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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6,405 thoughts on “The Tower of Song”

      1. Thank you very, Susan.
        Now that you have been
        brought to the Tower, the
        ‘Godfather of Gloom’ will
        show you to your room.
        Because there ain’t no cure
        for the love of poetry.

        Liked by 2 people

  4. As The Tennessee Poet enters from stage right, the crowd grows silent to hear his always simple praise. He smiles, takes the mike in his hand and proclaims “All hail King Leonard and his bard Sir David” ! He turns, drops the mike and exits stage left.

    Liked by 4 people

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  7. I thought I found my favorite line
    Inside this poem, the best this time:
    “With more skat than a cat
    can poke it’s eyeballs at,”
    But then, as I rolled through
    came this quiet one from you:
    “I’m counselled by a whisper
    in the heavens.”
    Like an echo in an empty hall,
    I loved those lines most of all,
    …until the final few,
    which gave me hope, too
    (thank you):
    “And Leonard Cohen,
    he’s moved on,
    to the Tower of Song.”
    I put this on my pinterest board, “Art that Inspires” using that gorgeous tower photo art to pin.

    Liked by 3 people

    Reply

  8. My pick. It reminds me of Plato’s Cave. Cohen. I don’t listen to him but many ppl I admire do. His lyrics are supposedly phenomenal. 🙏👏

    Liked by 3 people

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  10. Try as you might
    to sight the heavens,
    like pointing a microscope
    to the skies
    from the dire
    mire basement
    in which your standing.
    Far better, in the light,
    seeing the world
    through heaven’s eyes.

    Liked by 4 people

    Reply

      1. Yes it definitely did. Thank you. And also, I wanted to thank you for reading my blog posts the way you do. It means a lot
        I am truly grateful😊

        Liked by 1 person

  19. Always inventive and original! I like how you reworked Cohen’s lyrics. If you do have a Bard of the Boudoir piece, I’d like to read it. If you don’t, l’d like you to write it.
    Beautiful picture too!

    Liked by 2 people

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  24. Can you think of any specific piece of Mr. Cohen’s that might serve as advice for a fellow onetime-Montreallais in my rather… unique situation? I mourn that I never received his counsel directly, merely listening on his conversations with the world.

    Liked by 1 person

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    1. Sad news that Little Richard has
      just moved into the Tower of Song.
      But at least Hank Williams won’t be
      lonely, as apparently he stays up
      all night long. Little Richard, Lucille,
      and Hank, can all just jam along to
      Leonard Cohen singing loud & strong
      (not the Lucille that left left Kenny
      Rogers just when he needed her the
      most, of course).

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  29. Good God! Only you could have written this, David. The title immediately grabbed my attention – big Cohen fan – but I came out of it as a David Redpath fan! 😁👏👏 well done!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Greatly appreciated, Isha 🙏
      I did my time listening to the
      Lord Byron Of Rock’n’Roll.
      The High Priest of Pathos had a
      profound influence on my youth.
      Leonard Cohen, and Bob Dylan,
      converted me into a seeker of truth.
      Yet I do occasionally cut loose
      with a bit of Taylor Swift … but
      please, don’t tell anybody 😎

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply

      1. Seriously, Dude! I recognized many a nod….but many I didn’t and thought…I need to have an intense Leonard listen down the road!!! So cool. Thanks for piquing my Cohen curiosity!!! 😎❤️😊

        Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh my, what a deliciously stunning
        imagery you are conveying here –
        a piece of eternity flowing free…sigh…
        me encanta!!! Que poeta eres de verdad. Sending muchos abrazotes y amor 💛💛💛

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Charlie 👌
      It’s a great view
      from the Tower 👁️💛👁️
      (That’s the Tower of Song 🎶
      Not that leaning Italian one. Or
      the French one made of iron🗼
      Not even the Tower of London.)

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    2. I am watching this right now and it is blowing my mind…. wow. Thank you for sharing this… what a song, what a message… what a voice… what a charisma and zen quality, on stage… what a beauty, what a soul… kind of like so many of the artists and poets around here, on WP… :))

      “I’m crazy for love…
      but I’m not comin’ on.
      I’m just paying my rent every day
      In the tower of song.”
      ~ Cohen

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply

      3. Who else but Leonard Cohen …

        “And she feeds you tea and oranges
        that come all the way from China
        And just when you mean to tell her
        that you have no love to give her
        Then he gets you on her wavelength
        And she lets the river answer
        that you’ve always been her lover
        And you want to travel with her,
        and you want to travel blind
        And you know that she will trust you
        For you’ve touched her perfect body
        with your mind … ”

