The Tower of Song

20160727_181141-01-01-01-221218617.jpeg

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

20170807_141022_hdr-02-02-01-02-01-01-01-01-01-01-01478595215.jpeg

1,552 thoughts on “The Tower of Song”

  1. I think she called him, Doll-Baby
    it wasn’t a relationship
    it was ownership
    subservient
    a landscape
    without a
    horizon
    modern life in Placebo City
    human beings as objects and abstractions
    human beings who retreat to the Torah or the Bible
    to connect with individuality and wholeness, actual equilibrium

    Liked by 1 person

  2. reality had me squeezed like a tube of toothpaste
    I was spitting nails, spitting nails like a big dog
    down on my knees confessing my love
    and she was releasing internal fumes
    Placebo City, Lost River Township
    a haven of resentments
    mutual rage
    ultimatums

    Liked by 1 person

  3. the intimacy of the river and death
    lovers intoxicated with the constant flow
    nightly the moon was watching them naked
    sometimes licking their surfaces
    leaving them consciously wet
    more wet than Eve
    after Adam

    Liked by 1 person

  4. the crazy people down the avenue
    think suffering is sweet
    their children write
    school papers
    on death
    suffering is lukewarm
    while death is boiling
    the night girls crawling on Christ
    crawling on Christ on the cross
    desperate for the seed
    what if they were
    to give birth ?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Imagine all the people
      Feed from greed
      Sharing and caring
      Like sisters and brothers
      Doing for one another
      As if done for one self
      All selfishness
      Pride and arrogance
      Left upon the shelf
      The love of life
      In every breath
      Crystal clear
      Without guilt or fear
      Transparent and honest
      It would seem
      Till that Kingdom come
      True feedom is but a dream
      As Planet Earth is ruled
      By a serpent of stealth
      And prideful bitterness
      Yet the One who redeems
      Sheep gone astray
      Will one sweet day
      Return to free us
      And that’s a Jesus promise

      Like

  5. sporadically, the balls would demand release
    the team loved the Homerun Stud
    no round peg
    in a square hole
    conventional
    sometimes Greek
    a reach-around, a warm gentle tug
    what kind of guy would turn down a friend ?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Much wizardry
      was the done thing
      in the House of Slytherin
      My old friend Salazar
      considered by most
      to be strange and bazaar
      was always high on the stuff
      But his sorcery could only
      take him so far
      so he took the next step
      from witchcraft to a fast car
      The rest is history
      Rest in peace
      my old friend Salazar

      Like

  6. in a room with other men
    many missing an ear
    dog bites
    knife fights
    some cut their own noses
    exterior information
    conflicts with existing intentions
    on a free ride
    paying a heavy price
    something sucks the chrome off
    your shiny halo
    your little private Jesus
    he’s been diverted
    to the less desirable

    Liked by 1 person

  7. solitude gnawing away
    a simple call to the night porter
    entropy—it is just too much
    you repeat yourself
    the night porter knows the ladder
    he delivers uniqueness
    he says, “something to separate you, Michael”

    Liked by 1 person

  8. consume the poison
    all those strong locks on the floor
    money escaping the wallet
    nothing marring happiness
    I have my ladder, Daddy
    previous anxieties
    no match for the attack dogs
    the night porter floats in
    he knows my level
    not giving a shit
    about surviving
    do some more
    never enough

    Liked by 1 person

    1. No talk and all action
      in a world of blind reaction
      The condition was cursed
      by a dose of pre-existence
      Grasping with greed
      and bitterness
      the Golden Breed
      of feudal economics
      and those broken spies
      of trickle-down lies
      all in the pandemic grip
      of a global fever
      There’ll be time for justice
      when the stock market crashes
      and sickness is forever banished
      along with herpes and skin rashes

      Like

  9. my grandparents are still in the coal mines
    they look away
    little rich boy
    they like so many others
    cannot understand the value
    of standing on flesh and blood
    to survive on the frontiers of prose
    colleagues with elephant dongs proud
    lesbians afraid of the competitive arena
    eventually they stray beyond the limits
    details and depth unimaginable
    genital puzzle-solvers

