With more skat
than a stray cat
can poke his eyeballs at
the punk
in the Midnight Choir
starts to twist and shout
Yet …
the All in All
all too beautiful
for even a bird on a wire
to sing about
Like that
concert hall in Vienna
where your lips
were so warm and wet
Getting a feel
of the real deal
… that love thing
Upon a mission
a royal commission
seeking foremost
the rock solid Kingdom
It all starts from within
Seizing the living moment
Best be in it
to win
And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song
To find truth
without love
or at least a trace
of faith and hope
like trying to climb
the highest peak
of Mount Everest
naked
without oxygen
or even a rope
Not saying it can’t be done
but man …
sounding much like
a clanging gong
in the Temple
of a world gone wrong
Or have I found
that love thing?
From the mire
of the dire basement
that we’re standing in
try as you might
to sight the heavens
across the endless skies
Far better
in the light
seeing the world
through heaven’s eyes
Heart and Soulful
Holy Mindfulness
is the rightful place
where we all belong
And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song
I too
have tried
in my way
to be free
If it be your will
then let it be
Yet
here on earth
they sentenced me
to forty years of mayhem
for spying
the celebrants
of sin
Tell me
where does
this world end
and the next begin?
Because
I don’t like your
toxic culture mister
And I don’t like
the choir
you’re singing in
I don’t like Big Brother’s
twisted little sister
The King
of everything
He’s coming back
He’s coming to reward them
The King of hearts
and minds
the Prince of Peace
returning
But first
we seek the Kingdom
Then let freedom ring
And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song
I’ve been buried
and I’ve been dug up
I call it grace amazing
You called it dumb luck
And thank you
for those items
that you sent me
The stone monkey
and the ink
under my skin
I’ve tunnelled
towards the light
and now I’m ready
First
we occupy the Kingdom
then
let the revolution begin
Yes … Jesus was a sailor
when he walked upon the water
Seeking the lost at sea
and the drowning
The stranger
the gambler
and me
And Leonard Cohen
he’s sailing on
to the Tower of Song
Through all
the rise and fall
the pulp fiction
from hell’s kitchen
I really like
to walk
that tightrope, baby
I really like
to hear
those Sirens sing
But to see that nightmare
of deception
prowling through creation
Jesus told us
yes he told us
Kingdom starts with
Remember me?
I use to to live
without rhyme or reason
Remember me?
I plugged your Hi-Fi in
You loved me as a loser
You’d hate
to ever see me win
With Christ Jesus
my ship has finally
come in
No longer tied
to a kitchen chair
With a Glory
and a broken Hallelujah!
But first
we take the Kingdom
Losing it all to win
And Leonard Cohen
he’s moved on
to the Tower of Song
I’m counselled
by a whisper
from the heavens
Once I was blinded
by visions in a spin
Now it’s …
So long Chicken Maryland
That frozen turkey
who nearly did me in
For now I’m guided
by the beauty of creation
and a thirst
for the Kingdom
where I first heard
those angels sing
Jesus told us
yes he told us
Kingdom begins within
And Leonard Cohen
he’s singing along
from the Tower of Song
~ by David B. Redpath © 2017-20
Artwork;
‘La Musica Sacra’
~ by Luigi Mussini
Photography:
David B. Redpath © 2017-20
David Redpath 
a life of shadows
condorlike adults
chance encounters
shower room parades
one address, beach side
Placebo Town, Palm Beach
LikeLike
June overlooking her husband
Johnny and a guitar
no factory line
no coal mine
just a tune
or two
(+) something for supper other than squirrel (+)
Johnny so old
has to be squeezed
to pass the cornbread
Johnny so lame
no strings on
his guitar
LikeLike
Uncle Jack
a beloved elder
of my tribe
the Snorta Snorta
has passed on
to the Never Never
where he walks the Dream Time
We all recognised the omen when
a pet kangaroo killed it’s owner
Uncle Jack was the Medicine Man
who first diagnosed me
with Intermittent Explosive Disorder
and then miraculously cured me
with a strict course of opiate addiction
and a nuclear egg timer
When it came to pharmacology
and psychology
Uncle Jack was the master tactician
He will be sorely missed
by all of Snorta Snorta’s drug users
Each and every one of them
hidden out of mind and out of sight
in public housing
now deeply mourning him
with one last rousing rendition of
Uncle Jack Will Get You High at Night
During the heartfelt singing
I gazed up to the sky and saw
Uncle Jack looking down smiling
He cared nothing about
my cultural appropriation
as it was he who initiated me
as a Snorta Snorta tribe member
for the price of a beer and a cigarette
LikeLike
a pair of ratty flip-flops
a pet kangaroo that died
looking up at the sky
the dead are smiling
new arrangements
