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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3,924 thoughts on “The Tower of Song”

  1. June overlooking her husband
    Johnny and a guitar
    no factory line
    no coal mine
    just a tune
    or two
    (+) something for supper other than squirrel (+)
    Johnny so old
    has to be squeezed
    to pass the cornbread
    Johnny so lame
    no strings on
    his guitar

    Like

    1. Uncle Jack
      a beloved elder
      of my tribe
      the Snorta Snorta
      has passed on
      to the Never Never
      where he walks the Dream Time
      We all recognised the omen when
      a pet kangaroo killed it’s owner
      Uncle Jack was the Medicine Man
      who first diagnosed me
      with Intermittent Explosive Disorder
      and then miraculously cured me
      with a strict course of opiate addiction
      and a nuclear egg timer
      When it came to pharmacology
      and psychology
      Uncle Jack was the master tactician
      He will be sorely missed
      by all of Snorta Snorta’s drug users
      Each and every one of them
      hidden out of mind and out of sight
      in public housing
      now deeply mourning him
      with one last rousing rendition of
      Uncle Jack Will Get You High at Night
      During the heartfelt singing
      I gazed up to the sky and saw
      Uncle Jack looking down smiling
      He cared nothing about
      my cultural appropriation
      as it was he who initiated me
      as a Snorta Snorta tribe member
      for the price of a beer and a cigarette

      Like

      1. a pair of ratty flip-flops
        a pet kangaroo that died
        looking up at the sky
        the dead are smiling
        new arrangements
        plot twists
        adding to yourself with teardrops and spit
        buy your wife a new bra, symmetry

        Like

  2. David Bowie on TV (Blackstar)
    illness by memory and association
    rehearsing death over and over again
    Michael critique sessions always stormy
    dicks, the library lesbians, simple sodomy
    alcoholics complain about going public
    the love of drugs, having a night porter

    Like

  3. Robert Frost quote:
    “If you reach a fork in the road
    turn around and return home”
    —————-
    —————-
    sodomy: appreciation into participation
    savor the anguish, it will vanish
    blink at the senior citizen
    bagging your groceries
    let him know
    you understand
    he is facing fear
    of uncertainty
    vulnerable
    and exposed
    dragging hurts

    Like

    1. In my daily routine
      Executives executing
      Managers managing
      To sell things
      Flip-flops
      Undergarments
      Tattoos and nose rings
      On the pavement
      Where reality stings
      With the art
      Of concealment
      Everything all the same
      In my dreams
      I’m hacking
      The mainframe
      Of a metaverse
      Computer game
      Where pieces
      Of Noah’s Ark
      And the remnants
      Of Eden’s garden
      Digitally photographed
      Are being downloaded
      By some nerd with no name
      The password is always
      Just out of my grasp
      The Dream Time Kingdom
      Is not for the tame
      It is taken by force
      That spirit of boldness
      Always strong
      Going headlong
      Against the grain
      In my daily routine
      Broken lives fighting
      Against the drain
      Or forsaken
      Just surrendering
      To the never ending pain

      Like

      1. in my daily routine
        I only see humans from a distance
        a machine answers the phone
        there is a backup if it fails
        I go outside to shop
        never the same grocery
        clerks ask to marry me
        strangers offer me their funds
        it gets complicated/difficult
        (+) the night porter drops me off at the door

        Like

      2. whilst driving
        the next door neighbour’s
        pubescent daughter
        each morning to school
        she insists on doing
        mischievous little things
        that would make
        even a dead man drool
        her knees in the air
        all of the time
        as I’m trying hard
        to concentrate on driving
        tying up her shoe laces
        pulling up her socks
        and adjusting her knickers
        even plucking
        her bikini line
        with a pair of rusty tweezers
        all the while giggling
        I don’t know how much longer
        till I just have to pull over
        and give her
        a damn good spanking
        would she beg me to quit
        or ask me to keep on going?
        Is it a risk worth taking?
        sadly … I think not
        but then
        her widowed mother
        keeps on asking me
        to join her for supper
        around here
        things have got a load harder
        since her unfortunate husband
        the accident prone Viking
        went off to war
        leaving a sex starved wife
        and a very promiscuous daughter