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The human graphic
      lost in the dream
      of an Escher scene
      The degeneration
      all processed and fossil fuelled
      for the pleasure
      of Narcissus the Extreme
      with a declaration of war
      from the Night Manager
      “We Are All In This Together,
      so no better time to surrender.”
      Cosmetic mutations
      on exhibition
      with genitalia inflated
      and degraded
      … depending on the weather

      Like

  10. WHERE ARE THOSE ASS WIPES FROM LAST NIGHT ?
    dental work with the dong
    nothing less than a luxury sedan
    sitting in the backseat
    reading, A Revised Standard Version of the Reader’s Digest Bible
    a heterosexual Aurus Senat luxury sedan
    poetry gleaned from the sacred scriptures
    tantamount
    the backseat of a luxury sedan
    autonomous actualization (Aurus Senat)
    a complex symphony at your fingertips
    sequences of fingering

    Liked by 1 person

  11. she was wearing her wedding day bra minus a cup
    it was mobile home park but sort of different
    one breast up, the other down
    perfect thing for a Multiple
    two pillows under the butt
    my favorite ladder
    “Daddy Ladder”

    Liked by 1 person

  12. quiet sex
    an atmosphere of remoteness
    she was thinking about dying in her sleep
    she was thinking about her soul surging up
    a fountain filled to the brim with her salty love
    —————why did she hook up with a Multiple ?
    he was closing down sex
    jism was leaking down
    near the sewer hole

    Liked by 1 person

  13. so in love with oneself
    to break away to say “farewell”
    damages that which seals the cocoon
    that which withstands the insecurities
    recognizable shadows drift about outside
    autograph hounds and narrative detectives

    Liked by 1 person

  14. as a Multiple, I must talk the talk, walk the walk, carry a knife
    scrape away at the mindless organic matter of everyday
    FLORIDA: a vast impersonal background
    an extraordinariness inherent where
    our Lady Moon warms her toes

    Liked by 1 person

    1. As a rascal
      a rascallion of oblivion
      seeking the sanctuary of Nirvana
      I spoke softly
      and carried a big stick of Buddha
      It was my big stick ideology
      of alien diplomacy
      The multiple was in the detail
      of explosive theology
      The hellion of destruction
      was riding high
      on a rising swell of anticipation
      till the guardian angel
      whispering words of wisdom
      in a voice ringing
      with multiple choice
      rang the half time bell . . .

      “Do not roast
      like a meatloaf.
      The time is nigh
      to hit the trail.
      So go saddle up
      for some hot lovin’
      Armageddon with the lot
      like a bat out of hell.”

      Like

    2. Having just crossed the border
      I headed straight to Miami
      and the Clevelander Bar
      for an icy cold beer
      The bartender
      warned me
      to beware
      and that
      Florida
      was
      where
      the Multiple
      Michael variant
      had gone rampant
      I told him I didn’t care
      No vaccination under the sun
      can hold back a mega solar flare

      Like

  15. as a Multiple I don’t show up in photographs
    sometimes children draw me on walls
    people say mean things
    and close doors to my face
    the librarian has given me a dozen names
    I am a Multiple, I come and go but not as I please

    Liked by 1 person

    1. As a singular
      point of conciousness
      I fell through a hole
      in the fabric
      of this temporal universe
      after taking a hungry bite
      like a tiger of the night
      into the jugular of existence
      But every singular rascal
      is like a settin’ sun

      Like

    2. “Consciousness, no matter how
      extensive it may be, must always
      remain the smaller circle within the
      greater circle of the unconscious, an
      island surrounded by the sea; and,
      like the sea itself, the unconscious
      yields an endless and self replenishing
      abundance of living creatures, a wealth
      beyond our fathoming.”

