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 all good.
Could be. Should be.
Four seconds to midnight,
at the stroke of eternity,
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 a mirage
of human waste.
Loving kindness?
Not a taste!
Where the callous
and the careless
abuse and accuse.
Is the need for change
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.
A 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 pizzas
and barrel bombs of pain.
A mask of shadows
worn by the forlorn
in this game of sorrows.
Three seconds till midnight.
Best not count upon
all those borrowed tomorrows.
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
the Creator
longs to walk with you
in the Garden of Forever.
Is it high time
to surrender
that calculus
of a fermented mess?
Much better
to take up your cross
and arise like a phoenix
from the fires
… of change?
Has the Chantress of Amun,
from the Karnak of Ruin,
led you astray 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 any legal defence!
No rabbit foot to kiss
or star chart to hide in?
Does your brand
of mindfulness
leave you with a dry
and empty taste?
In a purple haze
of spiritual restlessness?
Life and death
upon the whim
of some micro-organism.
With fear loud,
and silent desperation,
a world imploding.
The virus spreading
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 young and the restless,
are caught in between
an extinction protest
and a computer game,
programmed by an all pervasive
spirit of antichrist.
Saving the planet
will be the sugar-coated pretext
for the next tightening of the net
(wait till you’ve read the script).
With the P.C. aggressive,
and the proselytising atheist,
posing as a celebrity scientist?
… What next!?
A virus downloaded
by the click of a tongue
and the flick of a wrist.
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?
A disinfectant of the soul
that won’t take a 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 madly
in some fool’s paradise?
Caught in the trance
of a downhill dance?
Humanity loaded down
with a placebo dose,
as a virus lets loose
upon his pseudo crown.
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.
While there’s life,
where there is love,
it is ever too late
… for change?
True power,
with divine passion,
always seems to be
under the hammer
of insidious persecution?
Whilst the politician
of dubious motivation
dons the rags of religion.
Always a good look
when facing
a tribal election.
“Viva la revolución…
Make our tribe great again!”
Through the hall of mirrors
smoke is seeping
with an unholy glimmer.
Mother Dysmorphia,
high on the tide of fashion,
and her latest prescription.
You may as well surrender
to the Church of Social Media
where the prisoners
of self isolation are taken.
What place better
for a makeover?
A cyber reconstruction?
A new and improved persona?
Is that who you truly are?
Have you overstayed your visa?
… 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!
Inevitability
the justice of cosmic poetry
in harmonious motion,
upon a mystical fluid ocean,
catches up with all at sea.
Some things are certain
… true change,
upon this runway of life,
just waiting to happen
… eventually.
The fast and the furious,
the slow and the cautious,
desperately seeking
a code for the road
written with compassion.
An algorithm of purpose.
For the seeker curious
… a promise virtuous;
In Jesus’ name
After a hot shot
Of love and truth
You’ll never be the same
So, be altitude blessed.
Upwardly mobile
in righteous style
with a lingering taste
of divine substance.
Not a loser,
or a failure.
Not even a sinner!
In Christ,
a redeemed winner.
With the mother
of all makeovers,
Invited for dinner.
A banquet to celebrate
the end of an age,
and this world’s
broken down 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 single 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 a misplaced treasure,
and innocence lost.
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
… the winds of change?
Has the Temptress
of Tarot
left you to beg,
steal, and borrow?
Has your stone circle
and that 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,
with geriatric punks
lost in a virtual sea
of comatose forgetfulness.
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 and 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 just from somebody else.
Are your stocks
taking a pandemic loss
at the Shock Exchange of Strife?
Need an honest broker
to reinvest your portfolio of life?
Is it still possible to rearrange?
In a splurge to purge
are you dry reaching
… for change?
With all the ugliness
of gasping greed,
that never ending need
at all costs to succeed,
there’s a streaming explosion
of abstract division.
Could you do
with some mindful rest,
unified with the heavenly best.
Would you know it
when it hits you in the chest?
Are you overdue
for a true breakthrough?
To be thoroughly blessed?
To breathe
the breath of life.
Sick and tired
of a wild goose chase?
There is a place
flowing with mercy and grace.
Do you know the address
where peace of mind
comes with serenity 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,
to the foundation
of least resistance?
Regeneration
beyond mere existence
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.
Eternal perfection
just out of reach.
To find true significance,
without the deception
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 the truest 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?
