Used Lover Blues

USED LOVER BLUES
(Mercy & Grace me please Ulysses)

Once I had a lover
Was it all that wrong?
She done me like a crime
against all reason and rhyme
But she knew how to play
my favourite song
There was a time It seemed
she would haunt my dreams
and the days were
just way too long
But tell me
what can you do
when you ain’t that strong?
Lord, I’m tired of paying
these dues …
them used lover blues
Her mythology . . .
all Greek to me
Was the pounding
on Chaos’s anvil
more than a mere mortal
could ever handle?

Back on the farm
she burnt down my barn
A flame by nature
Zelus’s Daughter by name
“God bless you”, she said
“I meant you no harm.”
Then stole my best horse
the one that wasn’t lame
The centre of attention
playing that winning
victim game
“I was just a slave
on his plantation!”
Her claim to fleeting fame?
Such a shame
since once
she dared to ride that horse
the one that was never tamed
But after shredding
my ageing portrait
she had me stretched
out on the canvas
of raging blame
Then hung up and framed
Those qualities l most admire
an open mind and an open heart
seem to have been extinguished
in a baptism of fire?

Pegasus now on the loose
from the depths of Hades
to the summit
of Mount Olympus
No satisfaction
in the getting of a given
A golden key
to a golden door
of a golden mansion
upon a golden shore
After running the course
with that Trojan horse
like a one eyed Cyclops
on steroids at the Olympics
she had me
repeatedly
golden fleeced

Titans in the pit
… moshing
The Sirens backing
a band of Myrmidons,
with Achilles in the lead
In an age
when all the rage
was Pagans gone cruising
Jason and a boat load
of three hundred
or so Spartans
partying on the Island
of Mykonos
(Where, believe it or not
the Centaurs are hot to trot)
get set for departing
Breaking out of the Aegean
This could end in glory
… or loss?
Argonauts brought to nought?
Drifting face down
to the bottom of the ocean?
Hercules hitching a ride
with Ulysses sailing
the ancient Mediterranean
Drifting
along the Spanish shore
In no particular hurry
where Salvador Dali
is painting
the fishermen
with Poseidon and Glaucus
tuna fishing
From Ithaca to Troy
the fleet of Aristotle Onassis
finally arriving
“He wouldn’t launch a thousand
ships for me!”
Jackie O. keeps muttering
Aristotle’s philosophical
response … “I know nothing”

The words of advice
from wise Ulysses
to young Achilles
on the day of the
Trojan landing
are as following;
“Achilles,
you always seem to be
in a hurry
to be somewhere else.
Take a deep breath,
be in the present,
and in the presence
of holy mindfulness.
Now go and play nice
with Hector and Paris.
And don’t go parading
and taking selfies
down the Champs Elysees.
Who do you think you are?
Ares, the god of war,
himself?!
And Keep away from Persia!
You know, Iraq and Iran,
and even Afghanistan.
They appreciate not
a Pagan Invasion
(no matter how stupid
or well meaning).
There’s a Persian Gulf
between you and them
of which you have little
understanding.
And Alexander of Macedonia
it would be great
if you too were listening.”

These words recorded
and carved into the marble
decorating the Parthenon.
Later stolen by
‘Screaming’ Lord Elgin,
and buried in the basement
of a British museum.
Giving rise
to the “Yassou Blues”
played with a Bouzouki
in true grecian style.
Perhaps we should all
take the time for a while
to read and heed
before launching a war
of mass destruction?

From Ithaca to Troy
and somehow
despite the Titans attacking
miraculously back again
(That’s what you do
when writing your own story
You portray yourself
the Hero True …Don’t you!?)
Forgetting all about Helen
And a pity about Achilles
It’s the sad pitts …really!
Thunderclap Achilles
and the Myrmidons
shall never return
to the Las Vegas Hilton

An Odyssey
from Mighty Aphrodite
to Miss Apple Pie
With the occasional detour
pursued by a Minotaur
along the rocky coast
of Classical Greek reality
All the while asking,
why should I even try
to search the endless sky
for where the heavens
may ever lie?
I just can’t tell since
I fell under the spell
of Nemesis’s daughter
Then left to rust
face down in the dust
Needs is a must
with a dying thirst
for a needle thrust
Whilst dying
for some living water

“Not for the meek!”
Searching for that
mystical coast of which
the Seers and Oracles speak
A whispering …
from Achille’s digital ghost
… “Download and unleash
your inner Greek
… For Ulysses
fair Atlantis
is within your reach!”