        Like

    1. these days
      the more things free-range
      deranged and strange
      the more tangible the danger
      these days
      anything can be arranged
      with a handful of small change
      just make
      an unreasonable offer
      these days
      the less you give
      the more they take
      of your sizeable karma
      these days
      everyone is on the make
      even the nightly news is fake
      reality is what’s left over

      Like

    1. those Sarmatians are at it again
      barbarians pillaging the temples
      marauding Costoboci
      desecrating the inner sanctum
      and taking all our sacred objects
      away with them
      a plague on all their houses
      or whatever caves they dwell in
      the more things change …

      Like

  4. PANDEMONIUM
    constant agitation
    swollen vulva red hot
    “You with issues of control”
    (girl slit on the other side of the car)
    your hands on the steering wheel
    nostrils wet with the fumes
    the past swept away
    now, opportunity
    another chance

    Like

    1. my little Lolita
      could not be any sweeter
      a spoonful of medicine
      helps the sugar go down
      in a frenzied lap dance
      as the Ritalin® slips in
      there’s nothing quite like
      an oral methylphenidate
      a pleasurable spank
      of antidepressants
      with no underpants
      the unmistakeable aroma
      of jail bait on heat
      now lingers
      upon driven fingers
      in the back seat of my car
      one small dose of her potion
      could land me in prison!
      did l drive this thing too far?
      or Is it just a figment
      of my fevered imagination
      in need of urgent sedation?

      Like

      1. 100 people had the same thought
        NO UNDERPANTS
        it wasn’t me
        I know of contrasts
        and substitutes
        I avert my gaze
        protuberant
        hemispherical breasts
        hairless knockers
        it wasn’t me
        I know of contrasts
        and substitutes

        Like

      2. It seems just like the other day
        sniffing petrol with my tribe, an
        ancient ritual of the Snorta people,
        when Uncle Jack began to prophesize
        “One thousand may fall to your left,
        ten thousand may fall to your right,
        all without underpants, but be sure
        to ask humbly for Multiple Michael ‘s
        forgiveness, and prosperous will be
        your life amongst the Snorta Snorta.
        As long as you remember to keep
        your hands off the dead neighbour’s
        daughter … and his young wife.”

        Like

  5. Nick Cave sings, “look for me”
    as someone turns up the microwave
    the glow, the sound, circles around Nick
    a lock on each word, a lock without key
    bird tracks written on moving clouds
    talent obvious but ART not so much

    Like

    1. Jimi Hendrix in overdose
      David Bowie on IMAX
      Nick Cave arising from the grave
      Art monetised and sanitised
      Don’t forget to sing while you save
      and to pay your Placebo Town taxes
      Once it’s gone you’ll never get it back
      that unmistakeable sound
      of a dying breed born of a bad seed
      as homogeneous is now the new black

      Like

  6. her part opened slightly
    a fat knob begging entrance
    leaking semen, terrible thorns
    she recalled the handbook warning
    “RUN SISTER, RUN”
    better anticipation till death
    covered with teats
    no place to go

    Like

    1. It’s Spring
      down under
      flower festivals
      here and there
      Summer coming
      Summer loving
      already in the air
      like a premature orgasm
      Moondoggie surfing
      all rigid with Gidget
      near naked
      with no underwear
      Summer fun
      living without a care
      just as it must’ve been
      in the Garden of Eden
      that’s me in the corner
      wishing I was there

      Like

  7. the restless eyes overlooking Placebo Town
    those who commit fornication
    Yes, commit fornication
    against the Lord
    the mighty sting of the penis
    sperm attached to splinters
    from the Holy Cross
    sisters polluted
    and defiled
    blood
    outside the body
    hindrance turned red

