Creation Blues

well I’m sitting down here on this park bench
throwing some crumbs of worldly wisdom
to my waiting flock of feral pigeons

when a gang of youths run through my faithfuls
shouting fucking pigeons and fucking vermin
they scatter, regroup, whilst I watch on

I got them Creation Blues man
Oh yes, I got them Creation Blues
Them Creation Blues have come for me

well they goose step off, my peace restored
until a fat boy and girl begin to toss
their fast food packaging upon the grass

a hooded figure dashes out into the open
thrusts a shiny blade into their bulging guts
packets of white powder falling from his pockets

I got them Creation Blues man
Oh yes, I got them Creation Blues
Them Creation Blues have come for me

well I’m sorry to say, all Hell was then let loose
wild people appearing from many dark corners
brandishing knives and fighting for the powder

I turn to see the trees being chainsawed to the ground
great plumes of smoke drifting across the park
dog barks, police sirens, gun shots, explosions

I got them Creation Blues man
Oh yes, I got them Creation Blues
Them Creation Blues have come for me

well it felt like this was the end of my world
oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph I cried
deliver me from this evil that I created

but the words were silent, my voice had died
no-one was listening
they thought I’d lied

I got them Creation Blues man
Oh yes, I got them Creation Blues
Them Creation Blues have come for me

 

7 thoughts on “Creation Blues

    • Halfway through writing this I came up with the title which meant I had to completely restructure the poem to justify it. I wouldn’t claim to know much about the blues but I did watch a very good documentary on John Lee Hooker recently. Boom boom boom boom . . .

      Liked by 1 person

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