Beyond being crippled
poor and weak
from the doing of hard time
down deep
in Pandora’s Labyrinth
Where the thousand
to my left
and the ten thousand
to my right
all came to grief
In that place
without mercy or grace
Where death
is a sweet release
Despite being hobbled
weak and poor
in the delight of spite
she tied me
to her kitchen chair
then nailed
it to the floor
Let me tell ya
Momus’s Daughter
she is always wanting more!
There is no winning
not even a chance
of drawing even
with Eve
on the tattooed sleeve
of destruction
when that evangelic woman
is keeping the score

Indiscretion ~ Obsession
Within a delusion
of self justification
Dirty linen flapping
An ill wind blowing
as butter is melting
Dripping from the mouth
unforgiving
More the taking
More the talking
Less the giving
With a kiss
a tear and a sneer
It would seems
God only tells her
through the noise
of a bitter propeller
just what
she’s longing to hear?
Gazing dimly
into a mirror broken
Seeing only
a distorted reflection
Having the last word
Casting the first stone
when you’re all on your own
Like weaving a curse
Like pointing the bone

Aloof …the whole truth
still waiting to be born
You called it
a labour of love
I call it revenge porn
From way before the parting
love’s validation
forever missing
The violation
of a rose garden
never promised
yet by providence given
Did I fail
to beg her pardon
for the things
that never happened?

Only human
depleted and sore
Yet, like wet cement
in the mixer
always ready to pour
A seeker of truth
just looking to score
A mere human being
being held down
by a system of caste
Of who’s making?
Who is making
that fateful choice
like some feral host
Was the die first cast
from the Gates of Eden?
Was Man set up in a game
of ‘Fitness for Survival’?
Starring a cast of billions!
Strategically placed
right next
to the tree that be
the Knowledge of Good and Evil
Having plucked
Now left bereft
and toiling for that company
of Principality Power & Cable
Constructing them accursed
telephone towers of Babel

At the Hospice
near the Acropolis
the goddess Hestia
tends to the lepers
The head nurse
a voodoo doll
with the pins of past sins
tucked away in her purse
is praying for Prometheus
to deliver a burst
of her worst
Instant karma curse
The outcast
just like Icarus
falling from a clear blue sky
Where the blazing sun
is just too intense
Yet every new day
the whisper of a taste
Leaving the question
a lingering … Why?
That breath of life
that leaves you seeking more
Is there the potential
essential to be cast up?
Loyal to the right-royal core?
Like brave Ulysses
tied to the mast
over boiling seas
past the Sirens call
sailing Ithaca bound
to Penelope’s fair shore
Standing by her
through all her disease
“Ulysses … on your knees
If you please!
Your rusted wayward compass
gave me not
all three-sixty degrees!”

True love
should rise above
and see the good
the wood for the trees
I was told that the meek
would inherit
God’s green earth
But you’ve been playing
‘Hide and Seek’
since the day of my birth
Through all the trauma
of an epic Greek drama
Yet you gave me water
and a seed of faith
Every new day a choice
between life & death

Yes …
once I had a lover
who done me wrong
Like a crime
against space and time
lingering too long
where one just don’t belong
No amount
of self-justification
can wash clean
that lonely stain
Only seen in the light
of a crooked account
Her words
lacking true grace
spoken to blacken
my time and place
as if delivering
a sermon from the mount
All the while looking
to the heavens
for some kind of a sign
When the sign
by true example
has already been given
A sign
for these fickled times
The example explicit
to a pickled generation

Is it in Man’s potential
to be cast up
by a sovereign act of will?
Made from the dust
yet with more than a spark
of the truth substantial
A burning ember
of the substance spiritual
Yet more than double
the trouble
à la femme fatale
like them Olympian daughters
in the rush of a righteous
push ‘n’ shove
Rising above with Hope
Faith and Love
Like a bridge
over troubled waters
Like an ascending dove
that crucial lovin’ spoonful
mixin’ the fixin’
from heaven above
Merciful & graceful
forever grateful
Is Man’s glory
in the rising?
Not the falling?
Man … I’m no Angel!
As for me
I thank Christ
that He is good
Good at catching

