The Persistence


“I saw the best minds of my generation
destroyed by madness, starving hysterical
naked, dragging themselves through
the negro streets at dawn
looking for an angry fix.” ~ Allen Ginsberg

The Persistence

The gleaning
seeking fallen fruit
after the harvesting
Neither sowing small
nor reaping big
The art
of just surviving
Street wise
to disguise
the festering fever
of hidden trauma
Is this life a test?
A trial by fire?

Free on bail
Evicted and ejected
Ice forming
upon neural pathways
of a brain inflicted
Ever and always
the only gain
with a taste for hell
hidden deep within
the well of “never tell”
Down a bottomless pit
the prisoner of pain
With but a bitter grain
of dissolving shelter
from the helter skelter
worshipped and injected
Words of hate
scrawled upon the wall
of a darkened cell
The poetry of chaos
and innocence lost
The tunnel
you’re digging
whatever you’ve been
you’ve been channeling
it is truly
gutter diving
in the company
of creatures crawling
Let’s get this over with
Get on with the hanging
The ancient tree
of a hungry melody
is impatiently waiting
that dance of death
in slow motion
And then let’s all get
puritanical as anything
without a godly reason
In a cold breeze
guilt is left swinging

Humanity broken
and begging for mercy
Becoming a byproduct
on a disassembly line
never ending
I smell the essence
of obsolescence
“A plus size dose, please
… to forget the regret
of my industrial disease.
Make it a double!”
In the poetry
of primal lust
and broken trust
in a sea of trouble
we all have
our cross to bear
But I guess
the overbearing
just get cross
with the persistence
of unforgiveness
In a fixed race
where only the obsequious
stand a chance
Not some free thinking
As Salvation’s Corp
feeds the hungry poor
an army of salivation
feeds the intravenous
and the delirious
all under the sway
of a Led Zeppelin pentecost
Dying to stoke the fire
of eternal desire
Hands of frost
upon a twin necked guitar
held firmly
in yesterday’s gravity
The user becomes the past
used and abused
whilst counting the cost
of love and loss
The marginalized
and the criminalized
a mental health commodity
to the criminal boss
empowered by the sin
of prohibition
Only the devil wins
in the game
of prohibiting ‘sins’
Corruption from the highest
to the lowest of places
And a multiple of disgraces
in the killing fields
of the pharmaceutical industry
Heavy duty spiritual poverty
on a high of corporate prosperity
And when it comes
to human charity
Image is the priority
Style without substance
Meanwhile …
You’re the picture of health
You’ve still got your wealth
… so just post another selfie
No one will ever see
the truth underneath

With minions scanning
my voter data base
and a bad case of ichyosis
the scrofulous
the censorious
and the divisively superfluous
all scamming my
democractic weakness
with trivia mysterious
There are children screaming
in the once holy lands
where the chemical agents
of tyranny are being unleashed
Upon ancient sands
the shadow of death rising
Like junk on the streets
… persistently pushing
Why do l feel
it is all part and parcel
of the one big deal?
Is the C.I.A administering?
Or is madness self medicating?
Empires of Earth broken
all chasing
the tail of the dragon
With that smell of sarin
in the napalm morning

Upon a rock
in outer space
constantly spinning
the existential grievance
most industrious
with unholy persistence
still clinging
to the sorcery of substance
Abusing the all consuming
and the wholly ravenous
The words hollow and tragic
with claims prophetic
only ringing true
within the fears cavernous
of receptive ears
A reckoning overdue
The fateful charismatic
plotting magic
with a star chart of fears
and a familiar psychotropic
dwelling in life’s basement

Faith broken
and misled
making the grade
as retro hippies
injest the false token
of a secret potion
The sorcery of a pharmacy
is no stairway to heaven
Chanting over
the books of crooks
with just a spoof of truth
whilst buying stuff
blessed in eternal plastic
Smoking the cash
Flowing the stash
Seeking the peace
from a frantic manic
gone in a puff
Playing a game of shame
riding the merry go round
of who’s to blame
Put your goodself
in the frame

You just gotta love ’em
all the same
For there is a plan
that is grand
with the gift of hope
in one’s open hand
A sound mind
with the Spirit in front
and behind
Justice … just in time
The season for reaping
in the light of reason
In the Spirit
a mighty wind
is roaring
With persistence tough
and a whole lotta love
to break the chains
Enough to tame
even the vain
and all initiates insane
The sum total
of your reality ethereal
To be in the Spirit
… soaring

If the quantum mechanic
can teach us anything
it’s that man’s logic
is of no use
in the understanding
of a universe
ever expanding
Forever confounding
the wise in their own eyes
What now?
For that matter
where exactly
is your dark matter
of substance material?

Seventy times seven
… the persistence
of forgiveness spiritual
A pierced hand
holding all things together
The healing
of hidden trauma
in an open door deal
The all in all
beyond the surreal
As cereal box science
tries to apply a dress code
to this existence
Beyond the excuse
and the abuse
of dark substance
without repentance
Don’t be recused
In the light of the Son
become one
with the total sum
With all persistence
and spirited resilience
we can truly be
the triumphant resistance
against an Empire of darkness

~ Words & Image:
david redpath © 2018

“All of God’s poets
become life’s experts.”
~ Aubrey’s Arch

57 thoughts on “The Persistence”

      1. Without polar opposites I guess we wouldn’t know good from bad. Maybe that’s why the concept of a heaven is lost on me. Keep the faith. I reckon you won’t run out of subject matter to write about any time soon.

        Liked by 2 people

  1. *Finger snaps//hand claps*
    Justice served?
    Hot trash.
    Colors clash?
    Teeth gnash.
    Mad dash
    For your cash-
    Our past
    Gift wrapped…
    To relax;
    Spring traps,
    Leg not clasped.
    Their masks:
    In our hands.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson,
      Heath Ledger, Prince …
      the list is endless.
      All cut down before their natural
      time by the synthetic pumping
      crime of the pharmaceutical
      Thanks for the comment, Walt.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Heavy duty spiritual poverty
    on a high of corporate prosperity…what a line…however long the poem…one is compelled to hang on for the ride…from one word to the next to the very end and then repeat…

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I am in awe of your poetry David. You express so much of what I think and feel, but cannot express myself. I wish I had a gift like yours. Anazing talent and insight. God bless you David.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Lol. God only knows what, but we will start with shocking pink socks and fleas! Yes, life’s wringer. We can take it either way can’t we! Up or down, and sometimes both ways at the same time. What I am certain of is that there is eternal life, because I have seen it when I nearly died. But I work through the Cross. It is all we have, when suffering comes. We can relate to that, but I hesitate to write about that, with so many different relugions in here, and each with its own unique value. I don’t want to offend or exclude anyone. And yet I set my own blog up as having the Cross central to my writing. Oh well…. lol. We will see! Or not see, as the case may be! Thankyou for your friendship David, and for your faitho

        Liked by 1 person

  4. Love the artwork and how you chanelled beat poetry. Your flow is magnificent, reading this was like you emptied a tunnel of horror, then redecorated it with your unique creations and concoctions. Enter at your own risk! Great work

    Liked by 1 person

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