poems

Russian roulette as a cure for depression

/ gorgeousgael / 2 Comments

 

 

RUSSIAN ROULETTE AS A CURE FOR DEPRESSION

 

‘The first time I pressed the trigger

I knew I was immortal’

‘I wished the feeling could last forever,

My jubilation was total’

 

‘I’m a five-timer’, he told the newcomer

Extending his gun-finger and closing it slow

Every lost life seemed etched on his forehead

Five down, one more to go

 

‘Boredom mostly’ and ‘it passes the time’

Were his excuses for such dramatic play.

‘And it turns the girls on too

In some extraordinary way’

 

‘The best cure for depression I know’

Handing the game to the next in line

Where the muzzle blew a hole between his eye and his ear

Death, too, passes the time

LOVE POEM FROM BONMAHON

/ gorgeousgael / 3 Comments

LOVE POEM FROM BONMAHON

God in his heaven never bettered this;
Never hit perfection more square-on.
Rugged cliffs lip the strand,
Opening to fields behind,
The Atlantic, white-layered,
Sweeping into the bay,
Its hurry washed-out
By the tug of sand, gently rising,
Before it.

A tangle of marram crowns the dunes,
Tousled, like windswept hair;
Whilst, on the slopes nearby,
A line of white cottages
Vie for prominence with the old church

Yet, it is the call of the waves
That steals most of the aces;
Those riderless white horses
Sweeping relentlessly in,
With their whispering lisps;
‘I love you, please don’t go,
I love you please don’t go’

And I, watching the ebb-tide dragging them back,
Silently mouthing in their wake;
‘She loves me, she loves me not,
She loves me, she loves me not…’

ODE TO GONZO MOMMA

/ gorgeousgael / Leave a comment

 

background-51

GONZO MOMMA
Too weird to live, too rare to die
I guess that’s a creed
Old Hunter would swear by
Though he would have a drink first
Or maybe three
Then try to figure out where
The action might be
Before smoking some ‘stuff’
‘Cos he knew plain whiskey and gin
Would never be enough.
Then, perhaps like you, he would
Upheave everything and pack
Screaming all the while;
You can kiss my ass
I ain’t never coming back

LOVE POEM FROM BONMAHON

/ gorgeousgael / 3 Comments

 

LOVE POEM FROM BONMAHON

 God in his heaven never bettered this;

Never hit perfection more square-on.

Rugged cliffs lip the strand,

Opening to fields behind,

The Atlantic, white-layered,

Sweeping into the bay,

Its hurry washed-out

By the tug of sand, gently rising,

Before it.

 

A tangle of marram crowns the dunes,

Tousled, like windswept hair;

Whilst, on the slopes nearby,

A line of white cottages

Vie for prominence with the old church

 

Yet, it is the call of the waves

That steals most of the aces;

Those riderless white horses

Sweeping relentlessly in,

With their whispering lisps;

‘I love you, please don’t go,

I love you please don’t go’

 

And I, watching the ebb-tide dragging them back,

Silently mouthing in their wake;

‘She loves me, she loves me not,

She loves me, she loves me not…’

 

 

 

THE UNIVERSE AS A HOLOGRAM PART TWO

/ gorgeousgael / Leave a comment

THE UNIVERSE AS A HOLOGRAM PART TWO
According to Einstein
Energy created the Universe.
I seem to have little of that these days
So my powers of creation are limited.
Should I try Vibrational Medicine?
Quantum Mechanics has the answers
Apparently.
Every cell, organ, arm and leg
Has an emergency frequency signature
Broadcasting whatever it needs
Moment by moment.
Now science is imitating nature
Creating a Holographic Universe
Where I can seemingly be in different locations
At the same time.
(a bit Doctor Who-ish, I know)
World-wide authentic native wisdom
Shares the sacred secret
In our understanding of the Quantum Hologram.
If it is not on the Quantum Hologram
It cannot manifest in the ‘real’ world
Quantum Hologram equals reality
And reality means
I am…
Something

AMERICAN FOOTBALL

/ gorgeousgael / Leave a comment

This poem by Harold Pinter is about the Gulf War. I think it is just as relevant today.

American Football by Harold Pinter
Hallelullah!
It works.
We blew the shit out of them.

We blew the shit right back up their own ass
And out their fucking ears.

It works.
We blew the shit out of them.
They suffocated in their own shit!

Hallelullah.
Praise the Lord for all good things.

We blew them into fucking shit.
They are eating it.

Praise the Lord for all good things.

We blew their balls into shards of dust,
Into shards of fucking dust.

We did it.

Now I want you to come over here and kiss me on the mouth.

DEFRAGGING THE SCANDISK

/ gorgeousgael / Leave a comment

Image result for DEFRAGGING SCANDISKS - PICTURES

DEFRAGGING THE SCANDISK

All this talk about the mathematical concept of infinity
As if it was a numbers game
Real numbers, that is
Not those sets of integers
Or Cardinalities
Favoured by the current crop of God-botherers
Lemniscate my arse
Stop going on and on and on
Infinity is not a number
When you’re gone, you’re fucking gone

HAROLD PINTER WAS AT THE ROYAL COURT TODAY

/ gorgeousgael / Leave a comment

I  I was at the Royal Court today and saw Harold Pinter

2  Oh yeah?

I  He spoke to me.

2  What did he say?

I  Asked me where the loo was.

2  No, he fucking didn’t.

I  You’re right, he didn’t.

2  He asked that American shitbag  Le Butt…Le Bute…Labute

I  How do you know?

2  He told me.

I  Who…Labute?

2..Yeah.

I  No, he didn’t.

2  You’re right, he didn’t.  He wasn’t even there. Fuck, I wasn’t even there.

DOING THE CONGA

/ gorgeousgael / 2 Comments

Image result for COWS DOING THE CONGA - PICTURES

DOING THE CONGA

The cows were in the fields again today,

Lowing softly

As they grazed their lives away.

What thoughts did they possess

As they chewed their grass so sweet;

Did they think about their comrades

That they did daily meet;

Or the colour of their skin

As they passed in the noonday sun;

With their patchwork blankets skin-tight

As they congaed past as one.