Change … Unchained

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The good, the bad,
the beautiful, and the ugly,
in the broken mirror of time
all staring back at me.
When Planet Earth
was first given birth,
a world of wonder and beauty,
it was good.
Could be. Should be.
The Spirit challenges me
. . . “CHANGE”.

Saddled upon a vortex
of unbridled chaos.
Riding a well worn trail
of privilege and pretence,
that terminates
at the gates of Los Lobos.
Where someone is building
a great big fence
upon the mirage
of human waste.
Loving kindness?
Not a taste!
Where the accusations,
and the abuse,
are just too intense.

Mankind in the frame.
A slave in the chains
of brother Cain.
Ötzi the Iceman
on the run
from something new
under the sun.
Have you been sharpening
your balistic aim
at the rifle range
of verbal exchange?
Indeed, you’ll need
to step up your game.
At times it seems
the more things change
deep at the core
just more of the same

This valley of dry bones
where the black dog of shame
eats into your brain
whilst whispering your name.
Sticks and stones thrown
from low flying drones
delivering cardbord pizza
and barrel bombs of pain
The Maker of Shadows
in some unrelenting game
with the Feeder of Sorrows.

Do you know
what you’re here for?
Nature or Nurture
Fortune and fame?
No need to be tame.
Nature is a mother
in the arms
of a heavenly lover.
As a true son
and a true daughter
Nurture will always
walk with you
in the Garden of Forever.
Is it high time
to surrender
that calculus
of a fermented mess
and arise like a phoenix
from the fires
… of change?

Has the Chantress
of Amun,
from the Karnak of Ruin,
led you
with a merry tune?
Do you know
who you’re up against?
A bad case of self defense?
Has the cold of this world
left you frozen?
Boxed in ice
by the twist
of a personality test?
And all the circumstance
of random chance?
Have you been listening
to all those beautiful lies
from Lucy in the Skies?
Without legal representation,
or even a star chart
to hide in?
With fear loud
and silent desperation
a world imploding
in a universe expanding.
Destination uncertain
with no good explanation?
Best seek the Mainframe
with mindful meditation,
via the server of salvation,
before the big final curtain.
How long can heaven wait
… for change?

Taking a fateful risk
in a petri dish of uselessness.
This culture of fruitlessness,
where the selfie and the selfless,
the young and the restless,
are caught in between a scene
of the spirited mean.
The P.C. aggressive
and the proselytising atheist
posing as a celebrity scientist?
Trying their best to insult
with every borrowed breath.
… What next!
A virus downloaded
by the click of a tongue
and the flick of a wrist.
The mind unwound
by a stray cog on the run?
Plenty to be found.
In need of a Life Strategist?
Better make it a real good one!
Have you had the jab
of supernatural resistance?
Is it time for a celestial fix?
That penicillin of the soul
that dont take the heavy toll
Is it time for you
to flick the switch?
When life brings you
to the ledge,
and you’re walking
along the edge,
you’ll get to the point
… of change.

The haughty, the naughty,
and the nice.
The would be
and the could be
… could we all
be pirouetting
in some fool’s paradise?
Caught in the trance
of a downhill dance?
Humanity loaded down
by a virtual reality.
Landing a low blow
in the land of FOMO.
A void devoid of
humble humility?
Bravado allegro
to avoid all thoughts
of mortality, temporarily.
Don’t be checked mate
by force feeding
the Hand of Fate
Are you punching
below your weight?
Like the bully
in a spate of hate?
While there’s life,
where there is love,
it is never too late
… for change.

True power
with divine passion
always seems to be
under the hammer
of insidious persecution?
Whilst the scoundrel
of invidious motivation
in his refuge of abuse
dons the rags of religion
Always a good look
when facing
a tribal election.
“Viva la revolución…
and lets make our tribal
dance great again!”
The power of pseudo expression,
where hatred is the passion.
Through the hall of mirrors
smoke is seeping
with an unholy glimmer.
Mother Dysmorphia,
high on the tide of fashion,
a caged demon to deliver.
With that medicine
of prescription
you may as well surrender
to the Church of Social Media
where the prisoners are taken,
to reflect a screen drooling.
What place better
for the construction
of a new and improved persona?
Is that who you truly are?
Have you overstayed your visa?
Is that where you’re at
… Dans le noir ?
You have already
the sweet loving ability
imbued with nobility
… surpassing.
Beyond worldly worth,
a citizen by birth.
Made in the Image.
Imago Dei … all the way!
Don’t shoot the messenger,
or his deputy!
No need for false
cyber imagery.
Are you longing
to break IT free?
Inevitability
the justice of Cosmic Poetry
in harmonious motion,
upon this mystical fluid ocean,
catches up with all at sea.
Some things are certain.
True change,
upon the runway of life
… just waiting to happen.

