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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335 thoughts on “The Tower of Song”

  1. some people exaggerate their sexual experiences at the library
    others downplay theirs, downplay their Armani suits
    their tailored socks, 100% pure outer space grown cotton
    the librarian told me, “if you want to make a significant change
    just alter how you view your reality”
    was that Mick Jagger’s secret ?
    impromptu nudity with Mick
    that football size dong
    looking rather sad
    MONEY-LOVERS
    sitting on the sidelines
    participants at cost
    willing
    to poke around the groin
    (@) a colorful aroma……brown

    Liked by 1 person

    1. At the Senate Hearings
      into Disorganised Crime
      I swore under oath
      when it comes
      to the Honoured Society
      of Placebo Town
      once your in your in
      There’s no getting out
      Then I took the 5th
      and remained silent
      I was duly rewarded
      by a grateful syndicate
      A giant birthday cake
      with a naked girl jumping out
      The icing was nice
      till she got me
      with an ice pick to the back

      Like

    2. Lush pastures of pleasure
      Where the grass is greener
      And the the waters run deep
      There eternity is glimpsed
      From mountain tops steep
      With a clear view to the future

      “The Lord is my shepherd,
      I lack nothing.
      He makes me lie down
      in green pastures,
      he leads me beside quiet waters,
      he refreshes my soul.
      He guides me along the right paths
      for his name’s sake.
      Even though I walk
      through the darkest valley,
      I will fear no evil,
      for you are with me;
      your rod and your staff,
      they comfort me.
      You prepare a table before me
      in the presence of my enemies.
      You anoint my head with oil;
      my cup overflows.
      Surely your goodness and love
      will follow me
      all the days of my life,
      and I will dwell in the house
      of the Lord forever.”

      ~ King David

      Like

    1. In Placebo Town
      The jail house rocks
      To the sound
      Of celebrities in spandex
      And space cotton socks
      Abusing the substance
      With brass knuckles
      And black market sex
      How can a prisoner think straight
      Amid the clamour
      Of clandestine trinkets
      And dead corpses
      Hanging from pearl necklaces?
      The rubber lips of glamour
      Serving a life sentence
      For Rock ‘n’ Roll incontinence
      Despite overwhelming evidence
      The constant claims of innocence
      Outside the lawyers have their picnic
      Sitting on cashmere blankets
      Eating panckes with maple syrup
      Talking stock markets and civil rights
      Wall Street profits and race riots
      Snorting coke and having a laugh
      As the pitcher
      In the blood red
      Space cotton socks
      Takes to the mound
      Ball in hand
      Tongue reaching out
      For the solitary confinement
      Of a Placebo Town pandemic

      Like

      1. Hustler Magazine once posted a color photograph
        of a pearl necklace
        a wicked porno yoke of Torah ?
        a warm necklace
        or one turned room temperature ?
        Mick Jagger loves Maple syrup on his pancakes
        not cheap doctored sugar water from Hong Kong
        tiny people in black cloaks from the Star Wars franchise
        suck the fluids from Maple trees and make heavenly syrup
        saliva is the magic ingredient, the more the better

        Liked by 1 person

      2. “I’d like to share a revelation that
        I’ve had during my time here. It
        came to me when I tried to classify
        your species and I realized that you’re
        not actually mammals. Every mammal
        on this planet instinctively develops
        a natural equilibrium with the
        surrounding environment but you
        humans do not. You move to an area
        and you multiply and multiply until
        every natural resource is consumed
        and the only way you can survive is
        to spread to another area. There is
        another organism on this planet
        that follows the same pattern.
        Do you know what it is? A virus.”

        ~ Agent Smith (The Matrix)

        “As for you, be fruitful and increase
        in number; multiply on the earth and increase upon it.”

