MUTE
is a sound
strumming thrumming
RAGE
RAGE
strumming thrumming
oblivious to love
SILENTLY
creates
destructive
scorched decay
BURNT
hearts
feed
non functional
output
amped
emotional
puke
poetic
monologues
back
through black hole
cones
WATT
a performance
illuminating
reminiscences
staged
as
post mortem
theatre
©bg 2017
dogs leap
from the curb
into the road
like a suicidal verb
like the hard as road
was a Crystal clear river
full of delectable fish
tasting of lamb liver
a car swerves
and fishtails
in its rearview mirror
doggies stand wagging tails
they don’t see
the times killer whales
starry-eyed teen couple
paw each other
oblivious to the World
to its carnage that lovers suffer
they push-pull and then nip kiss
in lovers code
before playfully leaping in bliss
into the hard road
like it was a safe meandering brook
to go skinny fucking dipping in
without so much as a second look
past the light of a leering moon
unaware of the fatalities caused
as two hearts collide in a swoon
in a rearview mirror it’ll look
like a scene from Very Sorry
where a lumbering farting lorry
collects
the lovable
the snuggable
clueless
Street mutts
sheesh what a mess
© bg 2013
Uno fell
Uno wasn’t quite yet dead
when Uno’s body hit the bed
whispering into the light
to someone out of their sight
Uno said
this is not a dying grovel
for i know my time is done
but i wanted to write a novel
bout a devil with a blue gun
Uno saw
an old light ,slightly detached
bags under their alien bulbous eyes
their blinking crazed gaze unmatched
by the lights faceless smiling disguise
Uno felt
guitar strings strumming ones lips
cigarettes burning ones toe tips
bags of salt weighing upon ones chest
nails scraping ones bones for their zest
Uno died
excruciatingly gradually and wearily
for uno had lived almost thirty one odd years
wishing one had only breathed momentarily
upon a world where love never adheres
pre the fall
Cupid feeling unappreciated and miffed
procured a mysterious little blue gun
and with a dead leaden stare bequeathed the gift
to an ungrateful loved one on the run
©bg 2017
evaporating
tears streak the hazy windows
now closed to fresh air
©bg 2017
that melancholy dagger
spins on my crown
which eye it’ll fall down
well i pay it no mind
as the beggars hustle by
i listen to their tumbling sighs
while the gods bleed prayers for me
while the gods plea
while the gods bleed prayers for me
i am no longer an oblation
no more chained by faith
i reside as a freed wraith
haunting a defaced sun-dial
as the beggars shuffle by
i absorb their de feet ed sighs
while the gods bleed prayers for me
while the gods plea
while the gods bleed prayers for me
I’m an old dusty vinyl skin
with a rusty bent needle
hanging out of my mind
stuck between my brows
wrinkled distressed tracks
as the beggars groove on by
i watch their bodies slump and sigh
while the gods bleed prayers for me
while the gods plea
while the gods bleed prayers for me
©bg2017
stay back from the cliff
fossils of view can’t you see
drop off the cliffs face
©bg 2017
candle smoked words writ
waxing from poets fingers
down to burnt out stubs
©bg 2017
resurrecting the trashcan bard 