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 shaded eyes
failing to disguise
a festering fever
of hidden trauma
Is this life but a test?
A trial by unholy fire?

Infected
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 a well
of “You must never tell!”
Down a bottomless pit
the prisoner of pain
With only a bitter grain
of dissolving shelter
from the sacrement
of helter skelter
Worshipped and injected
That sword of fate
self inflicted
with words of hate
scrawled upon the wall
of a darkened cell
The poetry of chaos
and innocence lost
boasting the loss
Not knowing the cost
The tunnel you’re digging
whatever you’ve been mainlining
whoever you’ve been channeling
it is truly gutter diving
in the company
of creatures crawling
Babies on ice born
The fabric of flesh torn
by hellhounds mauling

The ammunition
of a combustion engine
shooting holes
in a biosphere bleeding
A black market to counter
your personal revolution
Like a hungry vegan lost
roaming the wilderness
of a land ever flowing
with milk and blood money
Let’s get this over with, Honey!
Get on with the hanging
An ancient tree is swaying
to an angry melody
and is impatiently waiting
for the final dance of death
in suicidal slow motion
Upon a cold and bitter breeze
guilt is left swinging
Beyond all regret
… never forget
you are a one
in 7 billion special
to the Great Eternal
Who’s love is insistent
with a persistent yearning
You are never just another
plastic drop
in the cosmic ocean

Humanity broken
and begging for mercy
Becoming a byproduct
of 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
and the bodacious
stand a hell of a chance
Not some free thinking
panty-waist
As Salvation’s Corp
feed the hungry poor
an army of salivation
feeds the intravenous
and the delirious
all under the sway
of a heavy metal pentecost
Dying to stoke the fire
of eternal desire
with hands of frost
holding on firmly
to a twin necked guitar
Caught in yesterday’s gravity
the user becomes the past
The marginalized
and the criminalized
a mental health commodity
Commandeered by fear
then socially engineered
Used and abused
by the criminal boss
empowered by the sin
of prohibition
Only the devil wins
in this losing game
of prohibiting “sins”
Corruption from the highest
to the lowest of places
And a multitude of disgraces
in the killing field
of a pharmaceutical industry
Heavy duty spiritual poverty
on a high of corporate prosperity
The alchemy of a golden yield

When it comes
to human charity
Image is the priority
Style without substance
Like a celebrity on oxy
Meanwhile …
you too can be a winner
with a reconstructed smile
Just Instagram a picture
of your dinner
You are the epitome
of cosmetic health
And you’ve still got your wealth
So just post another selfie
No one will ever see
the truth underneath
The sweet … and the bitter

With minions scanning
my voter data base
and a bad case of ichyosis
the scrofulous
the censorious
and the divisively mysterious
all scamming my
democractic weakness
with trivia superfluous
Whilst from Syria to Yemen
children are dying of starvation!
Tribal squabbles
and Iron Age religion
in the hard rain
of barrel bombing mutilation
As you spill your life of privilege
down a stormwater drain
In the once holy lands
chemical agents of tyranny
are poured without mercy
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?
The oil keeps flowing
The cartels keep harvesting
The big guns keep on firing
as missiles are flying
Is the C.I.A administering?
Or is this madness self medicating?
Empires of the Earth chasing
the tail of some dragon
With that smell of sarin
in the napalm morning
I guess a spoonful
of blood diamonds
does help the medicine
go down?

Upon a rock
in outer space
constantly spinning
the existential grievance
most industrious
with an 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 cavernous fears
of receptive ears
A reckoning overdue
The fateful charismatic
plotting dark magic
with a star chart of tears
and a familiar psychotropic
dwelling in life’s basement

Faith broken
and misled
Truth seekers forsaken
as retro hippies
injest the false token
of a secret potion
The sorcery
of a shamanic 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 life’s merry go round
on a horse that’s gone lame
Seeking only who’s to blame
Putting yourself
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
Within the Great Spirit
a mighty wind is roaring
A questioning gentle whisper
Could Jesus be the answer?