        ~ Genesis

        Like

  2. imaginary women are a hot item
    in the world of single men
    one man after another
    floats south
    silent farewells before sleep
    no visible exteriority
    no identification
    a strong sense of the quest for pleasure
    the smell of overheated sex glands
    starved and ready to nourish
    modulations of mouth suck
    the taste of flesh
    perspiration

    Liked by 1 person

  3. lust and violence
    daily updates from nurses
    rather difficult to type poetry
    hanging upside down
    they whip my lung area twice per day
    dislodging more mature worms
    I don’t really vomit
    just sort of gag out
    transparent slick squirming globs
    everything is collected and sent away
    money made by labs and white suit techs

    Liked by 1 person

    1. After seven years
      as a guinea pig for
      Big Bro. Pharmaceuticals & Co.
      the intravenous ups and downs
      I got to know
      Punctuating all those
      black holes in time
      All sorts of blood sports
      Mother Karma
      Father of Crime
      But just when
      I was losing all hope
      They got the right dope
      Kryptonite
      Under the microscope
      After decades of decay
      I’ve never looked back
      Except to say . . .
      Thanks for not giving up

      Like

  4. having been out to sea for three months
    I can define “white knuckle” sex
    I can illustrate it in ink
    tales of men
    behaving like gypsies and outlaws
    with flesh sword in hand
    struggling with lewd
    thoughts
    —————–
    —————–
    older men tell tales of a demon in the village tart
    boiling abscesses around her woman part
    a tiny hand from her backside
    that squeezes your nut sac
    at the right moment

    Liked by 1 person

    1. “Imperfection is beauty, madness is
      genius and it’s better to be absolutely
      ridiculous than absolutely boring.”

      ~ Marilyn Monroe

      “I have the right to do anything,” you
      say—but not everything is beneficial.
      “I have the right to do anything”—but
      I will not be mastered by anything.

      ~ Paul of Tarsus

      For everything there is a season,
      and a time for every matter
      under heaven:
      a time to be born,
      and a time to die;
      a time to plant,
      and a time to pluck up what is planted;
      a time to kill,
      and a time to heal;
      a time to break down,
      and a time to build up;
      a time to weep,
      and a time to laugh;
      a time to mourn,
      and a time to dance;
      a time to cast away stones,
      and a time to gather stones together;
      a time to embrace,
      and a time to refrain from embracing;
      a time to seek,
      and a time to lose;
      a time to keep,
      and a time to cast away;
      a time to tear,
      and a time to sew;
      a time to keep silence,
      and a time to speak;
      a time to love,
      and a time to hate;
      a time for war,
      and a time for peace.

      ~ King Solomon (probably)

      Like

  5. Placebo Town
    last stop before the shores of Hades
    like a city south of the Mexican border
    where murder never happens before noon
    where blond children bring a boastful price
    however,
    can one find musicians willing to play notes from a score ?
    who refuse to perform African rhythms on the bagpipes ?
    who refuse to improvise or huff glue from a paper bag ?

    Liked by 1 person

  6. cleanliness could be purchased in Placebo Town
    sons of Adam created in God’s image
    a slight cover cost at the door
    survival
    survival (@) submission before something
    larger than human
    promising to raise men above themselves
    high above corruption
    sins deeply rooted
    free to roam

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Invictus

      Out of the night that covers me,
            Black as the pit from pole to pole,
      I thank whatever gods may be
            For my unconquerable soul.

      In the fell clutch of circumstance
            I have not winced nor cried aloud.
      Under the bludgeonings of chance
            My head is bloody, but unbowed.

      Beyond this place of wrath and tears
            Looms but the Horror of the shade,
      And yet the menace of the years
            Finds and shall find me unafraid.

      It matters not how strait the gate,
      How charged with punishments the scroll,
      I am the master of my fate,
            I am the captain of my soul

      ~ WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY

      Like

    2. “Cities are the abyss
      of the human species.”

      “Man is born free,
      and everywhere he is in chains”.

      “I prefer liberty with danger
      than peace with slavery.”

      “The world of reality has its limits;
      the world of imagination is boundless.”

      ~ Jean-Jacques Rousseau

      Like

  7. watch those pictures on television
    and your thoughts become small crackers
    that one would find floating in oyster soup
    the poverty that would drive one to dine on oysters
    oysters taking up the slack left by a less than adequate education

    Liked by 1 person

    1. A Psalm of Life

      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 labor and to wait.