Because …
once I had a lover
she done me wrong
Like a deep breath
in outer space
Forever
a spray to the face
of her ever lovin’ mace
That bitter embrace
without mercy or grace
held me captive
all night long
In the corner
of a memory fading
recollections
and reflections
of a long forgotten song
Playing still
even when the thrill
of living has all but gone
Was my cause ever lost
in a breath of frost
with her forever counting
the mounting cost?
For Heaven’s sake
(and not forgetting
about friend Hercules
so …For a heathen’s sake)
take a big step back
Away from those old
and cold coals
And please ditch
that king sized rake
It don’t make
for merry old souls
Did Lady Macbeth
leave behind
all human kindness
in pursuit
of her bloody goals?
“Screw your courage
to the sticking place
… when failure calls!”
Graciousness and mercy!
Is this a dagger
I see before me?
As Enyo decorates the walls
with the entrails
of soldiers fallen
at the Temple of Indiscretion
With Circe sniggering
…”Let that be a lesson!”
Does not augur well
for any poor fool
heading in that direction!
But be sure to bring
an offering for the
High Priestess’s invocation
“Direct Debit … Credit Card?”
“Not a Problem!”

For some time before
in a former life
in a previous century
in a world of crisis and war
feeling somewhat grunged
and sponged
I staggered off out the door
Like Ulysses
upon a cool breeze
fleeing all alone
With Penelope
always phoning it home
Forty years wandering
a wilderness foreign
Engaging with the enemy
Pursued
by the armies of Babylon
The Temple of Athena
just too far to see
My Bella
from across the sea
At the Oasis of Isis
I met Persephone,
Hades’ bride to be
She gave me a taste
of toxic waste
saying she had been waiting
waiting just for me
With the friends
of fair weather
to make me feel better
I couldn’t see
what was closing in on me
Phosphorus
in The Sky with Daimons
like falling stars
plunging into the open arms
of Ananke’s Daughter
As she turned my finest wine
into water
whilst seeking the big fix
and mixin’ the blast
Now all in the past

The best of times
yet the worst of crimes
following her star signs
With all creation revolving
around her fixed gaze
That slow dance
of a deep trance
flowing through
a night sky ablaze
My fellow travellers
and fair weather
soft shoe shufflers
… all trapped
in an endless maze
Subsistence …
Life of the spirit stolen
Held hostage In Styx’s clasp
Like a spell cast
in Medusa’s gaze
Caught in Nyx’s cold grasp
A black dog unleashed
by a pillar of salt
The words screeched
…”Let that be your lot”
Telling me to
always be grateful
whilst tucked in the toga
of a Herculean saga
full of pathos and drama

From the Oracle at Delphi
… “Know thyself”
As she knew me well
adding a warning
… “Nothing in excess!”
Since Monus’s Daughter
left nothing on the shelf
I had little choice
Are all things
working together?
Running on the fumes
of one good decision
Repercussions rippling
in every direction
Only a burning desire
and the Grand Designer
holding me together
with mercy and grace
A whisper to say …
“Don’t stay lost
in this dark place”

At midnight
without invitation
Prometheus pays Ulysses
a special visitation
upon Helios’s suggestion
From the heights
of Mount Olympus
where Ferrero Rochers
come from
to deliver a timely
crumb of wisdom;
“Brave Ulysses,  I’ve come
to shine an ever loving light
on your situation.
Fabled Atlantis
is not what you seek.
‘Atlantis’  was the Neolithic
European Minoan civilisation
of Crete, before a
catastrophic volcanic
eruption on the nearby
island of Santorini.
The ensuing Tsunami
assigned the Minoans
to history. Or should
I say, mythology?
In conclusion,
To Achilles’ digital ghost,
do not harken.
He who was brought down
by a bung tendon
since failing to
put his shoes on
before doing the Trojan!
Pay him no attention.
He was always a bit
of a grecian cretan.
And when it come
to the fair maidens,
Achilles was a bit of heel.
True paradise is so far
beyond that which even
us Titans dare to mention.”

