Where the Dead Men Point ~ Author Hugh Dysart

When I pass, God grins and winks,

sparks up a stogey, pours a stiff drink

Takes my remains, off an old, dusty shelf,

picks up His spade

 

God buries me Himself
No cross of ash, nor oil to anoint,

over grown plots, where the dead men point

No mothers mourn, no sense of loss,

no gospel choir, nor old rugged cross

 

No Janis, buried alive with the blues,

no church, no bells, no priest, nor pews

No sermon, no hymn, no stone, nor cross,

no widows in black, no veils, no loss

 

An old bent angel, drags my corpse to the grave,

no eulogies given, no soul to save

The Lord and angel toast one final round,

return my body to the cold, dark, ground
When I pass, God grins and winks,

sparks up a stogey, pours a stiff drink

Takes my remains off an old, dusty shelf,

picks up His spade
God will bury me himself

 

© Hugh Dysart

Torn Poems

 Excerpt from the book “Torn Poems”


302579_242748782435233_4426381_nAbout the Author

Hugh Dysart is a long-time musician, songwriter, poet and lyricist. Hugh has been playing blues and rock for almost fifty years and writing for fifteen. His greatest influences have always been music based, appreciating the genius of both the music and lyrics written by The Beatles, Led Zeppelin and Rolling Stones. It had has greatly influenced his writing of lyrics.

He has discovered a love of writing poetry and prose; a natural progression as a lyricist. He resides in Timmins, Ontario Canada, with his soul mate and is a father of two and a grandfather.

Visit Hugh’s Author Page At www.ctupublishinggroup.com/hugh-dysart.html



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1 reply

  1. Reblogged this on The Lyrical Journal and commented:
    an excerpt from Hugh Dysart’s wonderful book..

    Like

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