      ™ HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

      Like

  8. no one ever talks about the things
    that were hidden from Adam and Eve
    angels were drinking and having wild sex
    animals were eating other animals
    Las Vegas by another name
    was up all night
    Adam had a vocation
    Eve was involved in leisure activities
    They were sharing strong positive feelings
    Day after day they would follow God’s design

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Home beautiful magazine
      Featured Eden’s garden
      Where anything can happen
      With a hostess
      Floating like a Botticelli venus
      Eyes flashing electric neon
      Clothed in the spectral glow
      Of a sparkling supernatural aura
      Blending with her living flowing hair
      The diva prima donna
      Creation’s pre-eminent daughter

      Like

  9. today a ten-kilometer-wide meteorite landed near Yucatan
    in the future, people will invent stories about the event
    in the future, Bob Dylan will flick off his autopilot
    after the origin of human consciousness
    no one will ask, “are you happy now ?”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The fuse was first lit
      the moment I entered
      the Morlock King’s crypt
      I only ever noticed it
      after seven thousand
      and eleven lifetimes
      The Eloi of Placebo Town
      had tried to warn me
      but were happy anyway
      to see me go underground
      Down there I finally grasped
      that the ancient past
      was just fair karma
      for a millennium of crime
      as a meteor shower
      from the distant future
      hit the Yucatan Peninsula
      and totally demolished
      my very last bottle
      of El Mezcal Coyote Tequila

      Like

  10. there was always the family’s anxiety
    how they wanted the poet to remain quiet
    family and friends hiding in the bushes
    hiding in the trees
    thinking they were out of sight
    watching, constantly observing
    would I overtax myself ?
    weeks without sleep
    rust in the urine

    Liked by 1 person

    1. My companions from outer space,
      Jimmy Fingers, James Freud, and
      and all the rest, preferred suicide
      to hanging around in a broken state.
      To be denied the full ride as gods
      and goddesses of this existence.
      James never come down
      from the buzz and the bust
      of being a musical toy boy
      for a predatory Gary Numan.
      Only to be chewed up, spat out. and
      abandoned to the back streets London.
      Even Johanne, my first true flame,
      took a big jump out of a moving train.
      A time for Long Tall Sally to ride.
      A time to cease and desist
      a dead-end twist on the wild side.
      So I ducked back in the alley.
      The streetwise skydiving,
      bedazzled and bedevilled . . .
      Or just surviving on sugar coated lies.
      Zombies with faces dishevelled.
      Be not mistaken, Robert Fost.
      There are many souls lost
      taking the road less travelled.

      Like

  11. can you name the poet who tied his horse
    outside the Placebo Town Brothel ?
    advertising that the Swiss glands were functioning
    to hell with the fresh air and neighborhood walks
    to hell with the censorious conventions of family and friends
    in the novel of changing life, a few pages left for shabby sex
    two strong orgasms and it becomes difficult to exit without help

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Whenever The Doors
      went on tour
      in Placebo Town
      Jim Morrison
      would just stand
      on any street corner
      with his pants down
      singing Light my Fire
      Now Sadly
      after loving madly
      some graveyard poem
      he sings only
      a creeping ghost song
      from deep underground
      Like a crawling King Snake
      trying to break through
      to the end of the night
      for a White Wedding
      with a coke snorting punk
      Likewise
      Billy Idol had no need of a brothel
      But then . . . he was no poet
      Rather . . . a fast forcer
      mother of nature

      Like

  12. slobbering baby
    a youthful crush on oneself
    nicknames, private charades
    comical genital eccentricities
    the famous unstoppable sexual element
    (@) Placebo Town
    music, a licensed outlet for rudeness and aggression
    any relish for pool hall mischief has moved on down the rails

    Liked by 1 person

  13. I was watching the big cats lick themselves
    they had Roast Beef for lunch
    and they were happy
    like they had just
    smoked a fat joint
    the big cats could be greedy
    instincts with large sharp teeth
    courtship ending in pain or so it seems

    Liked by 1 person

  14. loving the small moments of ordinary life
    inside the fabric, the ties that bind
    seed blaster Adam
    often delivering his goods
    in a fierce and abrasive manner
    yes, there were claims of equal passion
    a thousand bed springs prophesying

    Like

  15. for what seemed like several years
    he told us his bitter story of loneliness
    conventional romance
    was as if one scraped their ass
    with a sharp knife
    constant shyness and nervousness
    secretive love letters
    containing night-time words
    full blast adult words
    all his life he walked the path of obstructiveness
    he showed us his wallet
    and it was full of jealousy
    knowing the way of the stick people
    I knew it wasn’t simple jealousy
    IT WAS SEXUAL JEALOUSY
    he was being driven crazy
    thinking about the antics of others
    those who were concealing their motives