Warming up at the
hot “Nite Spot”
‘The Butter Churn’
the headline act
Cream in a Greek Urn
(the original Jug Band)
starring Eric the Titan
on eclectic sitar
without amplification,
is belting out a storm
Bringing the Persian army
to their knees
as they perform
“Tales of Brave Ulysses”
(the unplugged version)
Meanwhile in the harbour
King Xerxes’ ships
at anchor burn
Demanding an encore
drowning sailors
chanting … “Layla”.
Those Persians
always wanting more
The resulting
carbon footprint
wider than a mile
lingered for years
As the beckoning smile
of a water nymph
behind a veil of tears

Yes . . .
once I had a lover
She done me wrong
In those low lands
where even to try
to get over
Zeus himself could use a
little help from his friends
To get beyond
them used lover blues
Yet only a black dog
dared to walk a mile
in my laceless
and graceless shoes
As the tough get rough
the weak best get strong
I see the sleek
just coasting along
I’m told that the meek
to the Good Shepherd belong
Arrogance of youth
Burden of truth
upon the Anvil of Chaos
seeking the living proof
Looking to the Cross
The awakening
Making that angelic choice
Yet with the experience
of full consequence
The Quality Redeeming
A portrait in the painting
Worldly eyes
cast down to the ground
never the seeing
above the spin
spiralling within
a galaxy ever expanding
Beyond the dreams
and visions
of Morpheus’s Daughter

Temporal the Temple
Carnal the bristle
Mortal the brush
To be a true mirror
a glimmer
of a reality much higher
A restored reflection
Forgiven … I have taken
Forsaken … I have given
the very shirt
from off my back
In that I’m no alien
So why on Planet Earth
the Martian attack?

The Doctor cursed
with time on his side
His regeneration quenched
with a celestial burst
And a thirst for
how, where, and when
Now getting the show
back on track
for an alien attack
and back again
With the Jester up next
looking around
the haunted show ground
for somewhere to stash
his stolen thorny crown
since the Circus left town
in a somewhat of a hurry
Yet some clown
still hanging around
with a house broken monkey
painting it all black
And yelling out to a crowd
crowded with the proud
“What did you expect?
A little respect?”
The congregation hissing
missing the mark
Hiding a collective frown
behind a mask of contrition
“I have given
… and had taken!”
An echo returning futile
Whilst the Church
of Gravy and Mace
reaches around
for another face
Things a bit less hostile
with the Doctor
here in outer space
The malingerer lingering
catching the dragon
and outmanoeuvring the Master
All whilst flying the Tardis
mercifully
with style and grace
Now no longer
caught in the crush
of a paradise rush
by the Banshee
of Prohibition
“Hoodoo that Taboo
that Yoodoo so swell?”
Mumbling and crouching over
the lifeless corpse of liberty
The sanity of vanity
swirling the plug hole
of a dark calamity
The Garnishee of Morality
with keyboard tapping
(We even need a law against
stupidity, apparently!)
The hammer swinging
on Chaos’s well beaten path
Every new day the choices
between life and death
Beware the Zealot
who would take away
you freedom to be wrong
with every breath
Perseverance in Christ
Always more to conquer
Breaking her spell from hell
that I was was under

As Achly’s
hard working daughter
seems to be forever
churning out
that poisoned butter
“What’ll you do
when you get lonely
and nobody is waiting
by your side?”
The one time
love child of the wild
having once dared to ride
the horse untamed
Now a cheer leader
for the mild
riding that highway
a mile wide
From the armchair
of morality
you can hear them
choosing a side
A scent lingering
like the stench of religion
infested with the yeast
of the Pharisees
“Just smells like
mean spirit to me …”
says wise Ulysses
whimsically
“That fragrance
stronger than Coco Cainé
or Black Opium Taboo
It really suits you!”
Looking quizzically
to the author of conceit
and the orphan of defeat
snatched
from the jaws of deceit

Beyond the battle
without the struggle
amid the rabble of survival
do I even exist?
Just another Billy Idol
rebel yelling for revival
after a life most
… Odysseus!
Yet with the persistence
of Christ
victory always knocking
at the door

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On Mount Olympus
a hasty summit
amongst some random Immortals
Not the fictional entities of
Harry Potter, but the fanciful
deities of a bygone era. An
opening statement from Demeter
the much revered Earth Mother;

