The Tower of Song

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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

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2,281 thoughts on “The Tower of Song”

  1. the poet’s deepest self
    in search of a subject
    fragments at best
    departures
    myths and folktales
    Dollar Store Bible virtues
    to never detour one’s own interest
    to cultivate the right inside the Law
    the social ladder
    where magazine people reside
    they harbor contaminations of respectability
    giving it to one another from behind like dogs

    Liked by 1 person

    1. heavy with the mock and shock
      doing some stand-up comedy
      at the poetry workshop
      where an expulsion in short pants
      is a constant threat
      all covered in that scent
      ‘Vajayjay Spray … by Britney’
      Good God Almighty! … free at last
      to express kindness
      from in front and behind
      If only she’d learnt how to dance
      with daddy there to hit her
      one more time
      Who’s your daddy now, baby, baby?
      Please tease and squeeze
      my governorship blind
      . . . if you’d be so kind
      a broken shipwreck
      upon the cheap seats of Las Vegas
      is my spearheaded destiny of crime

      Like

  2. is it an ill wind that delivers intellectuals to poetry workshop ?
    so often that which separates the poet from average life
    aggressive bedroom language that cheapens
    tenderness and compassion
    affection pieced together
    for the time being
    (+) the thing to fear: occasional sex

    Liked by 2 people

    1. in a town called Placebo
      the only thing you have to fear
      is the Placebo itself
      that Mother of All Strife
      who shot down both
      the deputy and the sheriff
      Intellectuals of the pseudo
      romanticise about
      their sexual peccadilloes
      with proud boasts
      of an extended shelf life
      as they all ran after
      the farmer’s wife
      who then cuts off their tails
      with a carving knife
      at poetry workshop
      there’s hardly a dry eye
      left in the house
      after those poets in short pants
      start reciting Robert Frost
      and Sylvia Plath
      in an age old struggle
      of life or death
      always bet on the one
      with the gun
      rather than the sucker
      with a small pen
      and a big mouth
      that’s down to earth
      Placebo Town wisdom
      at it’s very best
      too profound for some?
      … I hazard a guess

      Like

  3. poets smoke THC-8
    legal hemp
    not THC-9
    20 years hard labor in Kentucky
    anyway back to THC-8
    the exact high from 1970
    you can smoke for a hour
    get up and go outside
    and change a flat tire
    current levels of THC-9 in Florida
    three puffs and you’re sofa bound
    unable to watch TV
    too many bad memories
    serious thoughts about calling 911
    panic attacks on the childbirth level

    Liked by 1 person

    1. stepping heart and soul
      into the cannabinoid void
      but rather than empty
      I found it mysteriously filled
      with moving pictures
      whispers and secrets
      like some herbal ouija board
      a spiritual peek into the mystic
      talking all poetic
      to an angelic stranger
      curiouser and curiouser
      only to wake up in a puff of smoke
      with a hand written note . . .

      “You’ll never come back
      the way you went. Good Luck!

      ~ The Night Manager”

      Like

    1. the thirteenth tribe of Placebo
      led by it’s supreme matriarch
      the Sumerian Sun Queen
      marches out of Canaan
      heading straight for Babylon
      no roaming the wilderness
      no Bed & Breakfast at Mount Zion
      no couch surfing in Nazareth
      for the Child Bride Androgynous
      in the Ray-Ban® sunglasses
      who survived being sacrificed
      to Baphomet as a teen
      making a mess of her dress
      with stains yet to come out
      I read all about it at the airport
      in a cosmopolitan magazine

      Like

  4. to copulate and nothing more
    no holding hands
    or baking a cake
    far from those
    who focus on
    disappoint
    disappoint
    disappointment
    socialization: worms in a can
    men who fish have effeminate fingers
    they reanalyze their choice of bait and little else

    Liked by 1 person

  5. you wake up discovering that you are singing the Ave Maria
    perhaps you rolled Mary up into a pillow
    constantly shuffling women
    like playing cards
    insects and childhood trauma
    the homemade girdle around your spout
    E.A. Poe was forced to wear one also
    he was thrust below the human condition
    forced to live like an ape in Eden