        Liked by 1 person

      4. “But he himself was broken
        Long before the sky would open
        Forsaken, almost human
        He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
        And you want to travel with him
        And you want to travel blind
        And you think maybe you’ll trust him
        For he’s touched your perfect body with his mind…”
        Thank you so much for this education in Cohen… really did not know much before. ✨

        Liked by 1 person

  37. If only we all realized,
    we are what we see
    then I wonder what
    we’d do with that knowledge
    Sweet lord, don’t ask me.
    I know the theories
    but I’m caught in the loop
    and all good intentions
    keep me turning in hell’s hoop.
    I guess the best thing to do
    is keep doing that loving hula.
    Or stop and sit still;
    calm like some buddha.

    Hugs, David… missed you lots 💛

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. If it be your will
      That I speak some more
      And your hoola be still
      As it was before
      I will speak some more
      I shall abide until
      I am spoken for
      If it be your will
      That a voice be true
      From this broken hill
      I will speak with you
      If there is a choice
      Let the rivers fill
      Let the hills rejoice
      Let your mercy spill
      On all these burning
      Hulas from hell
      And end this plight
      If it be your will
      All your children here
      In their rags of light
      And their hoola hoops
      spinning in the night

      I do hope Leonard doesn’t mind
      me playing around with his lyrics.
      But, this one was all down to you,
      Lia ♥️😎

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. Wow… wow…. smiling, smiling…
        so sun-brightened… now.
        Just amazing, David… truly.
        Thanks for this bit
        of shining
        glory. ❤︎ 🔆🌻💛☀️🌟🤩

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Almost as much as I enjoyed
      those cuddly pics of Mr. Cat, Nina.
      I was adopted by a black ‘n’ white
      moggie, by the name of Miss Miso.
      She had many kittens, all with
      black ‘n’ white mittens, but she left.
      for kitty heaven a long time ago 🐾

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    1. Greatly appreciated, Lara.
      Wheels of commotion
      are certainly in motion.
      Farewell to all rhyme
      and reason, as a change
      of season is on the horizon.

      “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?”

      ~ Bob Dylan

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  40. This poem is epicurean and iconic and just the David styled pieces that I’ve been admiring for the time I’ve known you.
    “I too
    have tried
    in my way
    to be free
    If it be your will
    then let it be”
    Enjambment seems like your true friend.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Tis the fault of Walt Whitman, Watt.
      I owe my lack of formulaic style to
      him, “the father of free verse”. Much
      to my relief, having been puntuated
      to an early full stop from birth.
      Thanks for towering feedback.

      “The secret of it all is to write in
      the gush, the throb, the flood of
      the moment. To put things down
      without deliberation, without
      worrying about their style, without
      waiting for a fit time or place.
      I always worked that way. I took
      the first scrap of paper, the first
      doorstep, the first desk, and wrote.
      … By writing at the instant, the
      very heartbeat of life is caught.”

      ~ Walt Whitman

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. I’d say its no one fault. Stylistic choice. ’tis cool.
        And that seems like an epic and accurate poem. Rages thru the smokescreen of confusion or doubt that might occur on the way of clarity as to what we try to outline by writing. When the truth is, “the very heartbeat of life is caught”

        Liked by 1 person

      2. “Reality only reveals itself when it
        is illuminated by a ray of poetry.”
        ~Georges Braque

        Ring the bells that still can ring
        Forget your perfect offering
        There is a crack in everything
        That’s how the light gets in

        ~ Leonard Cohen

        Like

  44. ——DREAMS——
    that all humans are wearing the crowns of kings
    but standing in barnyard manure
    males are struck with sports cars
    females, their earthly burdens
    humans wearing supernatural skins
    occupied with counting grains of sand
    standing outside in the dark
    blind to spirits and ghosts
    finding it nearly impossible
    to lift their heads enough
    to witness the sky

    Liked by 1 person

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  45. the framework of everyday life
    adventures and hardships
    poets (?) and criminals
    praying to be saved
    from themselves
    —————-I turn on the television
    sexy women are bathing in liquid dung
    spraying themselves with perfumes
    men hanging outside helicopters
    waving at perky sweethearts
    they once second-based

    Liked by 1 person

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    1. PLACEBOTOXIN
      Another Princess of the People
      Looking for love
      In all the wrong legal loopholes
      An entitled spectacle
      In every direction dysfunctional
      The suffering of the humble
      A happening revelation
      The Eagle King
      And Angels of Oblivion
      Upon the eve of destruction
      Between Planet Euthoria
      And Downtown Armageddon
      Deformities under cultivation
      Who guides your mind?
      Who guards your heart?
      The mislaid and misled
      From the very start
      Caught in a dysmorphic spasm
      On the edge of a spiritual chasm
      Neurotransmission in a state
      Of flaccid soul paralysis
      Another People’s Princess
      Overcome with botulinum toxin