Two seconds till midnight.
The end of time
coming down the line
. . . coming into sight.
In a world of darkness and stife
Truth will be your only proof
of eternal life.
Best reach out for the light.
Dark moves are afoot
to put you under the boot
of Globalised Might.
Are you just waiting
for a sign
to know ahead of time
what’s going down?
Along with all
the rebellious rabble
are you climbing up
the wrong ladder
to the New Improved
and Genetically Modified
Tower of Babel?
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 really going on?
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 Hollywood starlets,
pop idols, and false prophets.
All left for dust
to rust
in their Marilyn Mansions
of extreme self indulgence.
Or to rot in the tomb
whilst sleeping restlessly
with dark spirits of gloom.
What would those
celebrity atheists
know of all this?
Yet they never cease
preaching to us!
What would I know of this,
you may well ask.
I was salvaged
from a sea of garbage
by the One they say
doesn’t even exist.
At a crossroad
all too real
I was offered
a supernatural deal
I could not resist.
Far apart from deals dirty
and uberstitious flights of fancy
that seem to have no end.
Couldn’t you use
a true loving friend
… just for a change?
One second to midnight.
With true peace of mind
of the celestial kind
will you be ready for the fight?
Have you invited Jesus Christ
in power, and in person,
into your heart?
Sweet, neat, and complete
… with a love resurrection.
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 to terrorise you,
with crimes of design,
into just playing along.
So lift your eyes
and harmonise
with a band leader true.
Who will see you right,
and clear through,
into the light.
Who won’t steer you wrong
with some dead beat
Charlie Manson song.
In a world of reaction
could you use some
remedial action
whilst your pendulum
is still in motion?
Are you in need of some
soul stirring locomotion
for cutting through
all of this world’s
soul destroying commotion?
To realign with a righteous
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,
be now and forever
spoken.
Free and unchained …
expressing
reflecting
as light through the prism
… of Change.
Words & Images:
~ David B. Redpath © 2018-20
Ohhhhhh!
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…with great fear and trepidation, Rita.
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and profound consciousness, David
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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
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❤️
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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.
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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.
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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
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From someone who has truly been
through the darkest wilderness and
desert places, your thoughts
regarding my writing, are of great
worth to me.
Thank you, Blind & Zany One.
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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
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Dear Zany One,
keep on writing
your own sacred song.
Then sing it loud
and sing it strong.
In Christ Jesus
you can’t go wrong.
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You just made me cry lol.
Thank you.
I am still working my way through your poetry.
Your words have made my day.
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the Iceman
on the run
from something new
under the sun
I love this.
No, I don’t think it’s ever late for change.
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Thanks Bojano.
I’m locked in a donger
somewhere south
of the equator, but
I am so glad you concur.
I think, perhaps,
I remember now,
where I hid the key 🔑!?
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Should I laugh now?
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There should also
always be time to laugh.
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The sands of Mars and Saturn approve this message…
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From the solarium
of my heart ❤
thanks for your
planetarium blessing.
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Oh wow… yeah. This is wonderful.
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Thank you, Tara,
from the land of the Caribou.
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Wow. Awesome poem. Lots of layers…
I suck at poetry. Sarcastic one-liners is more my speed. Heh.
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I thought that’s what I was doing?
Sarcasm is the highest form
of flattery.
Thanks for the long haul
reading, Victoria.
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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.
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A cover band once told
me that imitation is the
highest form of rip-off.
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Good point!
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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”.
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Thanks Chris for taking
your most discerning time.
You read my line just fine.
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Glad to hear it. 😀
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Most welcome,dear!! In my blog palace with love.😊🌹🌹🌹🌹
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Very hospitable of you, Aruna.
No more ‘lonely author’ then!?
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🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔😊😎
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Wonderful poem.amazing lines”could be,should be;;The spirit challenge me-CHANGE…….”,Beautifuly weaven by amaging words like GEMS.
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Thank you very much, Aruna.
I did try to put some sparkle in.
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Most welcome,dear!!🌹
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Such a lovely piece…
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Thank you, Priscilla.
I appreciate that.
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So many powerful words, but lacking I am, a true response to them…
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Taking the time to be reading
is all the response I be needing.
Thanks Bluey.
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The name is Wayne if anyone is listening
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Roger that, Wayne.
I guess I wouldn’t want to
be referred to as “Bloggery”!