    Like

    1. the Placebo Town Floriade
      a festival of flowers hungry
      and dangerous
      is blooming
      in all it’s springtime glory
      with the blood of innocence
      the High Priest Horticulturist
      blessed the event
      with a toast to the Floral Beast
      followed by a carnivorous feast
      of things spawned
      in mysterious compost
      don’t miss it or you’ll be sorry
      there’s a ravenous venus flytrap
      with your name on it
      and a black tulip
      tipped with curare
      whether you want it or not

      Like

  8. 100 Sundays
    in September
    holding the Ladder
    first Adam and Eve climb down
    evil weighed to the soil by mountains
    grappling hooks holding back sinners
    I tell those on the way up,
    “nothing simple about unmediated vision”

    Like

  9. the gateway to the feminine body
    resting beside the path
    the opening denies
    entrance
    some say that the Queen was Lady Poverty
    a clean, well-scented mother harlot
    she who mounted the Cross
    with Christ
    she who joined in sexual union
    with a high spiritual dignity
    modern art, Expressionism
    (+) infant Michael sucking the bosom of Poverty

    Like

    1. clay can be made
      into many useful things
      pots, cups, ashtray, and bowls
      given a good firing in the oven
      it can even be shaped into molds
      for casting things golden
      and beyond careless destruction

      Like

  10. photographs of Michael sucking the bosom of Poverty

    kindled inspiration
    spontaneous understanding
    every hungry adult, starving child
    predators who rip and swallow their young
    boundaries between
    the old and the new covenants
    fade away in the darkness of night

    Like

    1. “Wie Muttermilch!?”
      the sweetest lesbian librarian
      a strict Germanic disciplinarian
      asked of me as she had me
      in a foetal position
      My philosophical reply
      whilst sucking my thumb
      was that I know absolutely nothing
      except the taste of domination
      was corrupting and edifying
      all at the same time
      It wasn’t exactly poetic
      but it got the job done
      to both our satisfaction

      Meanwhile outside
      . . . as inside a tiny cavity
      all of creation was imploding
      A child of the razor’s edge
      sucking from the bosom of eternity

      Like

  11. ask yourself, “why are you eating tater tots ?”
    when Jesus is having pancakes in Heaven
    why at every cheap motel
    the sound of horses mating
    is never coming from your room
    when checking into a flea-bag
    my cousin shows them the scar
    where he once had a manhood
    often he gets a discount
    he writes poems
    about harvesting tear ducts
    being gored by a wild boar
    he talks up “Jesus eating pancakes”
    Christians ignore him
    ——DRUGS——

    Like

    1. skirting the circling pain
      my cousin took his dog
      and pick-up truck
      to somewhere quiet
      and did the Kurt Cobain
      my Uncle sent a letter
      not a thing written on it
      as the words got lost
      nothing left to explain

      Like

  12. Johnny plays the guitar
    June floats above him
    as a young boy, Johnny
    feared the foreshadowing
    of circumcision
    rites of violence
    when quizzed about his family
    he came up blank
    “people in Hell
    are easily forgotten”
    (+) one Christmas, Johnny got a dozen $10 guitars”

    Like

  13. I tell my wife that there are no females in Heaven
    after all these years, she manages to get angry
    her Reader’s Digest Bible
    soaked in gender bleach
    polite (light) religion
    females have lost their place in the parade
    mothers busy carving their names
    punching the clock
    pumpkin spice
    ice tea crotch

    Liked by 1 person

    1. the coming
      was so hard
      and penetrating
      with gleeful relief
      that barriers were broken
      to a future hidden
      underneath a distant horizon
      with seeds erupting
      as joyful weeping
      awoke the unspoken
      loving fruitful
      from ending to beginning
      generously flowing
      with spurts of pure rhythm