    Liked by 1 person

    1. At the Seed Bank of Placebo Town
      Agenda Benders are permanently
      set on full Carnivorous Compulsion.
      Being switched to extreme itch,
      they are often found twitching and
      ejaculating on the stony ground.
      The Supreme Order of Compulsory
      Karma fails to strike fear into the initiatives of Disneyland Trauma.
      Despite the Mickey Mouse Club Pox
      running rampant in Florida, and
      Mick Jagger donating his space
      cotton socks to the victims of Viagra, humans and rodents alike are totally
      barefoot and out of order.

      Like

  16. it was the kind of gathering
    where prime characters
    were taking pills
    (@) TRUTHTELLING PILLS
    one older lady spoke
    of hostile feelings she was experiencing
    hostile feelings first aroused at the Honeymoon Hotel
    the origin of her pain was below the level of conscious thought
    she was a library and her husband was happily reading her at random
    in defiance to grammar, lovemaking introduced with odd tenses and genders

    Liked by 1 person

  17. her family became interior decorations
    mixed heights and colors
    circles and squares
    she constantly handed out cigarettes
    no one could start too young
    as for celebrating violence and cruelty
    she refused alliance with the criminal class
    cutthroats were everywhere
    tattered and easy to identify

    Liked by 1 person

  18. the bride packed numerous flashlights
    they were very powerful
    and cast cruel shadows
    they were like lies
    in a way
    by marriage she was forced to believe
    lies expressed with heroic effort
    she was a pack-mule
    Peggy Guggenheim
    she labored with the whole earth
    resting on her shoulders
    the art world shrank down
    to a simple image
    drawn on a farm house wall
    a tractor in crayon by a child
    a family of Caucasians
    dwelling on their whiteness
    they were finding it difficult
    to be sure of themselves

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sixteen years
      Sixteen banners
      united over the field
      Where the good shepherd grieves
      Desperate men,
      desperate women divided
      Spreading their wings
      ‘neath the falling leaves
      Fortune calls
      I stepped forth from the shadows
      to the marketplace
      Merchants and thieves,
      hungry for power,
      my last deal gone down
      She’s smelling sweet
      like the meadows
      where she was born
      On midsummer’s eve
      near the tower
      The cold-blooded moon
      The captain waits
      above the celebration
      Sending his thoughts
      to a beloved maid
      Whose ebony face is beyond communication
      The captain is down
      but still believing
      that his love will be repaid
      They shaved her head
      She was torn between
      Jupiter and Apollo
      A messenger arrived
      with a black nightingale
      I seen her on the stairs
      and I couldn’t help but follow
      Follow her down past the fountain
      where they lifted her veil
      I stumbled to my feet
      I rode past destruction
      in the ditches
      With the stitches still mending
      beneath a heart-shaped tattoo
      Renegade priests
      and treacherous young witches
      Were handing out the flowers
      that I’d given to you
      The palace of mirrors
      Where dog soldiers are reflected
      The endless road
      and the wailing of chimes
      The empty rooms
      where her memory is protected
      Where the angel’s voices whisper
      to the souls of previous times
      She wakes him up
      Forty-eight hours later
      the sun is breaking
      Near broken chains,
      mountain laurel and rolling rocks
      She’s begging to know
      what measures he now will be taking
      He’s pulling her down
      and she’s clutching
      on to his long golden locks
      Gentlemen, he said
      I don’t need your organization,
      I’ve shined your shoes
      I’ve moved your mountains
      and marked your cards
      But Eden is burning
      either get ready for elimination
      Or else your hearts must
      have the courage
      for the changing of the guards
      Peace will come
      With tranquillity and splendor
      on the wheels of fire
      But will offer no reward
      when her false idols fall
      And cruel death surrenders
      with its pale ghost retreating
      Between the King
      and the Queen of Swords

      ~ Bob Dylan

      Like

  19. every year at Christmas
    we prayed that Santa
    would bring us
    white skins
    (@) Hieronymus Bosch
    the lavatory attendant
    would print your last name
    on a small blackboard and for $2
    he would erase it as you exited spent

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Commissioner Gordon
      asked Hieronymus Bosch
      to give Placebo Town
      a big medieval makeover,
      but he turned the offer down.
      Hieronymus likes the place
      just the way it is. He even
      bought a condo there,
      overlooking the lake of fire.
      Francisco Goya often visits,
      spending his holidays there.