“I tend the grasses,
the forests and fields.
With Helios and Apollo,
in a timeless dance of tide
and chance,
we witness the glory that
life reveals.
And we weep
at the tragic story
that hatred unveils.
The daily drama of trauma.
Lives of fear and torture.
But yet, resisting the beat
of Chaos’s hammer only serves
to make men stronger.
May Adam’s children
never go under.
Son or Daughter,
Sister and, or, Brother,
where love is true,
what does it matter?
If where you’re at
is far from happy?
When you know,
that you know,
you are not where
you are meant to be.
For you, who’s to say,
what isn’t,and what is.
It is meant for you
to be free!
Know thyself.
Don’t try to be someone else.
Dying to survive,
in a world of masks and lies.
Wise men, drugged up mules,
and drunken fools,
all making rules.
Filling my landfills
with broken souls.
When it comes to true love
from above,
resistance is useless.
They should all take a dip
and dive the cool waters,
in the pool of Salmakis ?
Rising to the surface
free to find truth,
and their own true bliss.
No longer to live, and die,
under the hateful glare
of somebody else.
Far above, where down below,
loveless banshees pry and hiss.
May Chronos,
by there own hatred,
turn them into dust.
Or then again, may they
be led to where love is a must,
with Athena as their guide.
On these matters Lords Helios,
Apollo, Poseidon, and I,
stand side by side.”

“Sun, Moon, and Sky.
Ocean wide …Mountain high!”
bellows Poseidon in agreement.
“A flood of tears and blood,
(not to mention plastic)
most tragic,
is disturbing my waters!”

At the summit,
all things now
up for discussion,
in a casual open forum.

“Wow, Demeter,” exclaims Zeus,
“I wasn’t expecting a lecture!
A sermon here on the mount!
But I see your point.
Those mortals
seem to be lacking
a degree of human decency
and mutual respect.
Some are decidedly
wound up a bit tight!
And Apollo, the absentee,
sends a sincere apology,
since he only comes out
at night.”

Electra, the bright spark,
now declaring,
“By Apollo, I’m no Virgo,
but what can we do about that
ridiculous Titan, Religulous,
and his banshee minions?
Of which there must be millions?
God only knows!? Oops!
Sorry your Royal Pantheonites.”

(Electra, only human,
attending as a guest speaker
at the Furies invitation.
Those ‘Infernal Goddesses’,
alway off on some
vengeful mission.)

“The trouble with divisive
religion”, Electra continues,
“is disproving and removing
the firmly held ancient ruins
and rubble from the stubble.”

“I don’t wish to speak ill
. . . but I will.”
Out from the corner of a shadow
comes Erebus preaching.
“This ‘Love’of which you speak,
is it not a sickness?”
“I wish not to sermonise,
but, can I get a witness?
As you all must know,
some things are simply against
the laws of nature, I surmise.
As if man, a lowly earth
bound creature, was to sail
off to the moon, or start
flying through the skies!
Those mortals should never
go against Queen Hera’s wishes.
And think of the children!
Urchins thrust into the most
unnatural of situations.
On this matter, I seem to be
more grounded than you,
Demeter!?
Defending these humans,
who be busy desecrating
your sacred land!
Exploiting the very ground
upon which they stand.
Who knows
where it will all end?
They think the Olympics
are just a game,
where everybody wears clothes
so they all look the same!
Perhaps in that dance,
with Apollo and Helios,
your Tuscan marbles were lost.
(If by chance,
you had night vision,
you’d see Erebus
grimace with derision)
All very romantic
but I find Apollo
to be devoid of life
and a bit of a lunatic!
And Helios,
you son of a fallen Titan,
Hyperion the overthrown,
your light may be on,
but no one is home!
Your rays may well reach
to the very edge of time.
But beyond there
is the Blackness,
and Helios,
that is all mine.
For you cannot see
in the light of day,
that love forbidden,
is clearly a crime.”

“Yes Erebus,
yours is the darkness!”
replies Eros,
giving his long locks
a dismissive toss,
“… and forbidding love
is truly the crime.”