The fast and the furious,
the Slow and the Curious,
desperately seeking
a code for the road
written with compassion.
In the algorithm
of purpose,
A promise virtuous;
You’ll never be the same,
in Jesus’ name,
after a cold shower,
a hot shot of truth,
and some warm love
Likewise, like a dove,
lifting you above
all the family feud
of a tribal blame game.
Be altitude blessed.
Upwardly mobile,
in righteous style,
with a lingering taste
of divine substance.
Not a loser, a failure,
nor a sinner.
In Christ,
a redeemed winner.
With the mother
of all makeovers.
Invited for dinner,
to the banquet
to mark the end
of this world’s
broken racquet.
To be found
sound of mind,
through the central server
of the profound,
on the Eternal Mainframe.
Rerouted for gain,
through all the pain,
to begin again,
with a decision
… to change.

The high
and the mighty,
the sick and the lame,
to the One for all
are we all made the same?
Weighing the measure
children of Light
made heavy duty.
Counting the cost
of misplaced treasure,
with downcast eyes,
“Lord God,
please forgive me …”
To be, or not to be,
one of a kind?
Rebooting the mind,
whilst the truth
is within range.
With a world of strange
to rearrange.
Or am I playing it safe
in a familiar place?
Am I daring to embrace
with full grace
… the winds of change?

Has the Temptress
of Tarot
left you to beg,
steal, and borrow?
Has your stone circle
and your rock of crystal
lost their sparkle?
Has the millstone
around your neck
come full circle?
Is it written
in the stars
or upon the red sands
of Mars?
A tongue to chastise
and freely criticise?
From a wasted place
of disgrace
the bruises and scars
of a thousand lies.
Are you fitting in
nicely with the best
of the rest
on the red carpet,
right next to
the celebrity entrance?
Big business,
show business
and Miss Universal entrants
all strutting the catwalk
of political correctness.
Are you gagging at the
Vomitorium of Sameness?
Are you chomping
at the bit
where the opium
of the masses
will get you elected
to high office?
And where Gladiators
of the Rock Age
are making
a final appearance.
The Palace of Privilege
raving to the sounds
of Mr. Hendrix
and his Experience.
Raging against the Queen
of a Stone Age Pub Test.
Best to resist,
cease & desist,
that Kool-Aid Acid Test.
Are you on a slide
just outside
the Cathedral
of Eternal Bliss?
Baby, it’s gotta
come from the inside,
not from somebody
or something else.
Are your stocks
taking a loss
at the Shock Exchange
of Strife?
Need an honest broker
to divest and reinvest
your portfolio of life?
Is it possible
to rearrange?
In a splurge to purge
are you dry reaching
… for change?

With all the ugliness
of greed,
the never ending need
at all costs
to succeed,
the screaming hassles
of abstract divisions,
and angry explosions
seemingly streaming rife,
could you do
with some peaceful rest?
would you know
what is true
when it hits you
In the chest?
Are you overdue
for a breakthrough?
To breathe
the breath of life?
Sick and tired
of a wild goose chase?
There is a place
of mercy and grace.
Do you know the address?
Faith to be found
within that inner place,
where peace of mind
is the prize sublime.
Is it past time
to change the pace?

Do I have
the necessary gear
to stare down
hatred and fear
right between the eyes?
Or am I resuming
the grooming
of a false assumption?
Do I have
the God given gumption
for reconstruction?
To be torn down
from the rooftop
of easy seduction,
down to the foundation?
Regeneration,
upon a pathway that rises
from yesterday’s ashes,
to a never ending
love dimmension.
A fair exchange
for those willing
… to change.

The bully
and the blameless,
the greedy
and the shameless,
all searching the breach.
Attempting to reach
the substance
of eternal magnificence.
To find true significance.
Without the sorcery
of abusive substance.
It’s gotta come
from the inside,
not from somebody
or something else.
Forsaken and taken
on a guilt trip
to the beach
by some practitioner
of the big preach.
With fine speech
for your wallet to reach.
The real deal in Christ,
not a counterfeit,
not a token,
but with the pure,
truer Word ever spoken.
Turning your eyes
towards Him,
to interface
with mercy and grace.
To find the divine
in that mindful place
… Kingdom within.
You are a coin
of the heavenly realm,
stamped and minted
with the image of the King.
Brother, can you spare
… some change?

Are you waiting
for a sign
to know ahead of time
what’s going down?
Are you climbing up
the wrong ladder?
A stranger danger
pointing a finger
to a place
you just don’t belong?
Or some leader new
singing the same old song?
To make a follower of you,
and blind you
to what is right
and what is wrong?
To keep you
from the light.
And perhaps,
bound and gagged,
to string you along?
When change hits
the big fan
we’ll see who’s got
the better plan.
The body and soul of Man
covered in wounds
inflicted by
the ceaseless tongues
of false prophets.
All now left for dust
rotting in their tombs
whilst sleeping restlessly
with dark spirits.
What would those
celebrity atheists
know of this?
Yet they’re still
willing to preach to us!
What would I know of this?
I was salvaged
from a sea of garbage
by the One they say
doesn’t even exist.
At the Crossroad Real
I was offered a deal
I could not resist.
Far apart from deals dirty,
all superstitious
flights of fancy,
and those too numerous
ridiculous and religious
doctrines of fantasy.
And the downright strange.
couldn’t you use
a true loving friend
… just for a change?

