The Road to Somewhere


On the road to somewhere
The hymn of the plagiarist
without a prayer
ringing in my ear
The fast lane
of mainline seduction
with pedal to the metal
driving a lad insane
criss-crossing creation
An all consuming passion

With bad seed love
lost down the drain
Seeking empathy
in the beat
of street poetry
tasting the heat
venting out from some
mental health facility
A stolen generation
seeking the sweet
marginalised and
by the vagaries
of chaotic prohibition
The high life chasing
upon the tail of a dragon
Dead fingers touch typing
whilst couch surfing
on digital cocaine
and talking a big game
In the straw hut
with a kava chant
before the hunt
for a tower of flame
The past a real blast
or just a story
I tell myself ?
But I must ask the question
… Where am I now?

Just another stray
gone missing
under an alien sun
A myriad of roads
A delirious minor
following in the footsteps
of the transient
and the mysterious
Tom Major
A mind left behind
orbiting planets distant
Yet by the prayers
of a loving mother
and guardians angelic
I was led
by rivers silent
to the waters of wonder
along pathways ancient
Set before me
the infinite future
The big picture
glimpsed clearer
from so much higher
Even from under
a jackboot of trouble
Yes, there is ever
one diabolical colossal
hell of a mess
But there is also
even more so
a big time opus
The salvager spiritus
in the living person
of Christ Jesus
Not some
dead and buried
religious icon
The good news
always free to choose
So I ask the question
… Where to now?

Making a stand
for the narrative grand
and divinely gracious
The alternatives
… contemptuous
Invidious and insidious
Blind leaders
trained to heel
by diamond dogs
of the crooked deal
in wolves clothing
dealing in lost children
Fashionistas of dysmorphia
playing with toys broken
As tourists pray
to idols fallen
Yet the truly sacred
denigrated and forsaken
In the dark space
along the boulevard
of crushed dreams
All things crashing
as demons scheme
From Gasoline Alley
to Tobacco Row
big wheels keep on turning
Girls on the avenue
and the wild boys parading
A new generation
of neural pathways
all scrambling
… Where to now?

Faith in the flesh
of substances handled
Along Baker Street
a cup of bittersweet
is being hustled
Where the educators
and social engineers
of a bankrupt state
are empowering ignorance
So power and greed
can feed in the darkness
Your fiscal fate
used as bait
Like crystal meth
in a silver spoon
upon a golden plate
There the root
of all evil
lies in wait
Masters of World Finance
high on the smell
of spent ammunition
The distraction
the division
of shock and awe
fear and hate
The teleprompter
of a horror show
set on full throttle
to manipulate
From high above
I’ve been lifted up
in a rush of pure love
And through the haze
of a smoking volcano
I’ve seen the schemer
from way down below
As I was tied up
in front of a firing squad
when that blindfold
was ripped right off
The question left begging
… Who to aim at now?

So Baby …
don’t sing to me
of how now you see
So don’t try to tell me
what you think you know
From the cradle
to the grave
going with the flow
and lost in a maze
What’s been moulded
in your brain?
What’s the latest craze?
It all reverbs absurd
since I’ve heard the Word
that set me free
Free as a bird
That’s peace of mind
If you’d be so kind
come take a look
Check out the view
from somewhere higher
Be the becoming
Become brand new
For I’ve seen the dreamer
just like me and you
The daydream believer
who comes and goes
Chasing the fair-weather
Blown in the wind
Shifting in the sand
All hell for leather
The past a blaze of glory
or just a story
I tell myself?
But I must ask the question
… Where are they now?

Yes, how many roads?
Is life but a mixed trail
of guilt over spilt milk
born of betrayal?
All for the bite
of an all knowing apple?
Have you got the latest model?
Taking a backwards glance
the past a blind trance
with only
the holy ghost
of a chance
Through the driving rain
upon a storm
to be reborn
to begin again
With the Spirit true
to rewire the brain
In the name of Him
who made me sane
For the loser then
is now to win
The beginning of wisdom
asking yourself the question
… Where are you now?

~ by David B. Redpath ยฉ 2018-19

46 thoughts on “The Road to Somewhere”

  1. David, I wanted to ask a question about Elmo ‘yellow matter custard’ Emoji … namely, is he a time traveller? The only reason I ask is because I saw him in a 1970’s pic from a US movie stuck to the headlamp of some jeep or other (his doppelganger / identical twin was stuck to the other headlight).

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, indeed Peter, an interesting
      Since Emojis are creatures ๐Ÿ˜
      of the Second Dimension, the laws
      of three dimensional physics do not
      apply to Mr. Smiley Face. It’s a
      quantum mechanical type of thing
      (which I don’t really understand ๐Ÿค”).
      Emojis are actually very small, but
      with the ability to enlarge, and be
      in multiple locations simultaneously.
      Schroeder was the first human to
      discover this fact, but kept it quiet
      for fear of ridicule. Since Einstein
      has declared that God doesn’t play
      dice with the Universe. Therefore,
      any theory of an Emoji reality was
      just silly!
      So instead, Schroeder just went on
      about his cat ๐Ÿˆ


  2. Somehow your verse really flashed me back to my childhood catechism days and all my questionings up till even now of the “whys” and “whatever reasons” of life, time… Oh, well. Now my babbling brain is toast. Have a wonderful holiday, David!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you very much, Chris ๐Ÿ™
      Your comment has reminded of
      some hard hitting lyrics from the
      Poet Laureate of Rock ‘n’ Roll;

      You may be a preacher
      with your spiritual pride
      You may be a city councilman
      taking bribes on the side
      You may be workin’ in a barbershop,
      you may know how to cut hair
      You may be somebody’s mistress,
      may be somebody’s heir
      But you’re gonna have to
      serve somebody, yes
      You’re gonna have to
      serve somebody
      Well, it may be the devil
      or it may be the Lord
      But you’re gonna have to
      serve somebody
      ~ Bob Dylan

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Right now: I am here, and I’ve read
    Your pop culture reverie, a
    Knowledgable knowledge it may be
    You expand into history
    Whereupon we meet.
    It’s no wonder many answer
    Your poetry with prose
    Prose with poetry
    What other option have we?
    Well, well done, David!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Resa, for reviewing
      the postcard collection of a
      tightrope walker, postmarked
      ‘Apocalypso Gardens’. A lovely
      town where graffiti fills the air,
      and the streets flow with the
      grace of multicoloured mercy.
      All I can tell you is the view
      from my window, at the trailer
      park on the freeway exit, is all
      tinted with hope. For love
      from above keeps me warm at
      night, and the cold frost from
      building up like arthritis of the
      restless spirit.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Your poetry blazes through with amazing cadence. I couldnโ€™t catch my breath. It was like listening to bebop. Allusion after allusion written to the beat of rock and roll.
    I especially loved this one โ€“
    โ€œIs life but a mixed trail
    of guilt over spilt milk
    born of betrayal?
    All for the bite
    of an all knowing apple?โ€
    Itโ€™s a question I ask myself often.

    Liked by 1 person

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