plot twists
adding to yourself with teardrops and spit
buy your wife a new bra, symmetry
LikeLike
Michael with questions:
ORGASMIC CONSISTENCY
no one to participate in the normal
head doctor quotes, “juvenilization”
visions of genderless bicycle seats
genital pressures retained, reverted
LikeLike
ad in paper:
“adequate woman wanted”
(+) hairless breasts
(+) visible genital slit
LikeLike
David Bowie on TV (Blackstar)
illness by memory and association
rehearsing death over and over again
Michael critique sessions always stormy
dicks, the library lesbians, simple sodomy
alcoholics complain about going public
the love of drugs, having a night porter
LikeLike
Robert Frost quote:
“If you reach a fork in the road
turn around and return home”
—————-
—————-
sodomy: appreciation into participation
savor the anguish, it will vanish
blink at the senior citizen
bagging your groceries
let him know
you understand
he is facing fear
of uncertainty
vulnerable
and exposed
dragging hurts
LikeLike
In my daily routine
Executives executing
Managers managing
To sell things
Flip-flops
Undergarments
Tattoos and nose rings
On the pavement
Where reality stings
With the art
Of concealment
Everything all the same
In my dreams
I’m hacking
The mainframe
Of a metaverse
Computer game
Where pieces
Of Noah’s Ark
And the remnants
Of Eden’s garden
Digitally photographed
Are being downloaded
By some nerd with no name
The password is always
Just out of my grasp
The Dream Time Kingdom
Is not for the tame
It is taken by force
That spirit of boldness
Always strong
Going headlong
Against the grain
In my daily routine
Broken lives fighting
Against the drain
Or forsaken
Just surrendering
To the never ending pain
LikeLike
in my daily routine
I only see humans from a distance
a machine answers the phone
there is a backup if it fails
I go outside to shop
never the same grocery
clerks ask to marry me
strangers offer me their funds
it gets complicated/difficult
(+) the night porter drops me off at the door
LikeLike
whilst driving
the next door neighbour’s
pubescent daughter
each morning to school
she insists on doing
mischievous little things
that would make
even a dead man drool
her knees in the air
all of the time
as I’m trying hard
to concentrate on driving
tying up her shoe laces
pulling up her socks
and adjusting her knickers
even plucking
her bikini line
with a pair of rusty tweezers
all the while giggling
I don’t know how much longer
till I just have to pull over
and give her
a damn good spanking
would she beg me to quit
or ask me to keep on going?
Is it a risk worth taking?
sadly … I think not
but then
her widowed mother
keeps on asking me
to join her for supper
around here
things have got a load harder
since her unfortunate husband
the accident prone Viking
went off to war
leaving a sex starved wife
and a very promiscuous daughter
LikeLike
dragging hurt
from room to room
dragging hurt outdoors
openly showing your pain
mental (ass chafe) health
competing for attention
LikeLike
truck stop showers:
—plenty of grooming
—plenty of stroking
the natives no longer throw spears
they hurl insults/abusive language
the consequences of being selfish
highly visible
LikeLike
these days
the more things free-range
deranged and strange
the more tangible the danger
these days
anything can be arranged
with a handful of small change
just make
an unreasonable offer
these days
the less you give
the more they take
of your sizeable karma
these days
everyone is on the make
even the nightly news is fake
reality is what’s left over
LikeLike
when Adam stood up
Eve spied his Branch of Life
God is the Tree
Adam the Branch
———–
———–
dreams of angry chainsaws
sharp blades galore
LikeLike
those Sarmatians are at it again
barbarians pillaging the temples
marauding Costoboci
desecrating the inner sanctum
and taking all our sacred objects
away with them
a plague on all their houses
or whatever caves they dwell in
the more things change …
LikeLike
PANDEMONIUM
constant agitation
swollen vulva red hot
“You with issues of control”
(girl slit on the other side of the car)
your hands on the steering wheel
nostrils wet with the fumes
the past swept away
now, opportunity
another chance
LikeLike
LikeLike
PRISON
if you so much
as look at jagged edges
jail time with no release
dread of being alive
a succulent under water
constant shade, rape, sodomy
(+) transport without signature
LikeLike
my little Lolita
could not be any sweeter
a spoonful of medicine
helps the sugar go down
in a frenzied lap dance
as the Ritalin® slips in
there’s nothing quite like
an oral methylphenidate
a pleasurable spank
of antidepressants
with no underpants
the unmistakeable aroma
of jail bait on heat
now lingers
upon driven fingers
in the back seat of my car
one small dose of her potion
could land me in prison!
