo....regardez line 6

Took his bag on shoulder, wrench
up possessions fetched from behind the bench,
pence-worth, there since the fighting.
And that season went and
abandoned me for sand,
grand sights of Vietnam.
The rain sounded like crisps.

Daw by Mrs. Mkwekwe Mbogo

Seeing the split fence snapped up
left of where that leather bird got catched up,
shut in a box firm-lidded,
our vicar startled by
'orrible wing and grey-
orange wood would not pray.
Denmark is sometimes dry.

Infrastructure by Mark Ham

Just bring yourself please Janet
It's no sweat it's not another planet
Travel by public transport
Under that big hot sun
Unzipped a cardigan
Uptown then down again
Spam folders fill too fast.

jon metz trapped by his boiler for three days by Ian McMichael

vacuum pipe dropped, his arm trapped
she was in north carolina, life sapped
happened to grasp a knife, cut
and hit nerves soon enough
a silent room, cut through
an arm, hanging, enough.
creases in a plaid shirt.

the new castle at night during a storm by Ian McMichael

the art of cleanliness, wax
seals, flowers and lutes, harsh window tax
excerpt: stones fill the gaps now
even at night the wind,
elegant breeze, finds odd
escarpements, silent end
listen, they won't get through.

traffic by Ian McMichael

I stayed in all day, drank tea
drank milk, drank juice, renewed a warranty
began to note shapes, shadows
each caught in their passing
etched against curtains, drag
each wide, gathered they sag
brown sky in brown water.

disporting men by Ian McMichael

crude jug with wide eyed men
beside its spout, a sea creature and then
rendered bending, lost face
as some stare at gables
and others at chimneys
all water soon stagnates
abhor these received alms.

the gossiping man's dancing dog by Ian McMichael

pulls, drags on the chain, marks walls
in one book he danced in northmen's dank halls
call him a circus dog, whipped
on three legs he hobbled
out, out, o abandoned
old joy, go gnaw hard rind
eyjafjallajokull.

Change the Rules

I have changed the rules. You do not need to include a reference to either an animal, a bodily function or a wildflower in the 'su'.

Copse by Eric Left

Copse

Ten deep breaths are marking time
Until the oaks the bluebells and the limes
Dim back into static

A passing grim intent
All light quietly spent
A silent continent
Dad failed again, I see.

returning from a short walk by Ian McMichael

returning from a short walk

a scented candle burns low
resting, sleeping, through daylight that dull glow
slowly fades, the scent remains
it is vanilla, spent
isolating this want
idle, the night at fault
cumulus, bracken, ice.

Rip hustle by Kelvin Lech

Rip hustle

Casino retail acid
reflux rewrites in a city flaccid
laced up and inept, o with
alarming speed we kiss
and eyeball bus lanes. yes
anchor all my day dreams:
boy drowned trying to save.

chinese sink holes by Ian McMichael

chinese sink holes

the first sink hole was sudden
it made sense what with all the lands flooding
another month of pissed rain
it could be solar flares
intense rays forming gaps
ignore our hollowness
william morris these walls.

mid night brunch by Ian McMichael

mid night brunch

you bark much worse than you bite
and your teeth sink into cheese every night
might we ever sleep in peace?
at four a.m. you start
attacking brie, duvet
all strewn with wax and toast
the first game drawn, so dull.

daschund of our seperation by Ian McMichael

dashund of our seperation

when last I saw that daschund
our night was paid for by the christmas fund
round after round of schnapps downed
it slept right through our songs
ignorant of our sins
inebriated bliss
how quickly maize crops fail.

Sudo Poetry

Here is the first Sudo Poetry blog. My intention is to present Sudo poetry on this blog and nothing else. Here are the rules of sudo poetry. Sudo as in Judo never Sue Do (a woman who may or may not exist).

7 lines.
First 3 lines are the 'su'.
They have a 7/10/7 syllable count.
The last syllable of lines 1 and 2 rhyme. That rhyme is loosely carried into the first syllable of line 3.
The 'su' must have some reference to either an animal or a bodily function or wildflower.

The 'do' consists of the next 4 lines.
They have a syllable count of 6/6/6/6.
There is no rhyming structure but one may be imposed on the poem by the author.
The first syllable of each of lines 4,5 and 6 must begin with the same vowel and conversely the last syllable of those lines must end with the same consonant.
The last line, line 7, must have nothing to do with the rest of the poem. If the poem is about Boris Johnson and David Cameron in their natural Eton habitat then the last line should be about, say, the American sit com Everybody Loves Raymond.

All poems will be presented by poets under pseudonyms...sudonyms...sudo-nyms.