“Erebus, you prefer
to demonize.
Most diaphanous
is your hypothesis!”
replies Helios,
“Love that does no harm
should be
nobody else’s business.
Who wrote the Book of Love?
Did you Erebus?
Have you read it,
seen it with your own eyes?
And yes,
I can see way past Apollo,
and your best friend, Pluto.
Far beyond
this creamy dreamy galaxy
and through all
the starry constellations.
I find life to be
a richly woven tapestry.
And the grandest of all
are these earthly creations!
An enlightened
and beautiful mind
is part and parcel
of the Grand Designer’s
heavenly intentions.
(Several gasps
and grunts of “Blasphemy!”)
Shining in true freedom
As reflections
of pure harmony.
With all the complexity
of shaken up biology,
psychology, even spirituality.
Where as you, Erebus,
in the darkness of simplicity,
blur and confuse,
in order to misuse and abuse.
Body, Soul, and Spirit,
should always be
in synchronicity.
Psyche, lovely lady,
do you not agree?“

“Spirit, Soul, and Body
… in balance!
I most certainly,
psychedelically, agree!“
Replies Psyche,
lying on Zeus’s couch
writing love notes
to Eros, very quietly.
“Erebus, your Royal Darkness,
and Most Titanic Villain,
every time you speak
I get this sinking feeling!
You make Apollo appear bright.
And I am
thinking of the children.
Better to be uplifted
in a loving family
than cast down and out
into emotional poverty.
Of this
I have some understanding,
for as you know,
I was once human.”

“What’s on the agenda?”,
enquires Pan as he enters,
“Because Dionysus,
he’ll be a no show.
He’s off on a bender,
with Pandora,
and some Panamanian dictator.
But he extends his excuses
to the esteemed Head Togas.”

“Thanks Pan. Late as ever”,
Sighs Athena.
“We’re asking why panophobia
is taking over?
Now be a good Immortal
and shut that gaping portal.”

“Talking of which,”
Ares jumps in,
“We should get all deluvian
on their collective arses!
Like go all out Old Testamental!
Then, with some modification,
start all over again. Simple!
But this time, Eros,
you best take a long vacation.
Prometheus gave mankind fire,
but you, Eros,
gave them burning desire.
Along with all
it’s mixed up confusion.
The Erotes
have those silly goats
by their scrawny throats.
And, Lorde Psyche,
you may now be
amongst the Royals
and a Pure Heroine,
but in this matter
you are sadly mistaken!
Make War, not Love!
Confliction
is my chosen vocation.
For Life is Destruction!“

“Life is Creation
you moron!”
interjects Eros,
fuming with frustration.
“Continuous recreation,
continuously.
They’re only human after all.
So don’t put the blame on me.”

“Wrong time, wrong place,
and wrong religion,
Ares my son”,
Zeus jumps in, with a grin.
“But I do like your thinking!
And please excuse Eros,
by the way,
he’s missing his mother,
Aphrodite, who’s taking
an extended holiday.
She’s in mourning
for the passing
of young Achilles
and Leonidas.
Your fault, Ares,
of course.
As for poor Adonis,
the jury is still out,
but Ares ,
you’re looking kind of guilty.
And we all know Prince Hector
was her Troy Boy.
With great remorse,
her love life ever since,
sparsely Spartan.
So Eros, kindly pass on
our our condolences to
the Queen Cougar for her loss
the next time you see her.
(Aphrodite tells not her true
age to any of her many lovers)

“And Atlas”,
Zeus continues,
“thanks at last for coming.
Grab a seat
and take a load off.
Looks like we’ll all be here
pontificating on this same old
thorny question
till the world stops spinning.”

“King Zeus,
how’s the family going?”,
asks Atlas, politely enquiring.

“Queen Hera is in the kitchen”,
Zeus replies, “doing the dishes”
(Demeter and Hera
can’t stand to be
in the same room together.
Two royal wives
of the one disloyal partner.
Not to mention what
Zeus got up to with Europa)
“Persephone is now Queen
of the Underworld
having married Hades.
Young Hermes, as always,
he’s off on a mission.
Ares here, as usual,
in need of some
military discipline.
Apollo is having a sleep in.
He’ll no doubt
be up later this evening.
Artemis is off hunting.
Shooting in California,
where Hollywood
is creating a Superstar.
And they’ve made her
change her name to Diana?
It’s all left me to wonder,
this time
has she gone too far?
As for the others,
you know me Atlas,
too many to mention
(Zeus winking).
But we’ve all
been having fun watching
the trials of Ulysses
since Morpheus
gave him a dose
of wanderlust.
(To be, or not to be
confused with the matrix
of a Wholly Trinity,
So, for a heathen’s sake
Ulysses take the red pill
… and awake!)
Thanks Atlas for asking.
And Erebus, if you and Ares
keep making messes,
you two will be the ones
going against Hera’s wishes!
Now Atlas,
may I put you on the map
for some heavy lifting
in this discussion?
Who’s up next?
Who else wants to chime in?“

