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
criminalised
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
glistening
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
Religions
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
Screaming
… 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 © 2018-19
Wow!😊
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A ‘Wow’ from you Mairi
means a lot to me.
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I recited it out loud, taking in every word… Well done you🤗
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Be Careful Mairi, when reciting!
You never know who’s listening?
~ Thanks again
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I was going to just write “Wow!” too. Seriously! I felt like I was on a train trudging uphill. In a great captured-your-everything way. Cheers!!! 🙂
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Thanks … it has been a Slow Train Coming.
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This is Some Beautiful stuff David. 🙂
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Thank you Shashank.
And I’ve been enjoying reading your poetry.
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Thank you David for this incredible poem; I am blown away. I chuckled at the David Bowie reference: A lad insane; nice touch
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Thanks Revo.
And I do like to dabble with
a bit a plagiarism, since all
the cool stuff has already
been written.
Yes, a homage to the Jean Genie.
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Thank You Revo.
Ziggy Stardust will live
to fight another day!
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What a train ride! I just love your poetry. Only just found it!
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Thanks Lorraine, for the finding,
reading, and commenting.
I just spent a pleasant
villanelle spell down blindzanygirl way.
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Lol. Thanks for reading. I just wrote one that was not quite so pleasant. Ha!
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The pleasantries of good poetry
are in the heart and mind
of the beholder.
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Absolutely true!
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Amazing write up David.. poetic
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Greatly appreciated, Chiru 🙏
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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).
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Yes, indeed Peter, an interesting
question.
Since Emojis are creatures 😁
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 🤔).
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 🐈
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A very deep and moving poem David. Thank you for sharing. Just Beautiful! 💖👍
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You’re most welcome, Nifty B. 🙏
Deep down, I think we are all sailors
longing for the sea 🌊⛵ Just like the
Vikings of old 😎
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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!
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You’re very welcome, Loujen 🙏
Anything I can do to help 😎
I hear, when in a jam with a brain
that’s toast, marmalade is the most.
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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“Masters of World Finance high on the smell of spent ammunition”
Said “wow” out loud when I read that. Powerful words all throughout this one. Great poem!
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Thanks for the positive feedback,
Mitchel 🙏 Yes, on this particular
road trip I collected a few postcards
for the folks back home.
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Another great poem, David.
And the road to somewhere ultimately has only 2 destinations at the end. 😇 or 😈
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Thank you very much, Chris 🙏
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
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Very very true.
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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!
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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.
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You’re welcome!
I like your prose…. a lot!
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🙏 💛
Emojis are but graffiti
in the form of confetti 😎
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Awesome. What an artful and thought-provoking journey. I was happy to be along for the ride. 😎
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Very happy to have you on board,
the most eclectic poetic Conquistador
of all she beholds 👁️🌄👁️
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Great❣❣❣
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Thank you, Luisa 🙏
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Thanks for the most entertaining, informative and as always, thought-provoking ride, David. ❤️
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My unplugged pleasure, Punam 😎❤️
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The road not taken; the verse not read; I’m liking rather a lot the way you string your lines together. They provoke thought.
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Greatly appreciated, Anna 🙏
Glimpses strung together along
a plumb line whilst doing time
for the crime of seeking the divine.
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Your poetry blazes through with amazing cadence. I couldn’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 –
“Is life but a mixed trail
of guilt over spilt milk
born of betrayal?
All for the bite
of an all knowing apple?”
It’s a question I ask myself often.
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Your positivity is positively
appreciated, Nitin 🙏
I guess that’s the beginning
of wisdom, to ask yourself
the big questions in the light
of eternity … and all that
salad dressing.
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Whatever you feeling, it’s been captured well enough to write a piece of art here, hey this is writing. Love it
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Your kind comment is greatly
appreciated, Thank you 🙏
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