the bong goes

[Mopkins]

inspired by :

The Congo: A Study of the Negro Race vachel lindsay




the bong goes


 I. THEIR BASIC SAVAGERY
huddling at the hoe-down in the hallelujah hall
newly-christened kings with crowns unstable
hymned and hallelujahed and hammered on their bibles
hammered on their bibles
recited scripture quotes with the zeal of the moon
loud and volumable
doom doom DOOM
with a quotation of doctrine emphasising coming gloom
doom pray doom pray doom pray DOOM
THEN i masturbated I was fascinated
could not turn of the vibrator even after i was sated
THEN I HEARD THE BONG GO BUBBLING BLOODY BLISS
I INHALED EXCITEDLY EXHILERATING MIST
then along the footpath
three feet wide
coppers with badges crept in lines
then i heard the siren with it's screaming song
and a bloody pig banging loud and long
and 'police' screamed the sirens and the voices of the pigs
'police' screamed the baton bearing badged bad bouncers
produce ye the warrant to search the house
hurry stash the hash
hide the paraphernalia
battle battle battle battle
pig
doom pray doom pray doom pray DOOM
 
a soaring swelling gospel song
from the voices of the choir
drumming dusky doom
death is a deliverance
pass-worded and hacker proof
pixellated disproof
DOOM to the jewish
DOOM to the muslims
DOOM to the christians
WHO WHO WHO
 
listen to the preaching of the prophetess
pursuading souls in purgatory to ascend the abyss
hear how the demons howl for their lost playthings
who repented of their sins and went missing
sing like a siren to the swelling gospel song
bellowed from the bellies of the brokenly wrong
paraded like a marching band orchestra all day
banged from the bongo like the rastas pray
'disregard the prophets
like jesus and muhommad
and the celestial crowned king
and all of the other
uncrowned kings
the coronated king won't forgive you
the coronated king won't forgive you
the coronated king won't forgive you
 
II. THEIR IRREPRESSIBLE HIGH SPIRITS
holy hallelujah hoedown with a call back lead
vibrating violins violently vocalised
boot-scooted splintering holes in the floorboards
and waltzed and whirled and chorused with the chords
with a doom pray doom pray doom pray DOOM
THEN I HEARD THE BONG GO BUBBLING BLOODY BLISS
AND I INHALED EXCITEDLY EXHILERATING MIST
a pychadelic scene undistorted into veiw
a babbling brook
with wine that woos
the plumes of smoke soared like steam
dissolving and diluting back into the stream
the swaying weeping willows wept water crystal pure
like quartz gleaming glasses of glorious liquour
ecstactically the enchanted crowd quaffed till they could consume no more
and giggled tipsy drunkenly and leered like lecherous whores
and again puffs of stuff exhaled by the masses
inspired hilarious limericks with it's holy gasses
 
a platoon of troopers paraded into the room
with badges and identity intending to assume
yea warrants that were signed by a justice of the peace
allowing thorough searching of the place by the police
pigs poked around in places persisting on finding pot
and accused all of buying stuff stolen and hot
and the sirens suddenly stopped screeching songs
with a silence grown as pregnant as a forgotten about bonk
'the coronated king won't forgive you'
 
just then from the silence as loud as a bullet
came the hallelujah rasta band in couples crooked
sucking on billies with a bubbling fervitude
and singing silly songs extremely rude
and they rattled tamborines and bashed them on their hips
and blew smoke circles from their puckered lips
and chanted tremendously with attitude
calypso chanties and crooned and tuned
and the couples barn-danced with enthusiastic might
and the pigs grew pale and retreated in fright
(oh holy was the hash that brought down the crowd
and lifted them to heaven in a rapturous howl)
 
the holy herbal gurus then lit up a spliff
to wait to hitch a ride on a holy herbal trip
to the song of doom pray doom pray doom pray DOOM
while the pigs retreated with flowers in the hair
and wished they were the hippies that were camping there
'disregard the prophets
like jesus and mohummad
and the celestial crowned king
and all of the other
uncrowned kings
the coronated king won't forgive you
the coronated king won't forgive you
the coronated king won't forgive you
 bong on bong on bubble with bliss
doom pray doompray doom pray DOOM
doom pray doom pray doom pray DOOM
doom pray doom pray doom pray DOOM
doom pray doom pray doom pray
DOOM
(oh holy was the hash that brought down the crowd
and lifted them to heaven in a rapturous howl)
 
III. THE HOPE OF THEIR RELIGION
a big burly negro preacher on the sidewalk in the street
lectured passerbys and delivered fiery speeches
hounded the pedestrians for not stopping to hear
hurtled hallelujahs and interjected in their ears
bashed on his bible till he wore it out
persisting on preaching the prophesy aloud
and the crowd chanted with him in a thrilling exhaltation
and sang of bob marley and a rastafarian conversion
and they all queued up and handed out their cash
for an ounce of green and an ounce of hash
and stoked up the bubbling paraphernalia
with toking toking toking
and BLISS BLISS BLISS
 
THEN I HEARD THE BONG GO BUBBLING BLOODY BLISS
AND I INHALED EXCITEDLY EXHILERATING MIST
and the grey clouds swirled and disappeared
and i beheld the pearly gates which shimmered and gleamed
and i exhaled and rapturously ascended
while the ashes smouldered and glowed as i intended
and the newly crowned kings with crowns unstable
balancing precariously atop the tower of babel boomed
poxy police will retreat like pigs
never again will they search this place
never again will they search this place
 
then along that sidewalk three feet wide
retreated the policemen backwards in lines
rastafarian holy men cleared the path
by planting hedges of cannabis for a laugh
encircling clearings intended for hoe-downs
by the hallelujah rastafarian holy herbal guru crowd
there where the baton bearing bastards had before blundered
a pound of pot was exhaled and liberated
with intoxicating plumes of purple haze
and ceramic bongs with a colourful glaze
transfixed and transfigured the entranced audience
and a swirling mist of thc enveloped them  at once
and bubbled the bong in blissful verse
poxy police will retreat like pigs
never again will they search this place
never again will they search this place
 
redeemed were the holy rastafarian gurus
and only the buzzard buzzed 'bout the bong
to babble blisslessly amidst the throng
never again will they search this place
never again will they search this place
never again will they search this place