      ~ Carl Jung

      Like

  16. Multiples toss stones at singulars
    tell them to return to the other side
    where educated men in expensive suits
    collect funds and operate the toll booth gates
    THE JUGULAR OF EXISTENCE
    rendered rare moments
    where the mighty tiger
    damages the sky fiber
    non-human agents
    busy with repairs

    Liked by 1 person

    1. . . . a glasshouse of the abstract
      where Pablo vents dissatisfaction
      at the muses he’s disassembled
      whilst seeking hidden meaning
      from the Ladies-in-Waiting
      A genius Minotaur
      trapped in a bullring
      by order of the Spanish Inquisition
      as the Salvador and Diego Velázquez
      take a guided tour of creation
      Vermeer and Van Gogh were there
      waiting at Singular Station
      in the white room where it all began
      with a refraction of the Holy Spectrum
      El Greco was as mad as hell
      He really didn’t care to go
      but he got caught up in the undertow
      after a night at the Honeymoon Hotel
      in a room with a view of Placebo
      Las Meninas has a toll booth hidden
      under a Lady-In-Waiting’s skirt
      Picasso spent a lifetime searching for it
      From behind a golden baroque canvas
      Diego Velázquez is quietly watching

      Like

  17. chicks with dicks were selling potato salad and club crackers
    outside the racetrack , one could have extra mustard,
    extra boiled eggs, even red potatoes on demand
    I asked the best looking one of the bunch
    if he/she knew any Bible stories
    he/she said, “listen Honey,
    if you’re wanting some
    hanky-panky, you’re
    going about it
    all wrong”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. At a nightclub in Phuket a girly boy
      came up to me saying there’s nothing
      like a good spanky, and that the back
      of my hand would do nicely.
      I was on my honeymoon, with Linda
      back in the hotel room, so I declined
      politely. Plus, there were plenty of
      Russian tourists about, who just can’t
      resist a session with a whip or a belt.
      In Thailand it don’t take much money.
      The humble Russian Ruble can buy you
      plenty of Asian trouble.

      Like

  18. TODAY, Abe Lincoln was seen floating downstream
    all kinds of gossip sprang forth
    People claimed that he was gay
    others said that he just liked sleeping with men
    truth was, he did like sleeping with men
    that same-sex relationships
    were different back then
    that males
    could be affectionate
    with one another and remain nonsexual
    (+) except for cowboys and sailors and real men

    Liked by 1 person

  19. I don’t really give automobiles away
    people just borrow them
    and never return
    the night porter
    GUILTY
    phone calls from South America
    they’ve discovered my pride and joy
    slightly damaged and missing an engine

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Elvis gave a Cadillac
      to each of his bodyguards
      No walking in Memphis
      for King Presley’s entourage
      My Chevy ’57
      now lies in pieces
      at that Tennessee garage
      where the mechanic
      he’s always busy
      fixing other people’s cars
      I leave angry messages
      saying what parts to scavenge
      from the chop shops
      of Placebo Town
      and that I’m in a hurry
      … but deep down
      I know he really cares

      Like

  20. absorption into a generalized Placebo Town
    smoking and the layer of semi-trance
    shadows outside
    insubstantial beings
    watchful
    any clue of anything
    other than lifeless life
    (+) standing on ladders under heaven

    Liked by 1 person

    1. is that the ladder
      where you step
      on some mother’s back
      but that’s alright
      he’s some kind of snake
      so stomp it hard
      for heaven’s sake
      Placebo Town is impatient
      and the Sheriff can’t wait

      Like

    1. Walking around
      feeling like I’d just
      got out of prison
      My clothes don’t fit right
      and I suspect they’re
      ten years out of fashion
      I can’t shake the feeling
      a truck load of shit
      is about to go down
      But then …
      they don’t want you
      getting too comfortable
      in Placebo Town

      Like

  21. at the Placebo Honeymoon Hotel
    the bride may request a room
    with a cot in the closet
    and a hardcore lock
    a space to be safe
    (+) at what price ?
    downstairs in the lobby
    strangers eyed one another
    perhaps measuring desperation

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Who needs
      a Yoga class?
      PLACEBO TOWN
      way down south
      in the Great State
      of Nothingness
      is the first choice
      and last resort
      for the busy desperado
      on the go.
      Always remember
      . . . Cleanliness
      is next to Nothingness.
      So clean compulsively
      as you drink responsibly
      or we’ll be forced to turn
      that smile upside down.
      Placebo Town
      is often mistaken
      for a state of existence
      where the trains always
      run on time.