Some say,
the Hand of Fate
having written,
moves on.
I believe
a free hand is given
to all God’s children.
To write their own
sacred song.
At times,
against the headwinds,
you need sing it loud,
and sing it strong.
Against an enemy
who tries
with crimes of design
to terrorise you
into just playing along.
So lift your eyes
and harmonise
with a choir leader true.
Who will see you right
in the light,
and won’t steer you wrong,
with some dead beat
Charles Manson song.
In a world of reaction
could you use some
remedial action?
Whilst your piece
is on the board
and still in motion,
do you need
some locomotion
for cutting through
all the commotion?
To realign with the
Right and Royal Kingdom.
Where souls
are made whole
and unfrozen.
Where the curse
of all lies is broken.
Like gone and forgotten.
In Truth, with all proof,
may the true you,
the immaculate Imago Dei,
now and forever, be spoken.
Free and unchained
as light through the prism
… of Change.

Words & Image:
~ david redpath © 2018

81 thoughts on “Change … Unchained”

      1. I just like to keep my eyes, and mind open.
        I feel the “Wisdom of Age” is an undeserved privilege
        after fully exploring the freedom to rage.
        And to share,
        even if no one is listening.
        ~ Thanks again Rita

        Liked by 5 people

  1. This is a truly great poem, David.
    A nice summing up of the follies of the age in which we live.
    Between the realm of illusion that is this world of cyberspace and social media that humanity has created for itself and the True Reality that is to be found in Christ.

    Liked by 6 people

    1. I went out on Lower
      Broadway and I felt that
      place within,
      That hollow place where
      martyrs weep and angels
      play with sin.
      ~ Bob Dylan (Dirge)

      Thanks Chris.
      I must confess,
      whilst writing this
      I was riding the rapids,
      upon a grand promise
      of eternal bliss.

      Liked by 4 people

  2. I am hooked on your poetry.
    It inspires me.
    Such a deep take on everything.
    I live these lines from your poem:
    ”a free hand is given to all God’s children.
    To write their own sacred song..”
    Yes, and we all try to sing our own sacred song.
    Thankyou for your poetry

    Liked by 5 people

      1. Oh bless you David.
        Thank you so much.
        I do love the cutting edge to your poetry,
        that slices through hypocrisy to the real
        truth within. Kudos

        Liked by 4 people

      1. Let me re-phrase: I suck at sarcastic poetry. I’m only good for a one-liner…something that doesn’t have to rhyme, most of the time (Heh!). If it does, it’s purely by accident…
        I thought imitation was the highest form of flattery? Perhaps imitation and sarcasm are interchangeable.

        Liked by 2 people

  3. This time reading it, David, I caught your wonderful line about “the lies of Lucy in the sky with diamonds.”

    And I immediately thought whose name the name Lucy can be short for and the Apostle Paul’s warning about the “prince of the power of the air”.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. A fascinating poem, David. Quite a nice swing to it, too.

    Of course, how we see ourselves — our poem, so to speak — is constantly under assault from so many fronts, primarily society.

    At times,
    against the headwinds,
    you need sing it loud,
    and sing it strong.
    Against an enemy
    who tries
    with crimes of design
    to terrorise you
    into just playing along.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you very much
      dear lady … from
      the House of the Holly.
      It matters not how bent
      the jouney spent,
      nor how high the gate,
      for I’m now charged with contentments many
      along this mortal coil.
      I was the master
      of my confounded fate
      till I relinquished control
      to the captain true
      of my immortal soul.
      (Ernest apologies
      to William Henley)

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Luiza, I must confess,
        much of the time,
        I don’t know what
        I’m writing.
        When I put down the pen
        I often think to myself,
        where did that come from?
        Thank you for partaking,
        sweet friend.

        Like

      2. Oh I get you so much. But do you work on these or is your poetry mostly stream of consciousness? Because I do it. But not to the extent you do.as in, your poetry is quite long winded. In a magical creative good way. This is the uncomfortable at work. Gosh David I am at a Psychoanalysis workshop. About to learn Lacan and language. Ask your half about it if you’re not acquainted with him yet.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Perhaps, he may be. I am the funniest in psychoanalysis. I keep trying to integrate it all together. I don’t see why Jung and Freud can’t be integrated. But then again, I confess I have an interest in psychoanalysis but do not really know it in depth. But I have my whole life ahead to try and figure that out.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. The human mind covers
        a lot of ground.
        Jung leaned to the spiritual,
        whereas Freud was more primal.
        It may all depend on who
        you talk to, and what phase
        of this cosmic maze, they
        are passing through.

        Like

      5. Luiza, my wife has a degree
        in psychology, and I had to
        keep up to help her study.
        I once read a poem by
        Longfellow that took up a
        whole book, from cover to
        cover. So, in comparison,
        I think my poems are quite short!

        Like

      6. Ah that’s so lovely of you David real and true partnership. May yous be blessed and may I find this one day. 😘😘😘😘to yous and wow. I’m not even going to attempt googling this one long poem haha.

        Liked by 1 person

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