bargain bin wine

living on toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine 

down on the ground 

it’s hard, dark and cold 

the gold doesn’t shine 

pass the penthouse monuments 

to where the street beggars mine 

the cities clogged arteries  

where they’re 

living on toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine 

street preacher coughs and splutters 

tis better to give your debt 

to whores on crack

than  give it to evangelicals 

to save your petri dish souls 

from the hangman’s sack

after you’ve subsisted 

on dysfunctional last suppers  

of toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine 

its cold ,dark and hard 

telling time living in the sundials shadow 

drawing up dreams from an oil well

riding a unicycle with a rusted chain

hardly gives a performing puppet 

a chance to be a real human 

while living on toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine

seeing stitching scars  on zombies faces

from faith been sown across their eyes

politicians get society’s to trust fall

another generation will march to war

for peace or to save the world 

politicians will turn their crusades

politicians will turn their crusaders 

into an empty blood bath 

in Blood Baths  we raindog paddle 

subsisting on toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine

find their lies chiseled on tombstones 

the hard ,dark and cold stone chips 

feeding the starving homeless pigeons 

in the park where they fornicating flock 

to their saviours monumental stone feet

to hear the politician sing honey songs 

for change in exchange for their ultimate sacrifices

battleships swarm to their sirens ROCK  

to find their hard earned change

just paid for another doomsday 

MUSICAL             INTERLUDE  

marooned on the rock 

where the song changes scales 

not the empty soulless notes 

the survivors  do come to learn 

while they’re leftovers subsisting 

on toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine 

©bg 2019

When the guns reported live

I played my broken ten guitars

Underneath

A dark cobweb star

Still hoping all will see a thousand stars

High up in a trees crow nest

Underneath

Clouds that promise thunder   

I played my broken ten guitars

Underneath

A dark cobweb  star

Still hoping all will see a thousand stars

 

He was born with arms made for hugging

But he exchanged them for cold metal arms  

Then he went out mad to do some slugging

And the world sore how hate speech harms

 

When the guns reported back

Hate hate hate hate

When the guns reported back

Hate hate hate hate

and children’s bodies piled up high

and children’s bodies piled up high

 

The bullets lead with no loving questions

to fifty children they gave the kiss of death

Don’t blame us for this one man’s aggressions

Say politicians with the same foul breath

 

As the guns reporting  back

Hate hate hate hate

as the guns reporting back

Hate hate hate hate

while children’s bodies pile up high

while children’s bodies pile up high

 

I still play my broken ten guitars

Underneath

A dark cobweb star

Still hoping all will see a thousand stars

High up in a trees crows nest

Underneath

Clouds that promise thunder   

I still play my ten broken guitars

Still hoping all will see a thousand stars

©bg 2019

 

Image result for gunman in christchurch photos

 

hey folks the ten guitars lyrics by Engelbert Humperdinck that i  refer to in my poem are  highlighted in green.

 

the polka dotted blind quail

when i had just been born

the blind quail he did speak to me

crowning my bald soft head

he told me i was to be free

he told me i was to be free

 

In that room where the babies wail

I was taught the wisdom

Of

the polka dotted blind quail

Of

the polka dotted blind quail

 

I wondered free for many a year

With a polka dotted blind quail

Brooding on my feathered soft head  

so on the bleed he could be fed

All the world’s sad unending tales

All the world’s sad unending tales

 

I walked until my tongue was

a dried stump

Till i lay down on the banks of a river

Where diminished moon shadows

came to jump

Where diminished moon shadows

came to jump

 

I woke and the polka dotted blind quail

From my cursed bald head had sailed

And The wind that had left me cold and pale

Had left my bones also veiled

Had left my bones also veiled

 

In that room where the babies wail

I was taught the wisdom

Of  

the polka dotted blind quail

Of

the polka dotted blind quail

 

 

©bg 2019

Analogue and analog

Daddy bought me a black dog

Sent the mongrel to me in the mail

Should of shot him down on the farm

Or let me know

that dam black dog was chain mail

 

Guess my heart let him of the chain

Guess that dog wolfed down my heart

Thought that black dog would bury it safe

But i can feel

my heart burn every time that dog does fart

 

Yeah

daddy had a big black dog

Dredged up from the black bog

Yeah

Me and him would drink that black grog

choking back the hairs of that black dog

Yeah while

Listing to our futures dark monologue

Yeah while

Staring into the abyss ,rocking on a log

 

Daddy brought me a big black hearse

Sent the meat wagon over with a chauffeur

Should of filled it up before the horses left

Or let me know

My salvation we needed to defer

 

Guess i’m the stake that holds the chain

Guess i’m eclipsed by that black hole

Thought i could throw that hammer back

But i can feel

The caving in of my butthole

 

Yeah

daddy had a big black dog

Dredged up from the black bog

Yeah

Me and him would drink that black grog

choking back the hairs of that black dog

Yeah while

Listing to our futures dark monologue

Yeah while

Staring into the abyss ,rocking on a log

 

Daddy bought some land for me

Sent the title through the mail

he Should off known my life’s in flames

Or let me know

Not to drink an atomic cocktail

 

Guess the cross didn’t fall far from the tree

Guess darkness will soon fall over the land

Thought i’d just hang around for one more shadow 

But i can see

The writing on the wishing wells walls off sand  

 

Yeah

daddy had a big black dog

Dredged up from the black bog

Yeah

Me and him would drink that black grog

choking back the hairs of that black dog

Yeah while

Listing to our futures dark monologue

Yeah while

Staring into the abyss ,rocking on a log

Seeing our fates in Analogue and analog

 

©bg 2019