      Like

      1. masturbating to the TV show, “Batman”
        there was always that moment
        when Commissioner Gordon
        would pick up the Bat-phone
        and place a call to Batman’s butler
        I always tried to orgasm
        when the red phone flashed

        Liked by 1 person

  20. a lucky participant at the truck stop showers
    The Loyal Order of the Neighborhood Suckle Club
    facing the naked test of humanness
    was I white enough ?
    dreams last night about having an extremely long arm
    I could reach up to the stage
    and Mick Jagger would ride my thumb
    dreams about talking suitcases I enjoy
    criminal vending machines
    not so much

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The recently discovered Quark Star
      was asked what it wanted, but
      it had never heard of Mick Jagger

      A steady stream
      of subatomic particles
      was all it really needs
      Like the Twitter feeds
      of Earth bound humanoids
      and their online news service
      would more than suffice
      Plus the occasional truck stop
      for a quick fuel up
      with some alien vice

      As a Quark Star has all
      the attributes of a black hole

      Liked by 1 person

  21. people stare at my lower limbs
    and ask, “can you walk ?”
    no one wants to know about my trickle of water
    that I’ve never stood in front of a urinal
    sometimes I think about a reality machine
    put in a quarter and for 30 seconds
    I can walk
    put in a quarter and for 30 seconds
    I can piss anywhere but in a bag

    Liked by 1 person

  22. dreams of stainless-steel teeth
    leaving marks on mechanical legs
    darkened hollowed-out eyes
    a sure sign the curtain will soon fall
    common people born brainless
    nonstop torture night and day
    the words of Robert Frost
    coughed up and saved

    Like

    1. Holy Moses met the Pharaoh
      Yeah, he tried to set him straight
      Looked him in the eye,
      “Let my people go!”
      Holy Moses on the mountain
      High above the golden calf
      Went to get the Ten Commandments
      Yeah, he’s just gonna break ’em in half!

      No one ever spoke to Noah,
      They all laughed at him instead
      Workin’ on his ark,
      Workin’ all by himself
      Only Noah saw it comin’,
      Forty days and forty nights,
      Took his sons and daughters with him,
      Yeah, they were the Israelites!

      Holy Father, what’s the matter?
      Where have all your children gone?
      Sittin’ in the dark,
      Livin’ all by themselves,
      You don’t have to hide anymore!

      All you zombies show your faces,
      All you people in the street,
      All you sittin’ in high places,
      The pieces gonna fall on you!
      All you zombies show your faces,
      All you people in the streets
      All you sittin in high places,
      It’s all gonna fall on you!

      ~ The Hooters

      Like

  23. the guy on the evening news
    mentioned my upcoming surgery
    everything was to be removed
    with a butter knife
    YES
    they tried sticking spores from Switzerland
    into the heart of my bones
    odd lights from UFOs
    even the touch of a beautiful woman
    but I remain crustacean

    Liked by 1 person

  24. (+) MULTIPLEMICHAEL (+)

    two brains in one skull
    daddy and mommy Michael
    constantly afraid of the future
    they daily check the eyes of the cows
    cutting back when the whites turn grey
    with the handbrakes of an ancient bicycle
    trying to slow down on the egotistical path

    Liked by 1 person

    1. They’ll come crying
      and I’ll lead them
      as they pray for mercy
      I’ll make them walk
      by streams of water
      along a straight path
      on which they won’t stumble

      ~ Book of Jeremiah

      Like

  25. autopsy after autopsy
    everything mends
    mathematicians keep tabs
    on the codeine
    the girls at the clinic
    ask about my astronaut pants
    acquaintances without romance
    they struggle to see my junk
    no more additions or corrections
    very impressive, very definitive

    Liked by 1 person

    1. At times by burden
      is more than I can bare
      Science seeking answers
      Shakespeare providing assurances;

      “Rough winds do shake
      the darling buds of May,
      And summer’s lease hath
      all too short a date.
      Sometime too hot
      the eye of heaven shines,
      And often is his gold
      complexion dimmed;
      And every fair from fair
      sometime declines,
      By chance,
      or nature’s changing course,
      untrimmed;
      But thy eternal summer
      shall not fade,
      Nor lose possession
      of that fair thou ow’st,
      Nor shall death brag thou
      wand’rest in his shade,
      When in eternal lines
      to Time thou grow’st.
      So long as men can breathe,
      or eyes can see,
      So long lives this,
      and this gives life to thee.”

