The King of Hearts

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Upon a red carpet of vanity
this slipstream of existence
glimpsed but momentarily
through the blur of humanity
with a cry to the sky high …
“What are you hiding from me?”

Up a mystical sleeve
the eye to deceive
the mind to believe
at lightening speed
Shuffling the deck
down mirrors and smoke
whilst smoking the rope
of lost charity and hope
Scaling the snakes
that lie in wait
where the Ancients
of FOMO grieve
Unclenching the hand of fate
my soul to retrieve
from the bottom of the pack
Revealing the dealing
checking out with clarity
checking in to reality
As the King of Hearts
the Ace of Time and Space
asks the Jokers Wild …
“Why are you hiding from me?”

~ by david redpath © 2018

Artwork:
‘The Golden Rush’
~ by david b. redpath © 2018

49 thoughts on “The King of Hearts”

    1. My dealing days
      are done, Chris.
      For I never knew
      when to hold ’em,
      nor when to fold ’em.
      After that last flop,
      at the House
      of the Rising Sun,
      I’m on the turn
      down fourth street
      past the steamboats
      at the cotton docks,
      to that long and winding
      Mississippi river
      Forever to be ‘All In’.
      Never again to be
      the unlucky as sin
      lonesome loser.
      Just another
      rambling gambler.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh my gosh David, I didn’t expect to end up with the Bee Gees in my head 😊It’s been ages!

        Big question. Is God’s heart ever mended? Christ carries His scars of love into eternity… 🤔
        and promises to wipe every tear, that they will be no more. Profound is an understatement.

        And you’re very welcome. Thanks for your thought provoking words!

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Well, God is Love.
        He is jealous for us
        … and Jesus wept.
        Man has managed,
        all on his own, to go
        down a desolate road.
        I see God as the
        prodigal’s father,
        with Jesus as the
        good shepherd
        seeking the lost sheep.

        Liked by 5 people

      3. I agree! And see the same!
        And He’s our prodigal Father over and over, running to meet us. (Or seeking us lost when we stray, gently carrying us.) I so love those images, It so moves me. The reunion, the feasting, the mending of broken hearts 😊💚
        And the Bridegroom, loving and serving humbly to the point of death. Gah! There’s a richness there we could never get to the end of.

        Liked by 1 person

      1. Sorry I missed this interesting comment.
        This morning I really felt the need to shut some voices out, and the contrast between the Shalom voice of God’s word, with the shrill sounds of the world really struck me.
        I’m intrigued you feel you can’t take credit for this, maybe your heart was prompted? But I give you credit for the crafting 😁

        Liked by 1 person

  1. I always like the flow and glow
    of your poems, David, plus the
    double rhymes so many times
    creating lovely musicality,
    personality and real quality,
    just a slight reminiscence
    of the Beat poets once more
    though you opened a new door
    to your personal style in a while
    with beautiful artwork beside
    that comes from the very inside.
    So happy you let us all be part
    of what comes from the inner heart,
    from your inspiration and creation.
    Thank you for sharing your art.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Now just a short question. Do you have any objections to being in my Lola blogs? I once asked Tara Caribou if she objected to me writing about Alaska, but she said it was big enough for me too! I hope Australia, the Hebel Hotel and a certain maker of Red Skies feels the same way as well?

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Have you read Stef Mo? Your style of writing always takes me to his book Panic! That and Leonard Cohen. Forgive me for commenting only on the structure. Your content is brilliant but just saying that wouldn’t really give a comment depth.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am very happy with that comparison, Nitin.
      Stef Mo is brilliant, with a
      style reminiscent of my old friend, John Cooper Clarke,
      the Punk Poet. I was raised
      on the songs of Leonard Cohen
      and Bob Dylan, and the works
      of the beat poets. I guess it
      seeps into your veins.

      Liked by 1 person

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