      Like

  22. Noah on his majestic Ark (+) like a ghost daddy
    floating over the bones (+) like a ghost daddy
    of a zillion creatures
    love washed clean
    new DNA
    past history free
    and yet, trespassers were soon to arrive
    at first only coming out at night
    cigarettes and negro music
    big bottom baby machines
    (+) got no sleep for the sounds of birth

    Liked by 1 person

    1. A lucky few
      Neanderthals
      were spared
      the great deluge
      Behind the gates
      of Placebo Town
      is where they
      found refuge
      As the rain began
      falling down
      they all climbed up
      the Tower of Babel
      Without a care
      they’re been
      squatting there
      ever since
      amongst the rubble
      Every now and then
      they’ll go
      on an outing
      to do some shopping
      The Placebians
      they meet
      think hippies
      with big hairy feet
      Yetis busking
      or something?
      In Placebo Town
      there’s always
      plenty furry freaks
      out on the street
      just hanging around

      Like

    1. Vlad the Impaler
      is the Patron Saint
      of Placebo Town
      Whenever you say
      a little prayer to him
      try not to faint
      as a shiny spike rises up
      from the stony ground
      and pins you to the sky

      Like

  23. the mechanical rhythms of the Honeymoon Hotel
    sexual abstinence
    thought of as northbound in the southbound lane
    reproduction, the weak and lesser warping
    fallen nature hidden away
    sin growing on it like a second skin
    the Michael splits apart
    I am him and I am others
    I am a multiple

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am the Solo Man
      drinking lemon fizzy
      out of an aluminium can
      Mister Marlboro
      the high sheriff
      of Placebo Town
      tried many a time to kill me
      with nothing but
      a cigarette in his hand
      He said it was a crying shame
      that I shot up his deputy
      Since when is it a crime
      to drink the wine
      of an exotic poppy?
      To then fly like an eagle
      to the realm of cold turkey
      Toxic it may be
      but a Solo Man
      needs to fly free
      be he a turkey or an eagle
      Next they’ll be trying
      to ban stupidity!
      In a land where nothing is real
      you can gamble your life away
      at the Honeymoon Hotel
      In Placebo Town
      it is perfectly legal

      Like

  24. the enemy addicted to tricks and jokes
    but upon close examination
    nothing of that nature
    was discovered
    indiscriminate good and evil, yes
    stable for wild creatures locked in cages
    circumstantial evidence, twice sniffed turds
    Alice Cooper sings about the dead baby
    me Pops called it a Thanksgiving turkey
    just the taste of meat, it made us violent
    the ugly face, the unclean soul
    conditions that encouraged
    Noah to struggle

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The collateral damage
      Once mighty players
      now pitiful war veterans
      following a mirage
      to the edge of reality
      God damn the torpedoes
      and their computer games
      That Battle of Crazy Ouija
      has caused many to flee
      the Citadel of Singularly
      for the Temple of Polyanomaly
      where Sister Superior
      makes them a nice cup of tea
      and tucks them in tight
      after kissing them goodnight
      Since Super Mario
      the Psychedelic
      and the Neo-Multiplicity
      burnt old Nirvana Down
      and made Placebo Town
      the new Cosmic Capital
      things just haven’t been
      the same under the reign
      of President Neanderthal
      Sometimes I wonder
      just who is and isn’t sane
      I guess only time will tell?

      Like

  25. out at night with no mirror to reflect
    the proud creature
    that needs not a dictionary
    to define instincts
    predators in the shadows
    waiting for the strong
    to sacrifice the lesser
    or the odd
    (+) unity with others is forbidden

    Liked by 1 person

    1. “It is the poet’s job:
      to name the nameless, point out the
      frauds, take sides, arouse discussions,
      shape the world and prevent him from
      falling asleep.”