But then, it has a certain ring
to it … “Blue Bloggery”?
Even better.
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Better than Blue Buggery, I guess
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A whole lot better!
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Your first line just reels the reader in. I may have missed some allusions but your poems always move me David.
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Thank you very much, Punam, for conveying that.
A poetic vision, to smooth
the groove, and even possibly
to move mountains.
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Oh, your words can certainly move mountains! I can see the man behind the words and have come to respect his thought process.
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Then you can see me blushing
(in a manly fashion, of course).
Thank you very much for your
kind words, Punam.
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There is nothing wrong in blushing David. You are kindly welcome.😊
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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.
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Thanks Paul.
Without a doubt,
the true rebel
with a cause viable,
needs to be a bit
. . . antisocial.
And to revel
without a pause.
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Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
This is poetry. Please read and enjoy.
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Thank you kindly, John Coyote.
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You are welcome my friend.
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A wonderful and powerful poem. A worthwhile read.
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Much appreciated, John.
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A true gift David, I haven’t read a narrative such as this since …god, Henley. Hats off on this stunning poetry.
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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)
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Just wonderful. Henley would have nothing but praise . Thank you 😊
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Thanks Holly,
for the incentivation.
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My pleasure
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This is intense and immense! I appreciate the part where you mix nature nurture with fame and game. Both psychology and buddhism. My ways of viewing the world. Change is ballistic!
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Thanks Luiza
for catching
the high-speed train
of my ‘praying mantra’.
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👏
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And the art was hypnotising. I nearly forgot I came here to read something. It reminds me of something out of The Never Ending Story… I think. Nice one
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Thanks Luiza.
I’m longing for a bavarian
trip … to Berchtesgaden.
Unfortunately, David Bowie
will not be coming along.
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Hahha good one. I love how you connect our dots! 😘💞
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Keep making them dots,
Luiza, for I’m seeing spots.
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That got me thinking. Seeing spots. What does it mean? No dots. Lack of connection. I get it now. I think
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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.
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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.
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I’ve always liked Jung’s thinking,
being a card carrying member
of the collective
unconscioussness.
But perhaps, Lacanianism
is to psychology,
what Dali is to surrealism.
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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.
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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.
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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!
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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.
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Thank you Luiza.
When it comes Longfellow,
I think you’d have to get the book.
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You have excelled yourself…..once again!
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Thank you very much, for taking the journey with me.
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Reading your poetry makes me feel like someone’s actually seen my mind. You have an amazing gift.
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Thanks for dropping in.
Yes, new creation is
an eye opening thing.
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this is a really great poem…I will repost it on my blog.May many more appreciate your words..I love how deep thought emerges!
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Thank you muchly,
Frangipani Lady.
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I love the penicillin of the soul…
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Yes, when stuck in some spiritual hole,
change is an antibiotic for the soul 💊
Away from worldly infection,
and towards the true lovin’ light.
A step in the right direction ✔️
Thanks for reading, Dwight 😎
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Very good!
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You are welcome!
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Brilliant !!!
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Merci beaucoup, Madeleine 🙏
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David, you just said everything that’s in my heart. Thanks for being the light.
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Greatly appreciated, Nadine.
I had to dig deep with this one.
To dig, and keep on digging?
… That is the question.
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That is indeed exactly the question. Or to sit and shine. Or to rise and soar, with one eye always on the ground…
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It is best to be firmly grounded
when you try to kiss the sky 💋
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😄😊👌in that case, “excuse me, while I…” 💋🌤
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Be sure to let your freak flag fly 🏴☠️
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I was busy with a monkey tribe when I read this, but this comment made my day, and made me say, “ahahahaha, yes!
Time to raise the freak flag back on high!”
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This took forever to read but was worth it. Man!
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Thanks for persisting, Bharath.
Greatly appreciated 🙏
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I had to. I was hooked.
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Very pleased the bait worked 👌😎
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Bravo👍
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Teşekkür ederim, Cengiz 🙏
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A long and beautiful illustration !!! Very inspiring and engaging as well. Beautifully written ❤️❤️
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Thank you very much 🙏
After going out on a limb 🐈 your
comment is greatly appreciated 💛
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Amazing…. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=yv5xonFSC4c
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Thanks … One of my many
favourites of BMW’s 😎
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From “geriatric punks” 🎸
to sacred songs 🎶
The countdown is on, ⏳
an’ I’m singin’ along.
