only this time i understood

as the sun goes down

the sink 

Along the oily pipe line

into the old west

so the rum rises

from under the sink

to wash the days

gunk away

 

inside

my head

i can hear loud

screaming

god

that deaf orangutan

thinks

i’m deaf

or

my demon

wings

were made

from elephant

ears

 

Deformed souls

whose people 

Ring bells

let’s face it

made

my

orangutan

Default deaf

 

I arranged

to meet death

within an abandoned

house

while watching

for the kettle

to boil

I felt sorry

for the church

it smelt

like an outhouse

where poo

go to fornicate

 

i observed

the sunset

from the altars

only one way

bullet proof

window

till darkness

took

my view

away

 

i conversed to death

in the back

of a hearse

as we drove

through

the falling

golden

rain

my orangutan

screamed

or

was that the earth

as the hearse

wheels

viciously peeled off

earths

grave gravity

persona

 

out lost

in the desert

tribal grains

of sand

gather

waiting

for the breakfast war

to resume

 

as death

waffles

waffled

on about his love

for

wallflowers

the hearse

penetrates

penetrated

the frigid

white light

of a worm tunnel

 

now we play

chicken

with a runaway

ghost train

my orangutan

screams

out from the rearview

mirror

“no one

can get to heaven

this way”

 

death

holds up

his blood stained

fony bony hands

causing

the ghost train

to disintegrate

into a chaos

of glass

memories

that tore

that tear

through me

a recyclable

storm

within a madman’s

unstirred

teapot

that smells

of drifting

diesel

exhaust plumes

 

as part of a eulogy

we sit

on burning

pyres

erected

within

the bowels

of the ghoulish

church

 

death

mourns with a yawn

I  smell

I smelt

on deaths

breath

the warmth and comfort

of fresh

dirt

 

within the churches

stigma

polished

stone floor

i can see

the swarming

monsters

of the abyss

death

reaches out

rescuing

my orangutan

from a fatal case

of narcissisticitis

 

on leaving

or entering

the church

the  dark

tripped

over the prehistoric

bag lady

with her

flax weaved

oven bags

full

to the brim

of prophesying

numskulls

the bag lady

of the immaculate

inception

sat still

as a stature

posing

exposed

for an artist

with her begging bowl

mimicking

a homeless

buddha

 

death

took from her bowl

the last

of her grains

casting

them into the clouds

they fell back to earth

as drops

of infinities

golden

rain

 

death

sat waiting

to be joined

within the hearse

i saw my orangutan

wandering lost

through a graveyard

smoking

that last cigarette

that first cigarette

i followed

swigging rum

from my bladder

till we came

to stand

before

a solitary jungle

tree

 

i stood

before the tree

watching

beleaf

grow

watching

my orangutan

climbing

high

into the trees

dark

clouded crown

that smells

that smelt

of drifting diesel

exhaust plumes

 

now

or then

or when

the hearse

back fired

my orangutan

fell

 

screaming

 

only this time

i understood

© bg 2013

i can’t fix it ….no i can’t

cause 
i’ve got rust in my bones 
a gangrene filled heart 
black holes in the echoes of my mind 
black holes are the vessels of my soul 
in the light of the moon 
where the silver spoons howl 
i gotta guard against the fanatical hermits 
doing the haka of my tongue 
i gotta bite of the hippy fire
 and the crackling songs sung 
But i can’t fix it

cause
i’ve got rust in my bones 
a gangrene filled heart 
black holes in the echoes of my mind 
black holes are the vessels of my soul 
my eyes see what the taniwha see 
a people colonized by industrial disease 
where the unemployed fill societies cracks 
with the smoke of weed
while chasing the golden egg 
of the moa job leads 
while the elite continue to do 
what they bloody well please 
But i can’t fix it

cause 
i’ve got rust in my bones 
a gangrene filled heart 
black holes in the echoes of my mind 
black holes are the vessels of my soul 
we claim progress by promoting 
terminators over humans 
cause machines can run 24/7
and no family sue when they breakdown 
so we climb back into our waka to flee 
but the cook already let out a long grey cloud sneeze 
that covered the globe  in towers of glass 
where money trees grow out the elite humans pot ass 
But i can’fix it

cause 
i’ve got rust in my bones 
a gangrene filled heart 
black holes in the echos of my mind 
black holes are the vessels of my soul 
But i can’t fix it

cause 
i’m dying with the economy 
from industrial disease

© bg 2013

The Hermits Wrath

the Hermit stood roughly point of center of the maze 
staring at the graffiti living on the gold wall 
then he looked down and kicked ash dust over the dead jays 
a recluse does not wish joy to hear the sound of flight

the maze wall slithered along shedding its old corn skin 
under bruised clouds that appeared on its virgin surface 
eve woke choking on the rotting flesh of her gods sin
to fully wake she  spat out the prince of darkness’s tail