did l drive this thing too far?
or Is it just a figment
of my fevered imagination
in need of urgent sedation?
LikeLike
100 people had the same thought
NO UNDERPANTS
it wasn’t me
I know of contrasts
and substitutes
I avert my gaze
protuberant
hemispherical breasts
hairless knockers
it wasn’t me
I know of contrasts
and substitutes
LikeLike
It seems just like the other day
sniffing petrol with my tribe, an
ancient ritual of the Snorta people,
when Uncle Jack began to prophesize
“One thousand may fall to your left,
ten thousand may fall to your right,
all without underpants, but be sure
to ask humbly for Multiple Michael ‘s
forgiveness, and prosperous will be
your life amongst the Snorta Snorta.
As long as you remember to keep
your hands off the dead neighbour’s
daughter … and his young wife.”
LikeLike
Nick Cave sings, “look for me”
as someone turns up the microwave
the glow, the sound, circles around Nick
a lock on each word, a lock without key
bird tracks written on moving clouds
talent obvious but ART not so much
LikeLike
Jimi Hendrix in overdose
David Bowie on IMAX
Nick Cave arising from the grave
Art monetised and sanitised
Don’t forget to sing while you save
and to pay your Placebo Town taxes
Once it’s gone you’ll never get it back
that unmistakeable sound
of a dying breed born of a bad seed
as homogeneous is now the new black
LikeLike
her part opened slightly
a fat knob begging entrance
leaking semen, terrible thorns
she recalled the handbook warning
“RUN SISTER, RUN”
better anticipation till death
covered with teats
no place to go
LikeLike
It’s Spring
down under
flower festivals
here and there
Summer coming
Summer loving
already in the air
like a premature orgasm
Moondoggie surfing
all rigid with Gidget
near naked
with no underwear
Summer fun
living without a care
just as it must’ve been
in the Garden of Eden
that’s me in the corner
wishing I was there
LikeLike
the restless eyes overlooking Placebo Town
those who commit fornication
Yes, commit fornication
against the Lord
the mighty sting of the penis
sperm attached to splinters
from the Holy Cross
sisters polluted
and defiled
blood
outside the body
hindrance turned red
LikeLike
the Placebo Town Floriade
a festival of flowers hungry
and dangerous
is blooming
in all it’s springtime glory
with the blood of innocence
the High Priest Horticulturist
blessed the event
with a toast to the Floral Beast
followed by a carnivorous feast
of things spawned
in mysterious compost
don’t miss it or you’ll be sorry
there’s a ravenous venus flytrap
with your name on it
and a black tulip
tipped with curare
whether you want it or not
LikeLike
(+) flesh, a byword for perfection (+)
clay covered puppets
tantalizing resemblance
to the parents He never had
God in a circle/no where to hide
LikeLike
visions one cannot describe
Heaven
those on vacation
others EMPLOYED
from direct cognition
to shapes without substance
“pray ye direct intuition of God”
LikeLike
the collective unconsciousness
is a way for Placebo Town
to know itself
a temporal phantasm
floating in a sea of forgetfulness
LikeLike
100 Sundays
in September
holding the Ladder
first Adam and Eve climb down
evil weighed to the soil by mountains
grappling hooks holding back sinners
I tell those on the way up,
“nothing simple about unmediated vision”
LikeLike
the gateway to the feminine body
resting beside the path
the opening denies
entrance
some say that the Queen was Lady Poverty
a clean, well-scented mother harlot
she who mounted the Cross
with Christ
she who joined in sexual union
with a high spiritual dignity
modern art, Expressionism
(+) infant Michael sucking the bosom of Poverty
LikeLike
Michael holding the ladder
100 Sundays in September
souls loudly begging
upstairs/downstairs
those coated in clay
taking the bitter
for the sweet
LikeLike
clay can be made
into many useful things
pots, cups, ashtray, and bowls
given a good firing in the oven
it can even be shaped into molds
for casting things golden
and beyond careless destruction
LikeLike
photographs of Michael sucking the bosom of Poverty
kindled inspiration
spontaneous understanding
every hungry adult, starving child
predators who rip and swallow their young
boundaries between
the old and the new covenants
fade away in the darkness of night
LikeLike
“Wie Muttermilch!?”