What a beautiful poetic compendium 🤩💛
for the still-young years of this new millennium. 👯♂️👯♀️✨
Loving the images too btw…
vraiment superbe. 🌅🗽🎨🖌
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The safety pins
of yesteryear’s
punk fashion
now being used
to keep those
adult diapers on 😎
Thanks for spending the
Iso occasion to be readin’
my wee little offering 💛
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Hey don’t knock my
Billy (Idol), his billy’s
far from boiled yet. ;)) 😜
Always a pleasure to read
your hearty offerings;
they truly make a meal
fit for kings. 💛🎶🙏
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Anyone who rebel yells, at
a white wedding, is King 👑
(despite the Mexican marching
powder subtext to that song 😎)
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Ooh, now you’ve got me
intrigued for the subtext,
did not know about
that other aspect. 🧐🇲🇽🤓
I was actually going to write
“wheat kings” 🎶👱♂️🕶🌾
in that last comment,
but upon quick research
felt the meaning of *that* song
didn’t fit. So Tragically,
my comment wasn’t quite
as Hip. 🤩✌️👯♂️🇨🇦
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You’d have to go to the old
Urban Dictionary to discover
the subtle lyrical intricacy 👁️
of that White Wedding, Lia.
And I always have a sip
of rose hip tea🌹🍵
when reading your groovy ✌️
psychedelic commentary 🌈 😎
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🌹🍵😭👌🥰😋🙏
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Wow!! Brilliant!! Your flow reminded me of Rap. Excellent!
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A flood full of thank you, Wanda 🌊
Sometimes I just can’t help mystery.
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You’re welcome
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WOW. That was a roller-coaster ride. Have mercy. Well said. You are a true poet. I’m not big on most poetry but, YOU draw me in, like the cliffhanger to a movie. Just…awesome…
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We have that in common, Vic,
as I’m not big on poetry either.
And my wife, Linda, would much
prefer I do a haiku a bit shorter 😎
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LOL! But, you get on a roll and…ROLL with it, Baby!
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🙏 🌊 🌀 🎱 👍 💛
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I just figured out that I read this poem back in August 2018, just shortly after I returned to blogging. I forgot all about it. Thanks for the revisit! 💘🤗🤩😎
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Déjà vu is better the second time
around, Vic 😎 Thanks for taking
the time to read again 🙏
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*hugs*
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“Saving the planet
will be the sugar-coated pretext
for the next tightening of the net…”
Chilling words. You are a master at mixing and mingling evocative images to create something new.
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Thanks for the creative character
reference, Anna 🙏 I hope I never
need use it in self defence 😎
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Excellent and impressive
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Greatly appreciated, Angelo 🙏
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Wow! The way your words tie so much together is truly a gift. David, thanks for sharing these images of change as we walk unchained into another tomorrow.
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My perennial pleasure, Buckeye.
Yes … in the arms of the Saviour,
beyond all worldly power and
greed, we are free indeed.
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You’ve produced such a vision of our ages and the illusion of the cyberworld vs. real world can have on us all and bring about such chaos all around. At least that’s how I interpret your brilliant poetic soul. Love this David.
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“I am the wisest man alive,
for I know one thing, and that is
that I know nothing.” ~ Socrates
Thanks for the translation, Charlie.
I try not to express fashions, nor
fleeing opinions, and start with the
simple truth that I know nothing.
The end result being I have no idea
what I’m writing 😎
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Socrates quote is the best…and I’ve always wanted to use it as an example myself.
Bless you my friend.
True. We are wise at our own but we truly know nothing.
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deep & beautiful… keep writing
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Thanks for reading 🙏
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My pleasure 🙋💛
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😱🤯😤😶😅🙃♥️. Nicely done!
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Thank muchly, Doree 🙏👁️💥😎
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Sometimes communicating through emojis is the only way 🥰…
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Yes 🎱 The English language ☔
has limitations 🌈 ♾️ 💎🎁👁️🔮💟
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Perfectly stated 👏🧠🤗
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This is amazing. So emotive. So many pictures and metaphors. And so many layers. What a gift you have. Thanks for sharing it with us.
