Month: July 2016

Halloween night stand

bg the banishedman Tags: , , , , , , , 7 Comments

the witch in a pink mini
with predator claws for hands

With that anorexia look
draped over bones

we see walking runways
with dodo
foolish
expectations of flight

Cause they carry no fuel

asked me
“Are you seeing anyone”

i grunt,
” no I see no one !”

“and you”
i ask sarcastically
with a hint
Of rolling of eyes
Upwards for some
spiritual intervention

while my eye balls
Roll over
The curvature
Of her
Botox swollen
Candy
Red apple lips

“i’m between abortionists”
she whispers
like the blades of scissors

cutting
through
Umbilical
windpipes.

we flirt
in armoured
flying
battle pigs

setting fire
to the
fine drapery

that drape
like suits
in a closet
Over hung ghosts

For a capped crusader to don

in pious awe
we climax
our thoughts

our bodies
trembling
in solicitude

our celestial bodies coupling

through the black hole of lust.

my dog
head panting

her flower
head wilting

on the
grave
mound pillow

under which
the dominatrix
Tooth Fairy
Moonlights
in black latex

wearing
a bayonet
strap on

trades us
chocolate mints
for condoms

this wet dream
Reality
brings forth a monster

a
thinking creature
with most foul
armpit odour

His fur stained
by years
of
Hot
golden showers

on his
eye lids
Prison bars
tattoos
Hold in
His eyes

He steps
forward
to the
edge

of the stage

a
troubadour
about to
Sing

the mob stare up
into those eyes of captured love

then scream themselves to death

for deep
within
those eyes
they saw

the ex
ecutioner

so
i never
heard a word
of
what he
said.

its 4am in the morning

i’m running for the bus

i can hear the rattling
of
the
witches bones

chasing me
down
the streets

i’m in love, i’m in love
I rant ,I rave

My minds
swimming in a bath tub of razors
and
battery acid with a twist of lemon

but
when
she said
she loved me

Well
a junkie
knows
over time
her love
will never
satiate my
want

for we crave

An

omnipotent emotion

created
by 3
Awfully
Powerful

Cauldron
ingredients
Melted
Together

addictionloveseparation

Street name PAIN

so i
climbs
aboard

the big
red bus

destination
Flaming
Bloody hell

where my
seared heart
will be
thrown to
the harpies
Demanding

Gossip

Satisfaction

i hold out my ticket

like a tongue

for the conductor to punch.

© bg 2011

At 8

bg the banishedman Tags: , , , , , , , 20 Comments

at 8

the condor
can
no longer fly

8
on the rocking chair
forbids
any form of grieving desire

Bans/delays
any more flights
into suicidal heights
climaxing
in a fetish
desire

to

penetrate
the
earthquake

For now
the condor
must
humiliate
himself

like

all life’s
servants

castrating
themselves before
entering
the harem’s
Blinding allure

casting flight
into
an ocean wave
Goodbye

where

the eves
swim
in schools

bathing
in
menstrual
red lights

feeding
on the gen
ignorant
of their desire

to birth

a wanton myth

8
examines
the dead
paradox

What died first

the wind
or
the condor

8
crys
sitting
On
the earths
crippling
wheelchair

The demonic king

watching

as his whale
His temple
His ark

floats away
on an escaping
Jisim cloud
sarcastically
waving her
bootylicious
tail

With a fond
Memories
farewell

8
to warm
his abandoned soul
gathers
a special bone

from every clean demon

and every befouled angel

he builds
with their
wishbones
his bonfire
of

RAGE

anger

HATE

to create ASH

to make it rain ASH
TO
To bury
His
entrails

H
A
N
G
I
N
G

from
his
gutted
gut

As
diseased
roots
Begging
For
Heaven
Reaching
Hell
To feed

From the gluttonous sewer

clean
Pure
Will

8
thinks
from his toilet seat

the moons heroin halo
sure looks the same

from the gutter

as it does through the skylight

of his penthouses Toilet floor

8
reads
sheet music on the bog

While
playing
memories of jazz

on a
Flame brulee
Guitar

8
contemplates

Would he still drink
His poison
If
Frozen
Cubed
monkey
Shit
fell out of trees
And
Landed
With a
Plop
plop

sound
into his spirited drink

8
Drinking

learns
from his throne

people

on
the toilet

While
having coupulations
debated
with
prostitute
In/out
Cubicle
psychologists

but
the papers
don’t report that
Thinking
Is bloody toxic

reporters
It’s reported
are above
mentioning
that
kind
of info
on their
fragrant
Smudged
toilet paper

8
ate
from
his high chair

he

drunk
red wine
Sober

ate duck
Roasted

made
Brown bread
jokes

then

went protesting
to
the cinema
Dressed
In a
Placard suite

8
from his
Rocking chair

Watched

a story unfold
about
A Naive
soldiers enlistment

the soldier
dreams
of a separate entity

called a soul

because
his limit
is called a body

The film
has a predestined fate

The soldier
has orders from HQ

cross a stone bridge
that
spans across
Ignorance

capture the answer
At. All. Cost.

the soldier
senses a betrayal

The bridge may
Lead to
an orchard

but mayBE

he shouldn’t attack

to find
the nihilists
Behind him
With
The nayswaying
grey
Trunks
Are right

to be
shot
into pieces
by
their annihilating

bullets

To be
Crushed beneath
The migrating
pursuit/stampede
Of elephant herds
Craving
to set the
question
Free in
Oblivion fields

the soldier

blindly soldiers on

while his will
Written off
is left

behind to wilt

On a
Park bench
Dreaming of flight
While
Feeding
Liberated
Pigeons popcorn
Kernels

Outside a dark
Art houses
Facade

under a blanket of pungent smog

smelling of
rotten garlic
and mouldy
breakfast moth balls

the film

THE ENDED

at 8

© bg 2011