the sweetest lesbian librarian
a strict Germanic disciplinarian
asked of me as she had me
in a foetal position
My philosophical reply
whilst sucking my thumb
was that I know absolutely nothing
except the taste of domination
was corrupting and edifying
all at the same time
It wasn’t exactly poetic
but it got the job done
to both our satisfaction
Meanwhile outside
. . . as inside a tiny cavity
all of creation was imploding
A child of the razor’s edge
sucking from the bosom of eternity
LikeLike
ask yourself, “why are you eating tater tots ?”
when Jesus is having pancakes in Heaven
why at every cheap motel
the sound of horses mating
is never coming from your room
when checking into a flea-bag
my cousin shows them the scar
where he once had a manhood
often he gets a discount
he writes poems
about harvesting tear ducts
being gored by a wild boar
he talks up “Jesus eating pancakes”
Christians ignore him
——DRUGS——
LikeLike
skirting the circling pain
my cousin took his dog
and pick-up truck
to somewhere quiet
and did the Kurt Cobain
my Uncle sent a letter
not a thing written on it
as the words got lost
nothing left to explain
LikeLike
Johnny plays the guitar
June floats above him
as a young boy, Johnny
feared the foreshadowing
of circumcision
rites of violence
when quizzed about his family
he came up blank
“people in Hell
are easily forgotten”
(+) one Christmas, Johnny got a dozen $10 guitars”
LikeLike
dead friends
complain that I failed to love them
Purgatory Atlas
lower the book and go kiss crazy
words aren’t real
but hungry lips, Yes
knee high in the bee hive
pilgrim girl wet
LikeLike
I tell my wife that there are no females in Heaven
after all these years, she manages to get angry
her Reader’s Digest Bible
soaked in gender bleach
polite (light) religion
females have lost their place in the parade
mothers busy carving their names
punching the clock
pumpkin spice
ice tea crotch
LikeLiked by 1 person
the coming
was so hard
and penetrating
with gleeful relief
that barriers were broken
to a future hidden
underneath a distant horizon
with seeds erupting
as joyful weeping
awoke the unspoken
loving fruitful
from ending to beginning
generously flowing
with spurts of pure rhythm
LikeLike
others pass swiftly
but not Michael
through the midst
of the sorrowing city
human litter and little else
“Mommy, that man is not complete”
LikeLike
I am famous
laboring in the wilderness
and Jesus asks me to share
I give him my last biscuit
my single swig of water
I am famous
sometimes I see
the shadow of the giant
but never the giant himself
he that is elevated up above all
it is maintained that he is the Church
Antichrist Baby
twisting and shouting
to cryptic Beatle currency
LikeLike
I am infamous
a ghost with no name
at the centre
of the known universe
looking for someone to blame
as everywhere I look
there is heartache and shame
yet I continue to partake
in this God forsaken game
even the music of the spheres
and the taste of angel’s tears
has become rather lame
the once loud and proud
residents of Placebo Town
even the young and rebellious
seem to be broken and tame
diminished economics
shrink wrapped in plastic
by the endless politics of pain
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nick Cave:
Robert Frost tossing hippies towards the sun
nothing is more valuable than beauty
nothing is more valuable than love
EVERYBODY HANGING FROM A TREE
screaming horses with their black lungs
common whore monkeys flashing their behinds
full of suspicion and fierce with the need to reproduce
(+) I snap my fingers, twist and shout
LikeLike
shake it up
maybe how
twist and shout
in an empty place
a teenage rampage
leading nowhere
but with style and grace
the surplus
without purpose
of a mindless rat race
checking out
the latest fashions
in Cosmopolitan Magazine
a zeitgeist of waste
like a spurt of jism
floating in outer space
reactions and repercussions
like a squirt of mace
to the face
reaping the reproductions
at the Honeymoon Hotel
where that teenage outrage
at the dark heart
of Rock ‘n’ Roll
has always been on sale
LikeLike
a million moons
first rule: don’t urinate near camp
second rule: use your poop as bait
third rule: don’t sleep in a nest
the path from grief and misery
where cruel hearts turn tame
who can pronounce its name
LikeLike
Placebo Daily
with a color photo
the woman who climbed on the Christ Cross
Lady Poverty
the Queen of Modern Art
the Mother of Words
look closely at Adam
her seal bright red
(+) a loud pop as Adam was pulled from her bosom
LikeLike
I angered the crowd
when I pointed out that Christ was her first husband
Lady Poverty spread thin
sufferings
not only for love
but also the desire for more
———
———
———
in the shadow of our hero’s death
Poverty, her woman part wide open
LikeLike
From the safety
of great distance
witnessing
the civil unrest
even the martyrdom
of those brave enough
in the name of freedom
to stand up
again oppression
In their place
would Iran far away?