      ~ Salman Rushdie

      “Stories are among the most intimate
      and personal things we have. Stories
      touch the imagination and are deeply
      implanted in one’s psyche and
      consciousness. Without stories there
      can be no culture. Without stories there
      can be no imagination. Without an
      imagination there is no vitality to human
      existence. Without that vitality humans
      are mere robots to be programmed,
      pacified, and subjugated into parasitic
      consumers.”

      ~ Paul Krause

      “That is the mystery about writing:
      it comes out of afflictions, out of
      the gouged times, when the heart
      is cut open.”

      ~ Edna O’Brien

      Like

  26. vertical uplifts at the truck stop
    preoccupations
    what makes a man a man
    and all the rest
    just inhabitants
    the attention of man
    is forced inward
    to escape with vividness
    and intensity
    (+) I have argued my whole life
    that Placebo Town
    is NOT geographically misplaced

    Liked by 1 person

  27. Bob Dylan was asked to be the new inspector
    of a pedagogical seminary
    in the blondes of Placebo
    he could wear the skins
    of Swedenborg
    he could make Rosicrucian valentines
    for American presidents
    the world was his
    if only he would help
    return society
    to Christianity
    Bob Dylan was offered the Light of Adam
    an exit from all the base, earthly perishable matter
    ———————-and what did he answer this man, Bob Dylan ?
    ———————-and what did he answer this mighty young one ?

    Like

    1. I’ve stumbled on the side
      of twelve misty mountains
      I’ve walked and I’ve crawled
      on six crooked highways
      I’ve stepped in the middle
      of seven sad forests
      I’ve been out in front
      of a dozen dead oceans
      I’ve been ten thousand miles
      in the mouth of a graveyard

      I heard the sound of a thunder
      that roared out a warnin’
      Heard the roar of a wave
      that could drown the whole world
      Heard one hundred drummers
      whose hands were a-blazin’
      Heard ten thousand whisperin’
      and nobody listenin’
      Heard one person starve
      I heard many people laughin’
      Heard the song of a poet
      who died in the gutter
      Heard the sound of a clown
      who cried in the alley

      I’m a-goin’ back out
      ‘fore the rain starts a-fallin’
      I’ll walk to the depths
      of the deepest black forest
      Where the people are many
      and their hands are all empty
      Where the pellets of poison
      are flooding their waters
      Where the home in the valley
      meets the damp dirty prison
      And the executioner’s face
      is always well hidden
      Where hunger is ugly,
      where souls are forgotten
      Where black is the color,
      where none is the number
      And I’ll tell it and think it
      and speak it and breathe it
      And reflect it from the mountain
      so all souls can see it
      Then I’ll stand on the ocean
      until I start sinkin’
      But I’ll know my song well
      before I start singin’

      It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

      And that ain’t all, according to Bob

      Like

    1. To the great pleasure
      of the night manager
      Montero Lamar Hill
      is the star cabaret performer
      at the Honeymoon Hotel.
      Lil Nas X will sign autographs
      for anyone who asks,
      with a promise to do an encore
      of his latest number one hit,
      ‘Mocking at the Devil’s Door’.
      Montero owes it all,
      his fame, fortune, and more,
      to growing up dirt poor
      in a town called Placebo.

      Like

  28. hell is labor-intensive
    millions of people to employ the spinning wheels
    that cover the surface of earth with negative vibes
    belching smokestacks
    children picked up from barter
    rickets (stained skeletal deformations)
    older kids had to lay down to swallow
    ————the battlefield apprenticeship
    soldiers dead having never tasted chocolate