“Man has been granted
too much freedom!”,
as Chaos
joins in on the chorus,
“All this `tolerance
and acceptance´
is at my expense.
With their democracy,
and equality.
Everything all
‘nice and orderly’.
(unless, of course,
you’re a slave or a woman)
But my
Political Action Committee
is about to trumpet in
a new millennium.
It’s high time Pan and I
go down and start campaigning.
Kick up some pandemonium!“

“A little flash in the Pan”,
exclaims Pan,
“A Pantastic idea Chaos.
Worthy of myself.“
(Pan known to be prone
to a bit of self promotion)
“Man,
they can not handle the Pan,
hot cookin’ with Chaos,
and perhaps a dash
of Phosphorus thrown in.
Not forgetting about you,
Ares, bringing down
some serious Armageddon.
For Ares, my friend,
you think War is gay politics
by any and all other means.
Because warfare makes you happy
and is the stuff of your dreams.
You are Ares,
the Spirit of Battle,
in all your gory glory.
But this conflict may require
a little Pandemic subtlety.
That reminds me Zeus,
I wonder, does the director
of that movie realise Artemis,
Diana, or whatever
has taken the oath of virginity?
Poor Orion,
he will never recover
from his close encounter
in the proximity
of that vicinity!
There’s your,
“love that does no harm”,
Helios.
And what exactly
did happen to Adonis?
As for you Demeter
I think maybe
somebody has hugged
one too many tree!
Speaking thusly,
come on Electra,
since you’re up here,
how about a
Mount Olympus knee trembler?“
(Pan being malicious
and capricious by nature.)

“Do not pander
to Pan’s megalomania!”
pleads Hermaphroditos,
“Nor his nasty innuendos.
May we please get back
to the agenda?”
Hermaphroditos continues
addressing the Powers,
power dressed in a black
leather pantsuit.
Always the trendsetter.
The first ever
to trans & unite gender.
“Can lowly man, with all pride
put aside, ever transcend?
Will they never resolve
to é evolve?
Plus de guerre!
Pour permettre amour to évoluer”.

“In Greek you ancient freak!”,
exclaims Ares, “So to speak!
Brother Hypnos,
If there’s any more talking,
please, put me to sleep.
Poseidon you are wet
behind the ears,
and off with the fishes.
When you should be in
the kitchen sink
helping Hera with the dishes.
And Electra, I know you don’t
truck with Triton, nor any Titan,
being a mere human,
so please don’t take offence,
but this is where
the big swinging Gods hang out,
here on Mount Olympus.
I think you may be
on the wrong side
of the mortal fence.
As for that Titan Religulous,
you’re being ridiculous.
Leave him alone.
He is very good for my business”.

“Helios, shine a light,”
entreaties Eros,
rising to the defence,
“Rambo here
is looking for a fight.
And Pan, you truly are
the Colossus of Taurus dust!“

A bolt from the blue
like a reckoning gone bust
and long overdue.
The pounding
of Orion’s belting.
A clash of Titans
in a flash of lightening.
A trident shining
… used as a cue.
As Zeus and Demeter,
the Earth Mother,
call it a night,
after a game
of cosmic snooker.
Bidding one and all
a fond adieu.