Would I have a choice?
Is the curtain
coming down
on Placebo Town?
Is it time to flee
or pass around
the ammunition
join the rebellion
and rejoice?
LikeLike
In the shadow of a minaret
Mahsa Amini
her head cracked wide open
from behind a black shroud
Our Bleeding Lady of Slavery
a martyr for the angry crowd
demanding more freedom
No love from their God
Leaders demanding submission
ruling from above
high on a minbar
with an iron age rod
LikeLike
the lady at the library
confessed to me
that we were living
seedtime
dumb to harvest
Michael
living seedtime
dumb to harvest
LikeLike
gleaning in the barren pastures
of Placebo Town
after a harvest of wrack ‘n’ ruin
as the Earth itself
convulses and ruptures
Our Lady of Poverty manifests
riding a hurricane’s crest
with lightning bolts of wrath
shooting from her breasts
breathes her last and expires
then suddenly I wake up
. . . it’s time for breakfast
LikeLiked by 1 person
haunting words:
+(living seedtime, dumb to harvest)+
returning home
the parents
rotating
an odd
velocity
corrupt
—–
—–
kindred physical and spiritual natures
therein and therein alone living seedtime
LikeLike
so shall I be scattered
a man without child
in want of the ladder
in fear of the wrestle
a high class ape
a nocturnal
addict
LikeLike
Pain is at the heart of addiction
Life itself is at the heart of pain
“You know, the only thing
that kills the demon … is love.”
~ Mickey Knox
“We’ve heard that a million monkeys
at a million keyboards could produce
the complete works of Shakespeare;
now, thanks to the Internet, we know
that is not true.”
~ Robert Wilensky
“People grow when they are loved
well. If you want to help others heal,
love them without an agenda.”
~ Mike McHargue
LikeLike
I went outside in the hurricane
and friends feared for me
after all, it wasn’t to be
just a simple storm
not Yahweh
——incessant nocturnal wakefulness——
flooded by memories
travels unspoken
my night porter
my hero
LikeLike
I am not required to complete the work
—-never free to desist from it—-
Placebo City
the frontier between the sacred and the profane
with all the Michaels, Michael seems empty
all sounds and sights are evidence of a search
blessings hidden like Easter eggs
to share love, to share more love
LikeLike
the Gambler
and the Dealer
the storm raging
the waters surging
Mother Nature
a cleansing enema
the Lover
and the Stranger
a sacrament
from the Labyrinth
of the Holy Enigma
for the Guest to rest
only the very best
the Traveller
and the Night Manager
the name of the game
Fight or Flight
Inclement weather?
Yes … we deliver!
the Drifter
and the Reaper
LikeLike
God: whenever and wherever, often late or not at all
revenge driven, never to submit or yield
LikeLike
after a final meal
at the Pink Elephant
with all the doors
and windows boarded up
I made my last stand
floating face down
in the Boca Grande bayou
as the causeway
to the mainland
had been swept away
I dare say
this is the last time
I neglect to evacuate
who knew?
who could tell
that a hurricane
named Ian
a shit storm
from the Caribbean
would come this way
hitting the fan
blowing us all to hell?
perhaps I should’ve stayed
all safe and warm
at the Honeymoon Hotel?
LikeLike
God grazes on the organic Alps
no mention of upbringing
punishes his children
his observation
servants
LikeLike