let’s have a séance,
to hear the emptiness
of what you have to proffer
beyond your christmas coloured lights
fried by prophets befouled stale pissed words
ablaze in darkroom bloody drunk wine .STOP.
masquerading as an apostles ghost
I’m a witness at the creation ball
where the first belle eve was skewered
with a spare barbecue rib
under a glass ceiling
where cuckold titans
dumps in my brooding vortex
use my particle memories
as clumping odourless cat litter
yet my raindog spirit sees paw prints. STOP.
as a tourist i dared to follow slaves
down alleyways paved in lost sandals
into lost troubadours caverns
where i imbibe rum libre’s
on a little planet
known as Malice
my last wake
when my vision
beholds Mary’ Blues
i smoke dem stale old
Camel cigarette butts
behind telegraph cross-shaped poles
where my second escape goes unseen
cause i’m just another salt pillar. STOP.
i went to the underground Colosseum
where i watched a nativity play.
the cast were sexless mannequins.
skipping mary’s METOO scene
to her cuckold husbands
son being born
to the coast,
the tickets cost
thirty years give or take
but I saved for my own
to Elysium’s potter fields
where i’ll lie in a delirium
till dawn when i’ll rise to walk naked. STOP.
a black stone
whose eyes were closed
whose tongue would not speak
above the spring Martyr’s tree
i dropped the rock on it’s head
the rock turned white hot as it fell
smashing like a rotten cuckoo’s egg
foul water cleansed the martyr’s sin .STOP.
brethrens need sistrens to swallow their seed
to spawn circumcised zombie poxed hordes
to drag the mountain through pillars
where virgin sistrens await
their fates METOO moment
neath their pavilion
a ego term
of self endearment,
to send you telegrams
my divine Nobodaddy
as your androcentric scriptures
caused this METOO apocalypse storm
during which all fathers should be judged.STOP
I first wrote this poem in 2010/2011 and published the poem on my Banishedman blog in 2011 in a different form and wording in some parts but not what i was saying, that sadly remains the same today.
I began rewriting this poem in 2018 but as you all know or dodn’t ,i’ve been rather side tracked with haiku’s and a novel which never seems to get closer to being finished.
This is my view of where the androcentric culture came from , from which the Metoo movement arose in response to the androcentric tyranny via the suffragette movement , then as womens liberation ,to the Metoo movement of today.
Kindest regards bg
“viva la Evolucion”