      Like

  14. I am famous
    laboring in the wilderness
    and Jesus asks me to share
    I give him my last biscuit
    my single swig of water
    I am famous
    sometimes I see
    the shadow of the giant
    but never the giant himself
    he that is elevated up above all
    it is maintained that he is the Church
    Antichrist Baby
    twisting and shouting
    to cryptic Beatle currency

    Like

    1. I am infamous
      a ghost with no name
      at the centre
      of the known universe
      looking for someone to blame
      as everywhere I look
      there is heartache and shame
      yet I continue to partake
      in this God forsaken game
      even the music of the spheres
      and the taste of angel’s tears
      has become rather lame
      the once loud and proud
      residents of Placebo Town
      even the young and rebellious
      seem to be broken and tame
      diminished economics
      shrink wrapped in plastic
      by the endless politics of pain

      Liked by 1 person

  15. Nick Cave:
    Robert Frost tossing hippies towards the sun
    nothing is more valuable than beauty
    nothing is more valuable than love
    EVERYBODY HANGING FROM A TREE
    screaming horses with their black lungs
    common whore monkeys flashing their behinds
    full of suspicion and fierce with the need to reproduce
    (+) I snap my fingers, twist and shout

    Like

    1. shake it up
      maybe how
      twist and shout
      in an empty place
      a teenage rampage
      leading nowhere
      but with style and grace
      the surplus
      without purpose
      of a mindless rat race
      checking out
      the latest fashions
      in Cosmopolitan Magazine
      a zeitgeist of waste
      like a spurt of jism
      floating in outer space
      reactions and repercussions
      like a squirt of mace
      to the face
      reaping the reproductions
      at the Honeymoon Hotel
      where that teenage outrage
      at the dark heart
      of Rock ‘n’ Roll
      has always been on sale

      Like

      1. my whole life I thought I was white
        an idiot brought back a mirror
        from NYC and guess what
        I’m far from white
        I may not be
        human
        (+) at the gate: obliged to reconstruct my history
        (+) lost without spontaneous understanding

        Like

      2. I know nothing about this
        black or white business
        that the Artist Post Mortem
        Formerly Known as Prince
        would sing about
        being the wrong person
        in the right place
        I was mistaken
        for a Messianic Jew
        being exiled on Main Street
        in down town Damascus
        then imprisoned in Iran
        by the Morality Police
        for being the wrong race
        and for listening
        to Goat’s Head Soup
        at the Golden Mosque
        I should never have gone
        to Nineveh via Babylon
        they only released me
        after growing
        a hairy beard on my face
        and changing my burka
        for a pair of short pants

        Like

  16. a million moons
    first rule: don’t urinate near camp
    second rule: use your poop as bait
    third rule: don’t sleep in a nest
    the path from grief and misery
    where cruel hearts turn tame
    who can pronounce its name

    Like

  17. Placebo Daily
    with a color photo
    the woman who climbed on the Christ Cross
    Lady Poverty
    the Queen of Modern Art
    the Mother of Words
    look closely at Adam
    her seal bright red
    (+) a loud pop as Adam was pulled from her bosom

    Like

  18. I angered the crowd
    when I pointed out that Christ was her first husband
    Lady Poverty spread thin
    sufferings
    not only for love
    but also the desire for more
    ———
    ———
    ———
    in the shadow of our hero’s death
    Poverty, her woman part wide open

    Like

    1. From the safety
      of great distance
      witnessing
      the civil unrest
      even the martyrdom
      of those brave enough
      in the name of freedom
      to stand up
      again oppression
      In their place
      would Iran far away?
      Would I have a choice?
      Is the curtain
      coming down
      on Placebo Town?
      Is it time to flee
      or pass around
      the ammunition
      join the rebellion
      and rejoice?

