tanka by a wanka 6 jeff bezos

bezos you old dog 
did laika see god today
bet your slaves saw red

did you crap in your space suit
you cannot afford a break

© by bg 2021
published a little late,but it was written i little early so balance and all that .🙂

grand old deceiver

something felt 
broken
flattened
maybe
the goddam earth
had been
folded
by the
grand old deceiver

had it been
shelved
filed
categorised
into
different boxes
decks
to be
reshuffled later
by the
grand old deceiver

will hearts
beat
clubs
will diamonds
wear out
spades
who nominates
who shuffles...
what happened
to the fifth
to the
permanent...
was it
slipped
up the
robed sleeve
of the
grand old deceiver

spite and malice
disguised
as
love thy neighbor
it's just a game
of
cat and mouse
that ends
in
misery
playing solitaire
in rwanda
drunk on ubuki
with
discarded cards
germany
once bent
then was
scratched and marked
by other
cheating
tribes/nations
before and after
germany's
wrangling hands
or
simply
sleight of hand
by the
grand old deceiver

© by bg 2021


twas the theme to sesame street

waking up every future day 
head in a silver cloud of pain
swallow my delinquent pills
watching rivers go down the drain

i farted in an empty square room
where reaper noses tuck you inn
i swear i tooted a tune of doom
twas the theme to sesame street

friends are just lemon used cars
junkyard frogs full of air croaking
better just to let them rust away
its their pistons they're stroking

sometimes i will hear their static
on my battery draining radio
sounds bagpipe tuning asthmatic
twas the theme to sesame street

i'm in the outhouse meditating
spinning bogg paper into rhyme
when i hear the doorbell ringing
my shit stinks guess i ate thyme

will the parlor flood doors let in light
will the trashcan get washed away
what was the devil fiddling all bright
twas the theme to sesame street

epitaph

just like big bird he had no flight
his imaginary fiends were real
from the playground he walked
knowing it was all just surreal

upon his throne he was dissolved
by a choir of angels gagging
what they sung has been solved
twas the theme to sesame street
twas the theme to sesame street

RIP

© by bg 2021

Sin ,Yeah….. Nah

why do we all need to bee 
Put in tacky boxes of sin
Can’t we just stick to right or wrong
While we drink our bottles of gin
Finding topics in a burning bin

True or false have got us lost
Up or down science can’t tell
There's a line but where do we cross
Jesus stood us up at the well
We all caught the devil when he fell

Stones are heavy when gathered
so we all throw around our shit
These days it's far to heavy
So it won’t go down as wit
But it would be golden moonlit

The elites wrote the books
To convince us to judge ourselves
Cause while we are navel gazing
They will burn our bookshelves
Colonialism makes us satan's elves

Long ago i believed in freedom
Now i know it’s but a sinfulled lie
Like all the other foolish words
bantered around to get people to die
To stop the falling of a gods sky

© by bg 2021

Ok , so, I was having a read around this morning , being a complete stud, jumping from one blogger's bed to another when this post lit a fuse and exploded . i mean i was just gonna post a comment but then went full leather poem on it .
Anyways link below to the cause of the creation of this poem .There were, are other causes. Too many to mention. This was just the killa 🙂

https://aktionkilla.wordpress.com/2021/07/07/comment-777/

father father quite contrary

father father quite contrary 
how does your colonised garden grow
with sweet blood and bones
and all hidden graves in a row
and all hidden graves in a row

father father quite contrary
how does your cities wallet grow
by others blood,sweat and tears
i read you reap what you sow
i read you reap what you sow

father father quite contrary
how does your congregation grow
why with corporate backed syrupy lies
and spin doctors whose halos don't glow
and spin doctors whose halos don't glow

father father quite contrary
how will your hollow grounds grow
now that the stolen babies can go home
and now on whose rock will you mount your scarecrow
and now on whose rock will you mount your scarecrow

©by bg 2021

over 90% of this poem is by whoever in the past wrote Mary Mary quite contrary

the sell out

as a fetus 
they threw me
into
the pits
of
bottomless despair
to be saved
till later
later tills
ring
my fetus dry
KA-CHING

a place
where there was no candy
and
no fucking rum
to soothe my tum
from
green crayon lipstick
kisses
sickness
that stained me blue

they the
OmniOminous
OmnibeneViolence
ones
with their prune
goose bumped skinned
taxidermy genitals
hanging
like dark stretched out clouds
overhead
ready to piss down
oil thicky
sticky juice
into
my lead lined
decanter
murmured
through
charred
teeth gritted smiles
their past sins
were now my
incinerating accounts
OWED
to justify bathing me
in their radiation
treatment
to cure
me of my
freewill
stupefied tumors
befouling my eyes

i stayed
unable to see
myself out
silently slugging out
an existence
by mining
the
maddening depths
of the
lead lined decanter
for all the
embalming fluid
the decanter caught
from the above
booming
incoherent babbling
indoctrinating
spittle
that slid down
to puddle
in the
evaporated
tear acid
deficits
i etched
before i lost my eyes

by and by
stripped
of my
amniotic blanket
by
priestly time's
wriggly maggot hands
and just
to feel warm
and must
as a beast
feel warm as ice
as a least
i would soak myself
into
the embalming fluid
to weigh myself down
to turn
my hard
driedfried
out fetus shell
into
angel dust
as
KA-CHING
i sold out
to a
higher dealing authoritative

© by bg 2021

cold turkey

on the abyss endless steppe 
i stood
watching my soul evaporate
as i breathe out
trying to warm
my cold cold hands

galloping past
a crow caws at me
from the back
of a wild pale horse
heading east
towards the river styx

i continue west
a pack of salivating wolves
orbiting
my cold turkey aura

i am unconcerned
the insulated hut
was claustrophobic
better
to be out in the wild
free of feeling lost
trying to act
civilised
or
as some
propagandist
call
religious

anyways
i could still see the abyss
through the huts
blood stained
macabre
glass windows
with the clawed tattered
thermal
hell fire red
curtains

i could still feel the abyss
sighing
through the floor cracks
whistling
through the keyhole
waiting
for the frozen tundra
to melt
within the
crematorium
before
the abyss
freezes over again
my crushed
ashes
absorbed
into the frozen tundra

better
to ignore the gods
numbered
pebbles
to walk the endless abyss
to allow
the soul to evaporate
far
far beyond the reach
of the
doctors
the
priest
and the
spiritual nets
that'll
take your gold teeth
to cradle you
in highly perishable
myths

i continue to walk
beyond
the river styx
only
breathing out
only
breathing out
so as not
to
inhale the gas
to choke
within
the gods
bricked retort

© by bg 2021

tanka by a wanka 3 drowning evolution

from the moons birds view 
earths feeble crop of green hair
is drowned by bald blue
i hear seaweed is healthy
mind warp to devolve whomans

© by bg 2021

tanka by a wanka 2 the elites trickle down effect

water licking toes 
gonna be drowned by high moon 
back to the pearl gates
a sewage pipe above spews 
busking outside man made hell 

© by bg 2021