Hermit saw eves assassins sun shadow kneel on the wall 
in the dangerous position of silent mourning prayer 
where hands so blessed formed a new poisoned dagger to befall 
the wild floating tentacle heads of eves questing spawn

their ghost fled into the wilderness of the blind midwife’s cave 
along the walls facial chiselled fault lines guided by tattooist 
who helped dreams to escape beyond the myopic watch makers grave 
to celebrate their duality of being both living and dying

the Hermit hearing in the distance their drums higher spirit 
began dance chanting “ash shalt thou return /ash shalt thou return”
his feet hit the womb blood black clay drawing out the worms vomit 
forming one drowning eye from their primeval amniotic fluids

the eyes vision poisoned by the Hermits sole alpha wrath bone
bleed into the cave as one forking river of misery 
from which the ghosts bathed in and drank like wine till worn into stone
they drifted back like volcanic ash clouds to  cover the drowned jays

© bg 2012

love is always questioned

my lady would kneel down and worship me in blue

she’d prostrate herself before me if i asked her to

she’d lay with me like a whore till she was sore

and my presence would be all the payment she’d require

but would she still wash my feet for me even if i wasn’t a god

would her body dance to my every whim for me even if i wasn’t a god

she sacrifices to me all her tears and smiles

i bless her with sunshine or rain

i send angels to recite to her the greatest love poems

the flowers of the world only open for her delights

yet i wonder if she would  wash my feet even if i were not a god

would her body dance to my every whim even if i wasnt a god

soon her virgin blood will bleed into my pure essence

yet questions of her devotion to me plaque my eternal being

so i must become a mere mortal and journey to her door

with ash and spit upon my clay feet just so i can know

 if she would wash my feet for me even if i wasn’t a god
 would her body dance to my every whim even if i wasn’t a god

©bg 2013

baby don’t follow me down this road to Destruction

i drew the death card so change is defiantly  coming 

down the road that for years has been under construction 

a roads whose future age I’ve been a summoning 

baby don’t follow me down this road to Destruction 

 

there ain’t no more cross roads on the way to Destruction 

no more pretty whore houses or blue piano  saloons 

just a bleak fading  landscape  barren of seduction 

excepting a  towns tower clock waiting on high noon 

 

i hide my heavy holster under my beaten heart 

i drew the death card so change is defiantly coming 

fallen like me know  the apocalypse is our  art 

a storm whose future age we’ve been a summoning 

 

i see noon demons waiting under that clock tower 

my will shall be done before time turns round and blinds me 

iron in my hand i’ll bring the hammer down this hour 

from this nobodaddy’s love i shall always be free 

 

just a bleak fading  landscape  barren of seduction

even here you’ll find the devil is in the detail  

dreams granulated for years have been under construction

to build  this dust road and Destructions clock towers veil  

 

i drew the death card so change is defiantly  coming 

down the road that for years has been under construction 

a roads whose future age I’ve been a summoning 

baby don’t follow me down this road to Destruction 

©bg 2013

killing dreams

Waking
With dreams still alive
Behind my open eyes

Don’t worry

or be jelly

One or two
Breaths of realities

Obnoxious air

 kills them dead

© bg 2014

I shall find security in my tomb

I shall find security in my tomb 

Bees will turn my skull into a hive

Instead of snot and tears

Honey oh sweet honey 

Shall runneth from my nose 

Shall runneth from my eyes 

With my lolling tongue 

I  shall forever  taste 

Honey oh sweet honey 

Was death the altered state of mind 

I’ve been hedonisticly searching for 

Across this globes

sticky icky

gloom smeared 

concrete jungles 

Before I awoke 

In this ancient tomb

Jesus  cowardly  deserted  

Do I really wish to follow 

To escape back 

Back into the turmoil of existence 

Into the delusional torment 

Of the gods banquets 

Bloody Tournaments fray

Where my flaming tongue 

Shall never be quenched

in the served polluted wine 

Where I shall stand 

A statue caste in time 

Gazing upon 

the baying crowds

Naked and Aroused 

Yet ever beyond 

self gratification 

Leaving my seed 

Trapped

Fermenting for an eternity 

In my marble balls 

No

No

 