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The Catoptromancer of Mass Media
      at the Placebo Town Hall of Mirrors
      is the overseer of modern culture
      Astral stimulants have colonised
      the conciousness
      of the Black Order Mutants
      who stand upon the shoulders
      of psychotic giants
      Life coaches with machine guns
      Warrior Priests and Suicide Sisters
      hang about the tattoo parlours
      where drowning sailors go
      Saint Germain’s journalist without borders being unceremoniously
      cut to pieces by the Lords of Pseudo
      Social media in a cocktail shaker
      suspended in pornographic jello
      Plastic shamans on synthetic peyote
      In Placebo Town
      life itself is a viral pandemic
      Pablo Picasso dreaming Don Quixote
      We are all in this picture together
      Self portraits seeking a portal
      to a landscape immortal
      Norman Rockwell forever
      painting the Girl at the Mirror
      The catoptromancy of humanity
      … a full length fantasy
      cut short with terminal velocity

      Like

    2. I was excited
      to finally taste chocolate
      having served
      my apprenticeship
      at the Factory of Civil Unrest
      where I was incited
      to self medicate
      and violently protest
      for universal peace
      The world
      doesn’t fully appreciate
      the taste of chocolate
      as it dishes up
      yet another confected mess

      Like

  29. as a small child in hell
    I was constantly reminded
    to not visit the root cellar
    (root cellar in hell)
    galvanized milk jugs
    full of spit
    church people traded them
    for kisser balm
    the religious lips were busy
    talking up the Lord
    and everything up above

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Jesus spent some time
      in the root cellar
      apparently for the crime
      of being fully human
      But he got out early
      since he’s totally divine
      When it comes down
      to the enigma of desire
      everyone in Placebo Town
      is secretly guilty
      and curious as hell
      ever since Salvador Dali
      set their giraffes on fire
      at the Honeymoon Hotel

      Like

  30. just think of the lucky grooms
    who were popping a nut
    as Dali set the giraffes
    on fire
    (+) the smell was so strong that it warped
    the flavors in the wine cellar
    ================================
    employees at the Honeymoon Hotel
    live in their head
    live in the flesh
    daydream about shedding their skin
    a cancellation of the old self
    things that are not what they seem
    confrontations with mathematics
    new and unfamiliar uses
    the loneliness of mathematics
    often judged and evaluated
    inside a looney bin

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You may catch a glimpse
      of the virgin bride
      at the wedding feast
      but one thing you can count on
      … you must never touch.
      Not even at the Honeymoon Hotel.
      The dichotomy
      would be just too much.
      It has ever been such,
      the beauty of geometry
      versus the tyranny
      of mathematics.
      Enlightenment
      or the Accountant,
      with no taste for chaos.
      Plato seeking perfection
      amongst the good, the bad,
      and the boring.
      The artist, the poet,
      the musician, the dreamer,
      all under a geometric spell.
      But the night manager
      has something special
      brewing in the root cellar
      at the Honeymoon Hotel.

      Like

  31. Easter Sunday at the hospital
    asking for volunteers
    to dig graves
    “so sorry gents, I’m too short”
    sleeping in a bed
    underneath
    all rhythm of movement
    communication in the grave
    pure suggestion
    nothing chiseled
    nothing finished

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I saw an old man
      at the shopping mall food court
      with his head bowed down
      praying over his jelly donut.
      He had survived another passover
      in this God forsaken Placebo Town.
      Amazing grace, or just dumb luck?
      The waitress just shook her head
      as passersby stared on in shock.
      A security guard soon approached
      brandishing a gun, a baton,
      and a killer frown.
      Like a vulture, cancel culture
      had come to town.

      Like

  32. Easter Sunday in the hospital
    holding my hands tight
    to ease the loneliness
    I wrote a letter to Leonard Cohen
    like children write Santa Claus
    the transit after death
    travel but never arrive
    the glow of paradise
    so bright

    Liked by 1 person

  33. colors undercut by health
    repeated references
    holy men standing on ladders
    a thousand keys
    and no luck
    descriptions of loneliness
    a Multiple holding himself
    watching men with strong limbs
    dig graves in the field down below

    Liked by 1 person

  34. when Leonard Cohen walked by
    the immediate world
    became silent
    HE WAS THE MAN
    people talk about needing a man
    no matter who their man
    he cries but he don’t sing
    all alone
    a Multiple

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s