    Liked by 1 person

    1. back in the land before time
      where apes growing wings
      and flying off with the fairies
      wasn’t considered such a crime
      I had a sweet painted lady
      her name was Mary
      her tender love
      it nearly killed me
      ever since
      that fragrance of the street
      has never left me
      the sweet aroma
      from livin’ la Placebo loca
      waist deep in the delights
      of the night
      no one much worries
      about what’s wrong
      or what’s right
      I never did mind
      where she got her money
      I was far too busy
      mixing up the medicine
      that leaves you half blind
      somewhere between
      Heaven and Hell
      with no guardian angel
      to point the way home
      we were both so young
      and on the run
      a couple ot teens
      refugees fleeing
      the toxic fumes
      of the kingdom machine
      to a darkened park
      full of diabolical fun
      they found her much later
      in a locked room
      with a loaded gun
      her name was Mary
      her tender love
      it nearly killed me
      ever since
      that fragrance of the street
      has never left me
      the sweet aroma
      from livin’ la Placebo loca

      Like

  6. she said that her heart was lodged in my chest
    trying not to think about the last wretched train wreck
    Karma smacks me daily, my kindness full of wounds, almost undone
    the lips of men excite me, having been forbidden all touch
    four feet six inches and full of quarrelling worms

    Liked by 1 person

  7. rumors about the doors of Heaven being open
    are not true
    street humor about the seat of mercy
    being donated to a thrift store
    what can one say ?
    Satan is everywhere
    often surrounded by cherubic wings
    Bob Dylan (precipitated)
    his faces looking at one another
    pockets full of earth manna
    his pecker budded
    shadowed nearly forgotten
    it was not Dylan who hideth and covereth us
    hideth and covereth us from the wrath of God

    Liked by 1 person

  8. the sign read:
    THOSE ON THE PATH SUFFERING FROM A PSYCHOPATHOLOGICAL STATE OF FANTASY
    SHOULD DISMOUNT AND ASK FOR HELP
    the jugular of marriage
    seems to be prostitution
    sex in exchange for another day
    24 hours from becoming a cast-off
    Daddy has a new mommy
    nipples wrapped in youth
    a saddle-free vulva
    Mommy has a second job
    sofa bound and sad

    Liked by 1 person

  9. someday the children of Noah
    will look back at Earth
    from outer space
    the rectum
    of Disney
    will be
    open
    astronauts
    will suck their own tongues
    tasting themselves in a sexual manner
    astronaut sex is in the manual but in code
    one chapter, “Seeing your father naked”
    Stradivarius was afraid of nude adults
    his stick figure drawings complete
    with overgrown pubic hair
    nasty looking butt cheeks
    incestuous stick figures
    human sandwiches
    STRADIVARIUS

    Liked by 1 person

  10. shoes full of blood
    the jury was tainted
    both sides of the street
    littered with human faults
    casual sex with acquaintances
    a bride-to-be among the drunks
    what a thrill to slip her the sausage
    ignite her crotch and warm my meat

    Liked by 1 person

  11. devils ask for words
    back hallway devils
    elevator devils
    devils standing in long lines to get an autograph
    bootleg STRADIVARIUS, possibly Picasso embroidered
    two lines at the book signing: father living, father deceased
    I asked why and was told, “buzz off Pocahontas”
    I was pushing a wheelbarrow full of Pocahontas
    (+) problematic erections

    Liked by 1 person

    1. a genuine tubular bell
      trumps a placebo violin
      ever since Mike Oldfield
      made that Virgin recording
      for a hungry Richard Branson
      all my friends fell under the spell
      of the tubular bell
      me as well
      it wasn’t what I was drinking
      or whatever I’d been smoking
      it was musical reprogramming
      with headphones plugged in
      and the turntable spinning
      that vinyl opium
      every now and then
      I’ll see someone
      just staring out into space
      a far away look upon their face
      as if in a celestial trance
      and I can tell what’s happening
      for evey day of the year
      I also still hear
      that tubular bell ringing

      Like

  12. bait on the hook
    large breasts
    hot pants
    blond
    Daddy takes a detour
    $50 ready to burn
    a tab of lucid
    a snort
    supper from a can
    microwave shot
    baby size spoon
    Mommy at the second job
    not a single concern
    mister sofa ready
    new batteries
    in the wand
    a look-alike she used to pry open the gap
    deep and deeper till it touched home
    wild wet orgasms alone
    free of conversation