It is far safer 

To remain in the tomb 

Where honey 

Oh sweet honey  

Runneth from my nose 

Runneth from my eyes

Sliding down my tongue

Full filling my being 

© bg 2015

homeless and broke

oh pure love ain’t like no liquor its never cheap

yet just the same it can leave you homeless and broke

that’s why i stalk you my lady like a drunk lost creep

 

i’m a bum in this here bunny romance town

i’ve got no don diego smouldering cigar

nor no burgundy black collar dressing gown

 

i flip crushed rusted bottle caps into the towns wishing well

i play broken country records on the merry go round

at night i sleep alone under the towns liberty bell

 

in this here romance town i’m the bum

the soles of my royal soot skin slippers

are made from spat out chewed habitrol gum

 

hearts not refuelled with special kisses soon run out of love

just as unwound gold pocket watches run out of time

all the answers i get is sunshine or rain from above

 

how long can a bum survive in this romance town

how long can a joker drown in a barrel of rum

bereft of his princess in her flowing bridal gown

 

this town is devoid of her beauty lady luck

bad omen for one digging in his pockets

full of burn holes from where cupids arrows struck

 

in this romance town i don’t want to be the bum

but it’s hard to escape the charms of the gutter

with soles of spat out chewed habitrol gum

© bg 2013

fossilized

as i stood in suspended animation
above my collapsing stone bridge 
that spanned two grave dark magnetic towers 
like a crumbling ocean ridge 
i saw your painted gloss faces
on your crystal totem book tower wall 
i saw your new graffiti ink
as gravity did dawn so i did fall 
i knew that ink was intended
for some other fried dope troll 
cause those hypnotizing mesmerizing
snake eyes are ever so damned droll 
your elite gangster rat goon torture squad
fed me info that did kill
in poisoned cider bottles
hand picked from a garden no troll could rule 
the juice exploded my scone matter 
like crumbs across the universes floors
flies darken my souls tea cup 
on whose syrup tears they sup 
now i conclude i shouldn’t have gone to battle
before I had hero suited up
still i tried grabbing in prayer to save me 
the dissolving chalk dust hands
of that mad twisted teacher time 
when from my bridge where that last heroic jump 
became a fall into the brine 
into that bottomless scrolling dead sea 
now here fate i lie immersed
in unmoving dirt humor 
experiencing a sudden dearth of god 
beneath the dried cracked Edens earth 
where once upon a spring breath i did plod

now i’m guessing no empathy taught you
to humanely euthanize a troll 
that fell from loves foolish heights like poo

fossilized 

© bg 2014

ETA 2

Batteries go flat 
I watch the world 

rumor
The world was once flat 
As flat as my duck pond 
A man floated forth 
Who rewound the world 
Into a bouncy  sticky ball

I am created anti clock 
Wise

Out off. The plug. Hole 
I popped like a cork 
I am a decoy duck 
Zappy Sappy 
be thy name 
So saith the duck 
Below the pond glass surface 
Where golden Pythagoras fish 
Triangulate regurgitated 
Fish tales

The deadly  world flows
currently  thru me 
Burrrrrrp

I feel nothing

point
I’m hollow inside

Like the fall zone 
Between heavens suicidal bridge
and the  mortal sewage pond 
The worlds stomach rumblings
sound empty 
To my. consumer. healing touch

I  floats on the lifeless pond 
Dumped Dead bodies sink 
Then they rise again 
According to the law
“The truth will always surface
And float free “
Sewage 
On the ponds reflective surface

I am  the virus carrier 
Of the savior 
I’m like an empty cross 
Digging on a desert dunes

crumbling crown 
For the ark. 
Seeking salvation 
For my sins 
For leading my flock
To slaughter

And the angels did trumpet 
Bang a bang bang 
And Fowl was their deed

Scientist search spaces infinities
for gods black box
Yet The sun glows orange at sunset

On my bill 
there is always a bottle of rum 
Floating heroically 
Into the finite of the nights blood

At. Sunrise. divine  revelations
I read bread crumbs
That fall like angels 
Bone ash milled flour
Crushed. By. The bakers hands

that. Giveth Us 
From the bridge above

Delirious
Rain

Delirious
rain

© bg 2014