By and by
so to say
I know that not one jot
of the Law and all
will ever pass away
Otherwise
the books of Moses
are nothing
but a passion play
Yet now, and forever,
the Law of Love
is here to stay

Is it ever O.K.
to make a stand
by standing on a soapbox
and ripping into
someone else’s
state of the heart?
To make it plain …
by tearing them apart?
Is that a part in the parcel
of a loving God’s plan?
Jesus didn’t do the hard sell
to the woman at the well
Saying the true things
only divine love can tell
But when it came
to the religious
and self-righteous Pharisees
Jesus gave them hell
Just as too much
wrong lovin’
brings a man no honour
so to
too much religiosity
curries a man no favour
with the True Loving Saviour

Where the rubber hits the road
and when it’s down to the bone
you are always as ever
yet never alone
Blood out of a stone
A seed that has grown
Every new day
a time to choose
A time to fight for the right
even when you’re sure to lose
Where does the struggle end?
Where do I begin?
A time for flight
even when you’re sure to win
Overcome in the name of love
have I endured all things?
To be numbered among the dead
when just a bit late
getting out of bed
But then again
it’s been a bit of a fight
on a long haul flight
returning to the land
of the living
Where only Doctor Feelgood
was seen celebrating
in the Tardis
whilst writing a prescription
Finding only a true dill
takes the blue pill
Perhaps one day
all will be forgiven?
But not when
the remembrance
is being so hard driven
The wisdom of age
is never a given.
Perhaps that’s the point
to all this
blessed long living?
Neither mercy nor grace
but something for yourself
to be striving for
and the winning

Out from the darkness
of Erebus
with all the ransomware
of Tartarus
words like a virus
A desert mirage of sabotage
bidding Ulysses a bon voyage
in a haze of rage
Are we on the same side?
I tried to play it nice
but don’t kill my vibe
With the Word as my guide
I’ll take it all
in my broken stride
The pity and the petty
disappearing without a sound
This doesn’t have to be
‘the big get even’
Stop dragging my story around
Tap dancing the shopping malls
Gossiping in print
Shopped Shocked and Mauled

More things
under heaven and earth
The truth with all proof
giving birth
Grace and mercy me
Them used lover blues
an oasis of muddy waters
(where the Humungus
took on Mad Max
only sadly to lose!)
when those daughters
of Mount Olympus
declare the scene a crime
for any brother
or sister of mine
to walk a mile in my shoes
To discover for themselves
truth’s missing pieces.
Putting together all the clues

Like a young Achilles
making a cretaceous error
I once had a lover
in a distant era
She’s sure to tell ya
I done her wrong
Aeolus’s Daughter by name
tempestuous by nature
Still singing
that same old song
That bitter embrace
without mercy or grace
held me captive
all night long
But now I have a lover
like no other
who fans the flame
Of sound mind
and resounding body
The spiritual abounding
above and beyond
all guilt and shame
With one foot
planted firmly
on the ground
Dissatisfaction?
Nought to be found
Getting old
with loving mercy
disgracefully
And with gratitude
That place where loving grace
covers a multitude
And scant regard for those
who choose to judge and accuse
Now walking tall
in renewed lover’s shoes
From the Top of the Pop
bringing down the big time
with consummate ease
Athena … my Bella
you got me on my knees
I’m praying
darling please
… just call me Ulysses
For you’ve got me
marching to the tune
of a much sweeter song
In the light of day
In Jesus name

~ by david redpath © 2017

“Life is too short
for the indulgence of animosity.”
~ Sir Walter Scott

20170525_130515-01-01913805692.jpeg

‘Ulysses and the Sirens’
~ by J.W.Whitehouse

40 thoughts on “Used Lover Blues”

    1. Thank you very much, Stella.
      From one survivor to another,
      there is joy to be had,
      in the here and now,
      and within the depths
      of forever. ~ David R

      And yes, Stella,
      I can multiple ‘Like’
      from varied locations.

      Liked by 2 people

  1. Yes David, you did write it too long and as Ulysses advised young Achilles, I had to take quite a few deep breaths to read on. But it has been totally worth the time. A strange mix of mythology and a lover’s rant. Bravo!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks 4 persevering, Punam.
      I found I was in need of a
      long therapeutical purge.
      Writing this did me the world
      of good, and cheaper than
      a headshrinker. I do apologise
      for any reader’s fatigue it may
      have inflicted (not really).

      Liked by 1 person

      1. The pleasure of reading was all mine. No reader’s fatigue, but you know how athletes feel after a good workout? Slightly breathless but invigorated. This kind of purge is not just cheaper but beneficial to both the writer and the reader.
        Looking forward to the next.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Ceelah.
      I guess poetry is what
      happens when you’re busy
      doing other things.
      Just be ready to make a
      faithful, fateful recording
      (hopefully not fatal).
      I appreciate you reading.

      Like

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