    Liked by 1 person

  13. THAT TUBULAR BELL (S)
    Jesus freaks sprang up
    singing and praying like there was no tomorrow
    symptoms of psychological distress / perspiring
    like a polar bear in Florida in August / trembling
    daydreaming of cuddling and cunnilingus regardless

    Liked by 1 person

    1. LIP GLOSS
      FAIRY FLOSS
      AND OTHER LUBRICANT (S)
      polar bear opposites
      vibrant and young
      trembling in short pants
      ying and yanging
      hysteria in living leather
      words perspiring
      rolling off the tongue
      into love’s endless abyss
      a tubular disappearance
      with bells chiming
      a slow crescendo to come
      the taste of pure bliss

      Like

  14. people say that I’m a liar
    but I was up in the sky
    when the electricity
    got turned off
    eternal night
    I was sitting next to Johnny Cash
    the day they took away his youth
    he tried to strum his guitar
    but it wasn’t possible
    he had claws
    (+) the horned god of common property
    (+) exponents and interpretations of ideas are common property
    the librarian told me, “love is just selfishness”
    love dressed in the skins of gratification
    nude in debauchery
    boil on your dong
    collapsed nut sac

    Like

    1. BAD JUPITER

      that country music
      drives me insane
      since Abby the Spoon Lady
      stuck a fork inside my brain
      she plays her spoons
      … and you play your game
      you give poetry a bad name

      a rash of selfishness
      in a king-sized bed
      fortune and fame
      in peace may they rest
      now Johnny Cash is dead
      … and you’re to blame
      you give poetry a bad name

      Like

  15. always happy to give poetry a bad name
    falling short on the romantic beach walks
    where young lovers hold hands and smile
    Hallmark cards and valentines
    hands on the Reader’s Digest Bible
    sleeping in separate beds and praying
    (+) my favorite hobby, Bad Poetry
    often falling on hikes
    young love spent kissing
    parked cars and hyper hands
    praying I pulled out quick enough

    Liked by 1 person

    1. in Placebo Town
      according to the prophets
      of prosperity theology
      symbiotic love poetry
      makes the common property
      go ’round and ’round
      “I’ll give you a heads up
      when your stock market goes down.”
      In Placebo Town
      there’s a critical race
      against a not guilty verdict
      to keep you’re trigger finger in place
      What goes down
      has a nasty habit of coming around
      and blowin’ up in your face

      Like

  16. Karma
    stick multiple michaels in one body
    cut IT in half
    give IT a vault of cash
    a night porter
    and watch IT explode
    boom, boom, boom
    ————–speaking of music awards
    that Machine Gun Kelly sure is pretty and talented
    someday his works will sit on the shelf next to Robert Frost

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The You Tree
      good old wood
      cut down to size
      dragged inside
      and decorated nicely
      The You Tree
      lush and evergreen
      with a rich grain
      that can be seen
      when you take a branch
      and polish it lightly

      Like

  17. bad poetry is like horseradish
    in so many ways
    I see images of women
    with their mouths open
    and one could park
    a car on the flesh
    between their teeth
    and their upper lip
    bad poetry
    the first time you realize your wife has a mustache
    later in life, bad poetry
    the first time you notice she has breasts on her back

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
      Life is but an empty dream!
      For the soul is dead that slumbers,
      And things are not what they seem.

      Life is real! Life is earnest!
      And the grave is not its goal;
      Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
      Was not spoken of the soul.

      Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
      Is our destined end or way;
      But to act, that each to-morrow
      Find us farther than to-day.

      Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
      And our hearts, though stout and brave,
      Still, like muffled drums, are beating
      Funeral marches to the grave.

      In the world’s broad field of battle,
      In the bivouac of Life,
      Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
      Be a hero in the strife!

      Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
      Let the dead Past bury its dead!
      Act,— act in the living Present!
      Heart within, and God o’erhead!

      Lives of great men all remind us
      We can make our lives sublime,
      And, departing, leave behind us
      Footprints on the sands of time;

      Footprints, that perhaps another,
      Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
      A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
      Seeing, shall take heart again.

      Let us, then, be up and doing,
      With a heart for any fate;
      Still achieving, still pursuing,
      Learn to labour and to wait.

      ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

      Like

  18. that gent Longfellow
    was he the pooch
    that drag his bottom
    across the carpet ?
    “dust to dust”
    what a load of crap
    “footprints on the sands of time”
    the new Machine Gun Kelly hit
    (+) horseradish on my soul: YES
    (+) wasabi on my soul: NO

    Like

    1. My dealer
      the main man
      of Placebo Town
      and Night Manager
      of the Honeymoon Hotel
      uses Uber Eats
      to deliver the drugs
      fresh from Hell’s Kitchen
      He no longer uses Just Eat
      since Snoop the Dogg
      went feral
      like a dog on heat
      and ate all the product
      Such a shame to see
      Snoop had to be
      unceremoniously put down
      Just another rags to bitches
      hard luck story
      from that dirty old city
      called Placebo Town

      Like

  19. POETRY WRITTEN
    poetry written in the restlessness of hell
    in a world of sight and sound
    constant agitation
    Mister Pick-me-up
    and point me
    pull the trigger
    I’ll take care of business
    half-jokingly
    (+) romance by force not reason

    Liked by 1 person

  20. SHINING THAT FLASHLIGHT LIKE A MADMAN
    “return our legs”……… “guide our feet, Lord”
    how shamefully much one needs help
    the young man somehow cast
    into the skins of another
    plural skins for one
    multiple michaels
    the divided self

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The library
      in Placebo Town
      has wheelchair access
      but the books
      are all kept six foot
      above the ground
      The librarian
      has no tolerance
      for complaints
      from the living dead
      as she’s busy
      up to her armpits
      weighing hearts
      with her bestie Anubis
      on the River Styx
      In Placebo Town
      the residents
      drive around
      and around
      in very big cars
      but all they can find
      are tiny car parks
      far too small
      for their bumper bars
      and fat behinds
      In Placebo Town
      The ladies
      of the night
      are rarely kind
      yet willing and able
      to lay their cards down
      if the price is right
      In Placebo Town
      they shake the snake
      under the table
      In Placebo Town
      where nothing matters
      the crying game
      is an angelic thing
      as those Hell’s Angels
      (the local debt collectors)
      know no shame
      and just love the chance
      to inflict some pain

      Like

  21. children with rose tinted cheeks
    caught the seal pups and fed them
    the very best bluegills from Kentucky
    God is no slowpoke
    the thoughts and intents
    of your heart are rapidly digested
    many know the opposite of God’s nature
    bless Sunday School and the Reader’s Digest Bible

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The congealed brethren
      of the Sacred Strangulation
      are just waiting to catch you
      with your short pants down
      It’s a traditional past time
      of fun and shame games
      for the whole congregation
      here in Placebo Town

      Like

  22. upon entering the library
    I immediately journey to the “Passion” section
    it is there one can find promiscuity and alternatives
    sexual beings behaving in a sexual manner
    humans kindled and full of zest
    where love is more not less

    Liked by 1 person

    1. my library card
      was stamped ‘HUMAN’
      and being human
      means doing hard time
      there’s no room for sentiment
      in the darkness
      of the Head Librarian’s basement
      as love is a heinous crime
      within the precincts of Placebo
      beware the secret agents
      who come and go
      in their sexually active wear
      who torment with a love that’s bent
      and without a care
      “Strike another blow
      against your oppressor!”
      since being human
      it’s only natural to do battle
      with the supernatural
      choosing a side to be on
      the soul junkie dependent
      on a lovin’ spoonful
      of heavenly affirmation
      grasping validation from any direction

      Like

    2. THE GOD OF PLACEBO IS EL DIABLO

      In the Altered States of Gomorrah
      It’s not easy to get sanctuary
      as the Church of the Poison Mind
      is just another leper colony
      for the deaf, dumb, and blind
      There’s an idol in Placebo Central
      with a head of gold and feet of clay
      erected by some whore from Babylon
      where the lepers go to pray
      Spirits ready and willing
      as the offerings are preyed upon
      Souls rotting and bodies bleeding
      The Abomination of Desolation Motel
      is a great place for those without grace
      to get some rest and relaxation
      Just don’t make it a final destination

      Well may we say . . .
      “Create in me a clean heart, O God,
      and renew a right spirit within me.”