With persistence tough
and a whole lotta love
to break the chains
Enough to tame
the proud and the vain
Even initiates
of the wholly insane
The sum total
of your reality ethereal
to be in the Spirit
who brings true freedom
as on the wings of an eagle
… gracefully soaring

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 all that’s surreal
As cereal box science
tries to apply a dress code
to this existence
of brokenness
and cultural abuse
To excuse the misuse
of dark substance . . .
useless without repentance
Don’t be recused
In the light of the Son
become one
with the total sum
With all persistence
perseverance
and spirited resilience
we can truly become
the triumphant resistance
against an Empire of darkness

~ Words & Image:
David B. Redpath © 2018-19

“Religion is for people who fear hell.
Spirituality is for people who have been there.”
~ David Bowie

116 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…
    Relapse
    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
      industry.
      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

  5. We all have our cross to bear
    Even though, we only stare and glare
    Cupids arrows are made sharper
    Than an old whaling harpoons money order
    Your words meanings are precise
    Leaving piles of putrid mice
    Floating on leftover stale ice
    Oh please let me come into storm
    Out of the blizzard, I need to be warm
    ———-
    And in the end I sough refuge from your words
    So many damn adjectives, nouns, and verbs
    —————
    “Ice forming
    upon neural pathways
    of a brain inflicted
    Ever and always
    the only gain
    with a taste for hell
    hidden deep within a well
    of “You must never tell!”
    Down a bottomless pit
    the prisoner of pain”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank for that, Ivor.
      And yes, I know … “Less is more.”
      But I was raised on Shakespeare,
      and the writings of Longfellow.
      For your perseverance you richly
      deserve a dose of Dylan.
      Straight up … Short & Sweet 😎

      “Twas in another lifetime,
      one of toil and blood
      When blackness was a virtue
      the road was full of mud
      I came in from the wilderness,
      a creature void of form
      Come in, she said
      I’ll give ya shelter from the storm.”

      Liked by 3 people

  6. Dear David, I adore that the proportions here are epic! At times it seem like the whole opposable thumb world has its finger on the trigger, a harbinger of ill will against our sisters and our brothers. Let’s do more than the hokey-pokey and turn ourselves around, we need to think straight and jump into the light before the final Big Bang.
    Awesome, I thoroughly enjoyed traveling down this path with you. Fantastic poem/narrative! ~ Mia

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Always the choice, Mia. To become one
      with a reality much higher, or join the herded
      bipeds being consigned to history.
      Humanity does not need to be just another
      sad story, with an unhappy ending.
      This life is for living, and in truth, transcending.
      Thank you very much Mia, for reading . . .
      and the simpático commenting 🙏💛😎

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I prematurely hit that little SEND button all
      the time.
      I also tend to look around … and ask why?
      But then, visions & dreams leave me asking,
      why not?
      Thanks for taking the time reading 😎

      Like

  7. Drugs, corruption, more drugs, climate change, more drugs, big oil, more drugs, chemical and poison gas, more drugs, guns, more drugs, blood diamonds, more drugs, cultural abyss, more drugs.

    That about sums up the current state of the world all right.

    And the hands of love are those pierced by nails on a Cross.

    While the hands of despair are those holding a needle piercing their own veins.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. The poem is short but carries a lot of meaning if scrutinized properly.

    Such a profound way of writing. Love the beginning part of it( The gleaning
    seeking fallen fruit)

    and the end part of the poem just made it look real again(
    the triumphant resistance
    against an Empire of darkness)

    Thanks for giving me that mindset about emotion as you said in your poem explanation.

    I still remain  the simple blogger…..

    #PATRICKSTORIES
    Peace ✌and Love ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for taking the time to scrutinise.
      I simply try to covert into words all I observe.
      But the words choose to come out as poetry.
      It is a profound mystery to me.
      For as Pluto once said, “I know nothing”.
      So best to keep things simple 🙏😎

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s