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      Reply

  46. P L A C E B O T O W N
    those who find reason to escape
    find it nearly impossible to return
    divorce after divorce, outside definition
    the lawyers with their 20 pound handbooks
    try to measure the endless ribbons of heartache
    try to define the ephemeral joys of the love raped

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. PLACE GRACELAND
      where love is lust
      but without the thrust
      of desperation
      and no need to escape
      a sad bad situation

      “Lies written in ink can never
      disguise facts written in blood.”

      ~ Lu Xun

      Like

      Reply

  47. nothing interests the poet more than himself
    standing on ladders in the center of the room
    mirrors to reflect
    those who fancy themselves
    Mother Mary whispers to all infants
    “I have contributed more than the others”

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Exquisite corpses, poets,
      And asylum basket weavers,
      Hidden under the bed covers
      Of Motel Bedlam
      Magnificat Mothers
      Generic Fathers
      Baking in the sun
      Soaking in a broken gene pool
      The silenced lamb
      Given logic and religion
      Then wrapped in cotton wool

      Like

      Reply

  48. the voluntary
    aspect of creation
    people rush to excess
    people stand in line around the globe
    blind earthworms demand their chance
    the naked reality of closing the coffin door
    birds of lucidity fly overhead marking the season
    —————I wanted to be a superhuman
    wet my feet but not track it in the house
    birth control boots at all times
    what a joke

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  49. children to repeat
    ————most of all, TO MARK TIME
    history records the succession of efforts
    DNA, the collection of failures
    they teach the children
    in Sunday School
    that everyone in heaven can reproduce
    scientists agree that through the Holy Telescope
    one can clearly see playground equipment

    Liked by 1 person

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    1. “I tell you the past is a bucket of
      ashes, so live not in your yesterdays,
      no just for tomorrow, but in the here
      and now. Keep moving and forget
      the post mortems; and remember, no
      one can get the jump on the future.”

      “A man may be born, but in order
      to be born he must first die, and
      in order to die he must first awake.”

      ~ Carl Sandburg

      Like

      Reply

  50. at the pool hall
    one hears, “all that for what ?”
    to repeat faces with noses
    to mark time with noise and confusion
    perhaps it isn’t the massive bowel movement
    but rather, the complete ordeal the elephant experiences
    (the poet thinks of sleeping in the company of hungry eyes glowing)

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. “Poetry is the journal of the sea
      animal living on land, wanting to
      fly in the air. Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of
      the unknown and the unknowable.
      Poetry is a phantom script telling
      how rainbows are made and why
      they go away.”

      ~ Carl Sandburg

      Though I know
      that evening’s empire
      has returned into sand
      Vanished from my hand
      Left me blindly here to stand
      but still not sleeping
      My weariness amazes me,
      I’m branded on my feet
      I have no one to meet
      And the ancient empty street’s
      too dead for dreaming …
      Take me on a trip upon
      your magic swirling ship
      My senses have been stripped
      My hands can’t feel to grip
      My toes too numb to step
      Wait only for my boot heels
      to be wandering
      I’m ready to go anywhere,
      I’m ready for to fade
      Into my own parade
      Cast your dancing spell my way,
      I promise to go under it …
      Though you might hear laughing,
      spinning, swinging madly
      across the sun
      It’s not aimed at anyone
      It’s just escaping on the run
      And but for the sky
      there are no fences facing
      And if you hear vague traces
      of skipping reels of rhyme
      To your tambourine in time
      It’s just a ragged clown behind
      I wouldn’t pay it any mind
      It’s just a shadow you’re seeing
      that he’s chasing …
      And take me disappearing through
      the smoke rings of my mind
      Down the foggy ruins of time
      Far past the frozen leaves
      The haunted frightened trees
      Out to the windy beach
      Far from the twisted reach
      of crazy sorrow
      Yes, to dance
      beneath the diamond sky
      With one hand waving free
      Silhouetted by the sea
      Circled by the circus sands
      With all memory and fate
      Driven deep beneath the waves
      Let me forget about today
      until tomorrow
      Hey! Mr. Tambourine man,
      play a song for me
      I’m not sleepy and there is no place
      I’m going to
      Hey! Mr. Tambourine man,
      play a song for me
      In the jingle jangle morning
      I’ll come following you

      ~ Bob Dylan

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