      Like

  26. paper cut-outs at the mental health lair
    conversation balloons
    filled with the names
    of the doctor’s immediate family
    he showed signs of fear
    I told him I needed something
    to slow me down
    that I never sleep
    I told him that I felt discarded
    translucent and discarded
    he was sweating alcohol
    and twisting his eyebrows
    I showed him my socks
    and made mention of his

    Like

  27. I told him that I needed something
    to slow me down
    that I never sleep
    I told him that I felt discarded
    translucent and discarded
    I was really white under the office lights
    he was careful to avoid
    being psychically wounded
    by my whiteness
    he knew there was a sense
    of self in my socks
    there was shame in his

    Liked by 1 person

  28. the poet was a boy robbed early
    licked a thousand times
    and told that there was a need for salt
    you tried to hire a famous television personality
    to construct a protective zone around your manhood
    standing next to him you could hear an AM radio station
    to see was seeing, to hear was hearing
    Satan taking a daily poop in Paris
    listeners were calling in and asking, “why”
    it was sort of obscene
    logs falling
    from the Eiffel Tower
    notes for a poem
    rather than the poem itself
    you tried to hire a famous television personality
    to wipe down your lovers ankles
    your lover over-crowded
    with offers to count
    backwards

    Liked by 1 person

    1. My tortured confession
      Waterboarded
      And stone washed
      Failed the acid test
      After returning a false positive
      Yet compulsive quarantine
      On a celluloid negative
      Was obsessively the best
      Serrated innocence
      A melting mattress
      With Salvador and Gala
      Graciously hosting
      The Collective Paradox
      Reality congealing
      Where you least expect it

      Like

  29. notes for a poem
    not the poem itself:
    a funeral urn
    with a skeleton
    decorating the exterior
    Gore Vidal fanning
    the sweating bones
    Gore Vidal thinking
    about Satan squatting in France
    claustrophobic thoughts
    about his rear interior
    caveman art inside
    images without narrative

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Babies on fire
      Freebasing petroleum
      Raining crustacean
      Over Eiffel the Tower
      Rubber cadaver stranger
      Singing Maurice Chevalier
      With both ends burning
      In the mire of clay where
      Myra Breckinridge’s underwear
      Live to stray another day
      The Great Satan of Ayatollah
      A lock, stock,
      And two smoking barrels
      Rock ‘n’ Rolla revolver
      Born in the USA
      With love from Iran
      Goes Hollywood Frankie
      On a summer holiday
      Atomic the pandemic
      In a Mexican Standoff
      Gore Vidal and Philip Roth
      Remembering the Alamo
      Now have nothing to say

      Like

  30. I showed up at the Robert Frost Memorial
    with a trumpet
    and they asked me to leave
    Death came and took him away
    it took away all there was to take away
    and I was so upset that Death
    left so much behind
    he’s there in every spoon
    of solitude
    he’s there in every question mark
    every lukewarm cup of tea

    Liked by 1 person

  31. the wheel fell off the bicycle
    the steering wheel
    came off the automobile
    the future wife with a Colt .44
    asks why she smells ham salad
    knowing you’re a vegetarian
    the future wife finds it progressively harder
    to grasp your genitals

    Liked by 1 person

  32. the local librarian claims that Robert Frost
    was SELF-CREATED
    (@) Robert Frost
    he was a swimmer with a mission
    the product of a painful orgasm
    holding too much
    for too long
    the function
    was without noise
    or commotion
    daddy penis out of breath
    mommy thinking “no more of that”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Self-saucing poetry
      is a Placebo Town delicacy
      A wild beast in the kitchen
      and a facilitator of debauchery
      when eaten on your knees
      under a blood wolf moon
      In the grip of a deep
      lycanthrope frenzy
      Brown sugar
      fairy floss
      and all things nice
      covered in hot spice
      Rolling stones tumbling the dice
      It’s a fine line to squeeze
      between poetic pleasure
      and gluttonous greed
      All thistles and puppy dog tails
      Slugs and snails
      The need to exceed
      with pants down
      in the back streets
      of Placebo Town
      where excess spells success
      expelled on the ground