      Like

  23. they opened the head of Robert Frost
    only to discover it full of mayonnaise
    backed-up sexual juices
    he reeked of spunk
    safety valves
    wide open
    thick jism
    rot was there in his manhood
    a rot that he shared with others
    those fearing the business of living

    Liked by 1 person

    1. without
      a singular doubt
      from anthropological me
      the throbbing clitoris
      hand in glove
      with the spouting penis
      has set the course
      of human history
      upon a stage
      of rebellious rage
      where the blood flows freely
      without so much
      as a “Thank you for your crutch.”
      or even an apology

      Like

  24. Placebo Town
    the realm of absurd apocalyptic fantasy
    moving curtains with no one at home
    paranoid delusions reinforced
    agents knocking on doors
    neighbors wearing Old Spice
    Placebo Town, the Sodom of America
    rotted, toothless America
    agonized grin city

    Liked by 1 person

    1. In Placebo Town
      where flogging a dead horse
      is the sport of paupers and kings
      I was killing time when I found
      that I had empathy with Satan
      yet despite all my crime
      an angelic friend of mine
      paid dearly for my protection
      covering all my bets
      against the House of Placebo Town

      Like

  25. the night porter brought a friend over last evening
    Laurie Anderson (O Superman)
    it was a real joy to visit with her
    she has grown old
    like a (hermit crab) condo dweller
    complete with pants
    made to hold a heavy duty diaper
    she repeatedly asked to see my album collection
    she wanted to verify that we were in a photo together
    was it possible
    that a Michael could have appealed to her finer needs
    could have autographed her imagination
    was it possible
    that a Michael opened her jar

    Liked by 1 person

  26. trim and well-groomed
    a Michael that other apes will approve/admire
    a Michael that has the genius for casting aside fear
    making things go off well, naked rollercoaster highs
    all doubts and questionings out the window
    a Michael whose mind is like my own

    Liked by 1 person

  27. tongues in a dance of passion
    she wanted her tongue to grow long and thick
    to slide back and forth in his mouth until that magic moment
    it slid past all safeguards, sinking deep into his throat
    where it emptied a payload of reproductive snot

    Liked by 1 person

  28. Placebo Town
    where aspiring intellectuals
    nest among the homeless
    life on the streets
    vacation daily
    at the library
    guilty of Harlequin-type reality
    where others have overcome their aversion
    to odors, filthy clothes, moss covered teeth
    the library staff lovingly welcomes one and all
    (+) enjoy being overwhelmed by the Mother Superior

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Biology is a broken book
      in the Placebo Town library
      ‘A Means To The Living End’
      The Head Librarian
      insisted I take a long hard look
      as she put me in handcuffs
      and unslung my hook
      In the background I could hear
      Bob Dylan singing . . .
      “Please release me, let me go,
      for I don’t love you anymore.
      To live a lie would be a sin.
      Release me and let me love again.”
      That Head Librarian
      she did eventually release me
      but things have never
      been the same

      Like

  29. MULTIPLEMICHAEL
    DOUBLE, TRIPLE, QUADRUPLE
    happy as a rooster wearing socks
    people beg me to strip off
    layer after layer
    naked as Adam
    the more I strip away
    the more I subtract
    the more pleasing I become
    my cup empty
    full measure
    (+) the night porter and myself floating over Galilee

    Liked by 1 person

    1. A SIN-GULAR OF MANY COLOURS
      with eyes wide open
      rippling on the surface
      of a space-time continuum
      talking to a stranger
      talking to himself
      contempt for the mundane
      and the unforgiving familiar
      The alienated peculiar
      has my sin-gular attention
      (+) Jerusalem Shuttle Bus Service
      from airport to Central Earth

      Like

  30. a question of manliness
    on the Jerusalem Shuttle Bus
    men rechecking themselves for a foreskin
    the roadblock and the demons examining each horn
    warriors of Christ killed and hung up for display
    those with wads of skin employed for evil

    Liked by 1 person

    1. A bus full
      of Chinese tourists
      and me doing hard time
      having to view all of their
      digital photography
      My sentence for the crime
      of celestial lust
      with a side serve
      of the desolation hustle
      life on board
      the Jerusalem Shuttle
      By the banks of the Dead Sea
      where self expression
      is a reciprocal disease
      I offered them my bones
      to make wind-chimes
      but they declined … saying
      “we are not Japanese!”

      Like

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