      Like

    2. In the shadow of a minaret
      Mahsa Amini
      her head cracked wide open
      from behind a black shroud
      Our Bleeding Lady of Slavery
      a martyr for the angry crowd
      demanding more freedom
      No love from their God
      Leaders demanding submission
      ruling from above
      high on a minbar
      with an iron age rod

      Like

    1. gleaning in the barren pastures
      of Placebo Town
      after a harvest of wrack ‘n’ ruin
      as the Earth itself
      convulses and ruptures
      Our Lady of Poverty manifests
      riding a hurricane’s crest
      with lightning bolts of wrath
      shooting from her breasts
      breathes her last and expires
      then suddenly I wake up
      . . . it’s time for breakfast

      Liked by 1 person

  19. haunting words:
    +(living seedtime, dumb to harvest)+
    returning home
    the parents
    rotating
    an odd
    velocity
    corrupt
    —–
    —–
    kindred physical and spiritual natures
    therein and therein alone living seedtime

    Like

    1. the starving at least
      have their mobile phones
      they never ever leave
      their homes without them
      just in case
      they find some relevance
      to their docile existence
      or need an ambulance
      and their last rites
      from Judas the Priest
      the harvest is happening
      the reaping is continuous
      like the religious yeast
      that’ll turn a man
      into a beast
      will it ever cease?

      Like

    1. Pain is at the heart of addiction
      Life itself is at the heart of pain

      “You know, the only thing
      that kills the demon … is love.”

      ~ Mickey Knox

      “We’ve heard that a million monkeys
      at a million keyboards could produce
      the complete works of Shakespeare;
      now, thanks to the Internet, we know
      that is not true.”

      ~ Robert Wilensky

      “People grow when they are loved
      well. If you want to help others heal,
      love them without an agenda.”

      ~ Mike McHargue

      Like

  20. I went outside in the hurricane
    and friends feared for me
    after all, it wasn’t to be
    just a simple storm
    not Yahweh
    ——incessant nocturnal wakefulness——
    flooded by memories
    travels unspoken
    my night porter
    my hero

    Like

  21. I am not required to complete the work
    —-never free to desist from it—-
    Placebo City
    the frontier between the sacred and the profane
    with all the Michaels, Michael seems empty
    all sounds and sights are evidence of a search
    blessings hidden like Easter eggs
    to share love, to share more love

    Like

    1. the Gambler
      and the Dealer
      the storm raging
      the waters surging
      Mother Nature
      a cleansing enema
      the Lover
      and the Stranger
      a sacrament
      from the Labyrinth
      of the Holy Enigma
      for the Guest to rest
      only the very best
      the Traveller
      and the Night Manager
      the name of the game
      Fight or Flight
      Inclement weather?
      Yes … we deliver!
      the Drifter
      and the Reaper

      Like

    1. after a final meal
      at the Pink Elephant
      with all the doors
      and windows boarded up
      I made my last stand
      floating face down
      in the Boca Grande bayou
      as the causeway
      to the mainland
      had been swept away
      I dare say
      this is the last time
      I neglect to evacuate
      who knew?
      who could tell
      that a hurricane
      named Ian
      a shit storm
      from the Caribbean
      would come this way
      hitting the fan
      blowing us all to hell?
      perhaps I should’ve stayed
      all safe and warm
      at the Honeymoon Hotel?

      Like

  22. many people live ignorant of bounty hunters
    mental fog and confusion
    big fat rattlesnakes
    hidden
    in the sock drawer
    the crazy sister that gives handjobs
    as a churchgoer, no blacks or browns
    honest critiques of the small and the grand

    Like

    1. I was
      left sitting
      on top of the World
      after Our Lady of Poverty
      had finally finished with me
      when I was racially profiled
      by Nirvana Rama
      the Sith Lord of Placebo Town
      as an Alien Being
      His official adjudication:
      “When you’ve reached
      a level where you don’t need
      other people
      pharmaceuticals
      or things
      to realise your full potential
      then you’re no longer human.
      So, do enjoy your sabbatical
      in Nepal, and try not to meddle,
      as I am the Anvil and the Hammer,
      but you may call me the Devil.”