      Like

  33. riding around with Johnny Cash
    the windows rolled down
    no one was safe
    Johnny loved it
    when I wore my Moses skin
    no longer connected to a bed
    or breathing through a tube
    I was Superman in make-believe
    surrounded by cartoon characters
    eating ham salad sandwiches
    denying religion and Karma
    I was Moses lubricating
    the weariness of existence

    Liked by 1 person

  34. Placebo Town
    traced and retraced
    the city was one of signals
    surfaces slick and pedestrians more slick
    especially males, supremacy without struggle
    white people whether lovely or loathsome
    patriotism for people right or wrong
    history damaged is a bad sign
    the fruit of children rotten

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The refugees of patriotism
      scoundrels, abominables,
      mild mannered Klingons,
      and veterans still returning
      from the jungles of Vietnam,
      huddling under the rubble
      of a rotten cotton schism.
      Placebo Town white royalty
      made rich on the scarred back
      of black slavery.
      Yesterday is a dirty prison.
      Only 160 years
      since Abraham Lincoln.
      Just moments ago there
      was enforced segregation.
      Human history is in need
      of a good bitch slap.
      Today’s shit didn’t just happen.
      The statues glorifying
      Confederate soldiers,
      and slave traders,
      truly need to come down
      and consigned to a museum.

      A bullet
      from the back of a bush
      took Medgar Evers’ blood
      A finger fired the trigger
      to his name
      A handle hid out in the dark
      A hand set the spark
      Two eyes took the aim
      Behind a man’s brain
      But he can’t be blamed
      He’s only a pawn in their game

      A South politician preaches
      to the poor white man
      “You got more than the blacks,
      don’t complain.
      You’re better than them,
      you been born with white skin,”
      they explain.
      And the Negro’s name
      Is used it is plain
      For the politician’s gain
      As he rises to fame
      And the poor white remains
      On the caboose of the train
      But it ain’t him to blame
      He’s only a pawn in their game

      The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers,
      the governors get paid
      And the marshals and cops
      get the same
      But the poor white man’s used
      in the hands of them all like a tool
      He’s taught in his school
      From the start by the rule
      That the laws are with him
      To protect his white skin
      To keep up his hate
      So he never thinks straight
      ’Bout the shape that he’s in
      But it ain’t him to blame
      He’s only a pawn in their game

      From the poverty shacks,
      he looks from the cracks
      to the tracks
      And the hoofbeats pound
      in his brain
      And he’s taught how to walk
      in a pack
      Shoot in the back
      With his fist in a clinch
      To hang and to lynch
      To hide ’neath the hood
      To kill with no pain
      Like a dog on a chain
      He ain’t got no name
      But it ain’t him to blame
      He’s only a pawn in their game.

      Today, Medgar Evers
      was buried
      from the bullet he caught
      They lowered him down as a king
      But when the shadowy sun
      sets on the one
      That fired the gun
      He’ll see by his grave
      On the stone that remains
      Carved next to his name
      His epitaph plain:
      Only a pawn in their game

      ~ Bob Dylan

      Like

    1. To quote John Lennon … again:

      As soon as you’re born,
      they make you feel small
      By giving you no time
      instead of it all
      Till the pain is so big
      you feel nothing at all

      A working class hero is something to be
      A working class hero is something to be

      They hurt you at home,
      and they hit you at school
      They hate you if you’re clever,
      and they despise a fool
      Till you’re so fucking crazy,
      you can’t follow their rules

      A working class hero is something to be
      A working class hero is something to be

      When they’ve tortured
      and scared you
      for twenty-odd years
      Then they expect you
      to pick a career
      When you can’t really function,
      you’re so full of fear

      A working class hero is something to be
      A working class hero is something to be

      Keep you doped with religion
      and sex and TV
      And you think you’re so clever
      and classless and free
      But you’re still fucking peasants
      as far as I can see

      A working class hero is something to be
      A working class hero is something to be

      There’s room at the top
      they’re telling you still
      But first you must learn
      how to smile as you kill
      If you want to be like
      the folks on the hill