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My poetic pleasure to share some
positivity, hopefully constructively,
for a change 😎 Thanks for taking
the time to read 🙏
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I like the visuals, David, but find it increasingly difficult to read your poems because there are way too many references to Christianity in them, and I am not a Christian, and never will be! I think writing that is overtly biased in favour of an author’s personal religious beliefs and convictions should be avoided. Everyone has some cross or other to bear, but most keep it private. In any case, we, you and I, live in the secular West, and religious superstition isn’t relevant in our modern scientific and technologically advanced world. Sorry if this seems somewhat brutal, David.
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“Truth exists; only lies are invented.”
~Georges Braque
Stake my future
on a hell of a past
Looks like tomorrow
is a coming on fast
Ain’t complaining
about what I got
Seen better times
but who has not
Silvio silver and gold
Won’t buy back the beat
of a heart grown cold
Silvio I gotta go
Find out something
only dead men know
Honest as the next jade
rolling that stone
When I come and knockin’
don’t throw me no bone
I’m an old boll weevil
looking for a home
If you don’t like it
you can leave me alone
I can snap my fingers
and require the rain
From a clear blue sky
and turn it off again
I can stroke your body
and relieve your pain
And charm the whistle
off an evening train
Silvio silver and gold
Won’t buy back the beat
of a heart grown cold
Silvio I gotta go
Find out something
only dead men know
Give what I got
until I got no more
I take what I get
until I even the score
You know I love you
and further more
When it is time to go
you got an open door
I can tell your fancy
I can tell your plain
You give something up
for everything you gain
Since every pleasure’s
got an edge of pain
Pay for your ticket
and don’t complain
Silvio silver and gold
Won’t buy back the beat
of a heart grown cold
Silvio I gotta go
Find out something
only dead men know
One of these days
and it won’t be long
Going down the valley
and sing my song
Gonna sing it loud
and sing it strong
Let the echo decide
if I was right or wrong
Silvio silver and gold
Won’t buy back the beat
of a heart grown cold
Silvio I gotta go
Find out something
only dead men know
~ Bob Dylan / Hunter Robert
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Yes, truth, but what is truth? Then, what sort of truth? What did Braque mean by truth? Truths also are invented. What do I mean? Beliefs in the minds of men. Men assume this truth, that truth, and never, or only very seldom, search hard or dig deep. Under the face of truth, behind the veils of truth, beyond all truth. Why is it we feel in our bones that there is no truth? Nihil. Why dig for that which doesn’t exist? Vanity. We know nothing yet we strut around full of conceits, full of witticisms, chattering endlessly.
The Grateful Dead, eh! A great name for a now merely legendary outfit. What does it mean? Jerry Garcia. California. Band. Psychedelia. Stanford. CIA. Back then. History. Lies.
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Powerful, David. The imagery you choose, also, amplifies your poetry. ❤
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The volume dial
often seems
just beyond my grasp.
So I’m left with no choice
but to give it a blast 🎤🔊 😎
Thanks Anna
for the positive feedback 🙏
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Great one !!
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Thank you greatly, Preet 🙏 😎
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I think you’ve written “Howl” for current generation. Do you record your poetry? This one really needs to be recited aloud.
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My howl is but a whimper
in the maelstrom of …
“angelheaded hipsters burning
for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo
in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters
and hollow-eyed and high sat up
smoking in the supernatural darkness
of cold-water flats floating across
the tops of cities contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven … ”
But then, I really appreciate do your
cross-referencing, Liz 🙏
Sadly, my voice has been untuned
from howling at a hungry moon 🎑 😎
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Don’t sell your voice short, my friend. It’s needed.
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My long suffering wife, Linda, just
loves my Bob Dylan imitation, Liz.
It drives here crazy 😱
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Ha ha!
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I couldn’t help but just go on reading. Wow!!!
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Thanks for perseverin’, Christin 🙏😎
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An epic gospel call…thanks for letting Imago Dei shine through!
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My illuminated pleasure, Lynn
Thanks for reading 🙏
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Definitely worth my time 🙂
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I read, I see, I feel and suddenly I’m living in the piece. I love how you do this.
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“Reality only reveals itself when it
is illuminated by a ray of poetry.”
~ Georges Braque
Thanks for reading, Diane.
I guess that by plumbing the depths
of a poem written from the heart,
you’re left with a piece of the writer’s
soul. Like a reflected trace from the
mirrored surface of spirit simpatico.
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😊 thank you for sharing.
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