      Apparently the “full potential”
      didn’t add up to a hill of beans
      for this particular “Alien Being”
      Perhaps I shouldn’t be listening
      to a word that Sith Lord is saying?

      Like

    1. there’s no escaping
      the Planet of the Apes
      with all sorts of carnivores
      and high-tech chimpanzees
      stranded on a launch pad
      at Cape Canaveral
      Nimrod has lost the space race
      to a horde of Mongol invaders
      with their lasers set to kill

      Like

  23. upstream from Hades
    postcards can be purchased
    paper scars that sport a voice
    “rites of violence, sweet boys
    dick cut identity and manhood”
    upstream from Hades
    locals stand on the bank
    waving farewell
    first the smell
    then the sound

    Like

    1. flesh has been
      officially downgraded
      since the advent
      of Retro Armageddon
      now the angels
      up in heaven
      gaze down upon humans
      doing their daily shopping
      and mowing the grass
      thinking . . .
      “What the hell are they doing?!”
      whereas the fallen ones
      full of envy and spite
      look up at your ass
      working it hard
      both day and night
      thinking . . .
      “And we’re the dumb ones?!
      Get that flesh out of my face.
      Man, what a sight!”

      Like

  24. new reality show for mainstream America
    “Progressive Repair for Past Evil”
    man/woman becomes MAN
    no need for chest nourishment
    or that reproductive apparatus
    ————————-
    ————————-
    the woman no man desires
    the woman who never says “no”
    Mother of Modern Art
    both grandeur
    and degradation
    grown from a complex heritage

    Like

  25. Adam was aware of beauty
    he often masturbated to a beauty greater than Eve
    his love for Eve could survive only upon enchanted ground
    after their exit from Eden, Adam thought poorly of Eve
    puckering her lips, no longer able to pronounce words
    she was little more than ugly, wet with serpent seed

    Like

    1. with strange danger
      around every corner
      some come to seek
      as others try to hide
      from Our Lady of Instant Karma
      somewhere near Mesopotamia
      where the Garden of Eden once stood
      Eve covered up in a cursed burka
      for the sake of knowledge primal
      both the evil and the good
      her children taken on a carnival ride
      where life has become just a circus
      where the Ringmaster wears a hood
      whispering
      … “You’re a genius!
      You too could be a god/goddess.
      You need just take a bite
      to get out of this mess
      and forget about the weather,
      poverty, and that instant karma.
      We can get out of it together? ”

      Like

  26. held over from before she was born
    she had no last name
    how many times was she born
    to be thrown to the beasts
    brothers and sisters
    with their necks wrung
    Lady Poverty
    her children harnessed to one another
    marching toward condemnation

    Like

  27. Lady Poverty rules
    her empty bowl and deformed spoon
    no adoring fans only victims
    constantly evolving
    placards replaced with flat screens
    overweight women holding up
    starving children
    “FEED US”
    surrealistic imagery
    babies inflated in a sickening way

    Like

  28. Woody Guthrie
    loved to badmouth
    the Lady Poverty
    she was his meal-ticket
    nourishing his career
    placing him in the spotlight
    Woody wasn’t rock and roll
    more like rough-edged folk
    (+) omniscience coexistent with ignorance

    Like

    1. ignorance is the primer
      of human endeavour
      it gives all creeds and cultures
      their highlights
      theirs colours
      it turns little kittens
      into ferocious tigers
      it even gives Lady Poverty
      her palette of splendour
      without it no Nirvana
      chaos and transgressions
      on Earth as it is on canvas
      Heaven’s angels look down
      and say …
      “That looks so cute!
      Stupid, but nice.
      A splash of omniscience
      and those humans
      would be dangerous!
      Then who’d pay the price?
      Is it worth the risk?”

      Like

  29. all I know
    bite down on the stick
    and press the release button
    sometimes it works
    one walks away
    just another brick in the wall
    flesh not long naked
    a touch of pink
    black comes
    in shades

    Like

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