      A working class hero is something to be
      A working class hero is something to be

      If you want to be a hero
      well just follow me

      ~ John Lennon

      (But then, they’re only pawns in the game)

      Like

  35. inside the warm mouth of Placebo Town
    everyone will be more comfortable
    one day everyone will be
    huge crates of American pain pills
    skin patches that help selfish love surface
    you find yourself singing on the inside
    making notes for poems never written
    you purchase words that might jolt others
    honeymoon scenario after honeymoon scenario
    the over-crowded bed
    the Rabbi pointing
    numbers
    always numbers
    his enormous finger
    slick and sort-of-platypus

    Liked by 1 person

  36. (@) TIMES OF TROUBLE AT THE FRONT DOOR OF ROMANCE
    the school bus was crowded with pranksters
    there were predecessors
    autographs and art
    and there was the day the Rabbi shined the flashlight
    years of five finger abuse, chaos coated
    nothing escaped the light

    Liked by 1 person

  37. as impossible as it seems
    Siamese twins down the hall
    one marginal the other hopeless
    i swear I could smell ham salad with homemade relish
    paupers lined along the route of rapid release
    the pleasure of chemical make-believe
    seize and subdue and overpower

    Liked by 1 person

  38. sometimes talking with the Rabbi
    is like driving a car with four flats
    (@) Kentucky
    people living in poverty
    barely distinguishable
    from animals
    outdoors
    nature is converted to human purposes
    no longer free, saddled to perform
    sunshine and wind perverted
    violence open for market
    gun or club, your choice
    children for rent
    have your way

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Going up the country
      for a family insanguination
      A full moon Viking cremation
      Battleaxes at the ready
      The day will be long
      and bloody
      Ready to rewrite
      the Bayeux Tapestry
      Only the good
      and the vey bad
      get to have such fun

      Like

  39. poets in rags
    driftwood underpants
    sleeping naked afraid of flames
    the psychiatrist wearing gloves
    nicknaming the poets
    favoring lesbians
    (@) log cabins out of Popsicle sticks
    intimate relations outside the travel-agency
    a loving spouse who possibly faced the other way

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Well, there’s reasons for that,
      and reasons for this
      I can’t think of any just now,
      but I know they exist
      I’m sittin in the sun
      ’till my skin turns brown
      I just wanna say that hell’s
      my wife’s home town

      She can make you steal,
      make you rob
      Give you the hives,
      make you lose your job
      Make things bad,
      she can make things worse
      She got stuff more potent
      than a gypsy curse

      One of these days
      I’ll end up on the run
      I’m pretty sure
      she’ll make me kill someone
      I’m going inside,
      roll the shutters down
      I just wanna say that hell’s
      my wife’s home town

      Well, there’s plenty to remember,
      plenty to forget
      I still can remember the day we met
      I lost my reasons a-long ago
      My love for her is all I know

      State gone broke,
      the county’s dry
      Don’t be lookin’ at me
      with that evil eye
      Keep on walking,
      don’t be hanging around
      I’m tellin you again that hell’s
      my wife’s home town

      ~ Bob Dylan

      Like

    1. Contemptuously bent
      Compassion out of fashion
      A hole in the soul
      Savagely
      And ravenously rent
      Goodness
      Graciousness
      Great balls of passion
      Hot love heaven sent
      On an urgent
      Insurgent errand
      From high in the sky
      Burning bright as the sun
      Kindness and forgiveness
      For the many
      And for some
      The fruit of hard won wisdom

      Like

  40. just how many sharks does one swim with
    that one must disguise their birthday wishes ?
    24 hour autopsies next door
    stacks of people
    cumbersome obese people
    how many minutes does the tech spend
    with each miscellaneous organ ?
    just circle something
    what does it matter ?
    30 years ago there was a magnifying glass
    smooth cutting sharp scissors
    and expensive scalpels
    today it is a Sears handsaw
    and a small axe
    quick circles on the screen
    somewhere down the line
    mathematicians
    will organize everything
    somewhere down the line
    factories in China
    will produce more funeral urns
    the bohemian crowd
    will want crazy shapes
    and corrosive colors
    husbands and wives in the same urn
    dusty acquaintances, Freudian fibers

    Liked by 1 person

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