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

6,405 thoughts on “The Tower of Song”

    1. my little Lolita
      the next-door neighbour’s
      pubescentual daughter
      could not get
      her school dress
      hitched up any higher
      sitting there
      in my passenger seat
      whispering something sweet
      about how now
      that she’s sixteen
      nobody would dare say
      that I was a paedophile
      and make a scene
      if I were to pull the car over
      park for while
      and give her a lesson
      in how to pleasure a lover
      on the way to school
      I politely replied
      that nothing would be nicer
      but I’m no gun for hire
      and no jailbait’s fool
      my frontal lobe
      is the only organ
      I can freely share with her
      at least untill
      she’s a couple of years older
      or I find
      a really good lawyer

      Like

  1. Eve came from Adam
    incest
    talk around the water cooler
    it can’t be right
    reality
    a pinch off God
    GOD SUFFERS PARENTAL DEPRIVATION
    quick, a myth about origins
    (+) nothing Reader’s Digest

    Like

  2. one can purchase Josephine Baker jelly
    a taste vulnerable to temperature
    a hint of adolescent sweetness
    ———————
    ———————
    a spoon of “unscrewable”
    good for a lifetime

    Like

    1. I’m sure
      a spoonful of sugar
      would help little Lolita
      go down
      so fine
      like a feline
      that purrs
      when you’re kind
      why should such
      sweet medicine
      be a heinous crime?
      in another place
      in another time
      I could purchase her
      from her Viking
      widowed mother
      for just
      a nickel and a dime
      my very own
      playful kitten
      in front
      and behind
      then put her to work
      in the kitchen
      cooking my dinner
      but in the meantime
      because she’s not mine
      I walk the line

      Like

  3. those who live long enough
    become a participant in the adult sexual circus
    Adam with his homoerotic nature
    spitting seeds on the serpent inside Eve
    ———————
    ———————
    Eve on her back
    with an endless train
    deep inside her tunnel
    pirates, prisoners, back stabbers
    insensitive blond dinosaurs
    boy scouts missing feet
    lesbians wanting pie
    weird gold fish

    Like

    1. Pirates plying
      the Pelvic Sea 🌊
      under the Jolly Roger 🏴‍☠️
      keel hauling the consentual
      seeking a hectic spanking
      after walking the plank
      plenty of goldfish 🐠
      in the deep blue sea
      buccaneering lesbians🗡️
      and swashbuckling librarians ⚔️
      sailing free and easy ⛵
      pillaging and plundering
      the Pelvic Sea 🏝️

      Like

  4. she looked up at her husband
    silently thinking,
    “you may have your train deep in my vagina tunnel
    but I am in the wash-room brushing my teeth”
    archaeologists
    geologists
    geographers
    once she discovered her type
    the struggle was over
    hubby got his share
    when she felt horny
    her husband
    became her older brother
    best sex she ever had
    lifting her off the bed
    with his thick dong
    lifting her off the bed
    till she sprayed piss

    Like

  5. made a mix of Leonard Cohen and Nick Cave
    often crying, the Mermaids gone
    darker moments
    poison ivy
    never one for sacrifice
    okay with average dimensions
    vulnerable to amphetamines
    I stop
    when I can’t spell simple words

    Like

  6. the library powder room
    pillaging and plundering
    girls being girls
    (Placebo Female Seminary)
    at night a trail of glowing semen
    unmistakably snail in nature
    (+) heterosexuals forced to say that the man of noon
    was mightier than the man of the moon (+)

    Like

    1. in old Placebo Town
      the girls just wanna have fun
      fully blessed with feathery down
      all around their concaves for sex
      fleshy lumps and hungry bumps
      primed to replicate
      with a ferociousy placid agenda
      staying up late
      discussing convexes
      comparing appendages
      that come with a placenta
      “I have an idea! Let’s go
      play with your little brother?”
      as my Uncle Ernie would say
      thank heavens for little girls
      they grow up
      in the most delightful way

      Like

  7. roll you up in carpet
    and leave you for days
    —–ask me if I know anything about reality
    take away the pain
    and it is meaningless
    like late night television
    ————-
    ————-
    lesbians dropping their hankies at Yosemite
    combination hikes
    sex and tenderness
    pissing openly
    a public squat
    (+) piddle on poisonous flowers/valentines

    Like

    1. the emotive cavalcade
      an objective correlative
      motives that cascade
      survival is relative
      amongst the ruins
      secretive the shame
      private reasons
      personal obsessions
      the stains that remain
      trauma is the formula
      hard wired in the brain
      pervading every corner
      there is a sure cure
      in the form of a Saviour
      with all authority and power
      the mind of Christ
      in my rock solid tower
      no matter whatever
      the world throws against me
      being forgiven
      is more than a feeling
      it’s a state of pure freedom

      Like

  8. I own two pairs of pants
    underwear made for a circus
    3 public tee shirts with pockets
    3 at home scuzzy tee shirts with pockets
    multiple thick black surgical stockings
    no shoes
    I have an excellent night porter
    he’s physically perfect
    so attractive
    sometimes
    I cry

    Like

    1. dressed for the street
      in second hand clothing
      neither pristine nor neat
      donated to charity shops
      a tee shirt without a pocket
      prestained Levi jeans
      and a discarded leather jacket
      I may look like I’m homeless
      but I’m saving myself a packet
      the wife doesn’t complain
      in fact … she rather likes it

      Like

    1. it’s never easy
      on the road again
      for a Dylan-Opium junkie
      his vinyl collection all stolen
      in a land hungry
      for the constant consumable
      streaming as from heaven
      the mean streets of Placebo
      taught me to be minimal
      even to go commando
      since the great underwear embargo
      when the carnal became the usual
      with no fig leaf left
      in the garden of Eden
      The Night Manager’s will be done
      Medication without end
      in Placebo Town
      as it was in Sodom
      Digital Come
      Analog Go
      Amen

      Like

  9. talking to reflections in puddles of water
    relatives blow snot and ask me to remain silent
    my night porter has wings
    I know
    I was nervous at first
    why should I be so lucky ?
    (Google cautions that in the future I may be his night porter)

    Like

  10. simple reflections
    inform me
    that
    womenfolk
    vanish like rats
    before the house collapses
    phone numbers are no longer valid
    a computer voice responds negatively
    lost friendships
    suitcases and coffins
    anemic shadows, erratic

    Like

  11. pOETRY wORKSHOP:
    stand in awe
    movie stars
    WADE
    (first) the haunted house
    digital handwriting compromised
    penetrated, imagistic grief leaking
    an expectation, day follows night
    Michael wishes to balloon across

    Like

    1. pORTAL wORKSHOP
      meets at night
      in Vladivostok
      to gaze longingly
      at Marilyn Monroe’s
      tunnel of pure light
      and to freely discuss
      their inner most feelings
      It was very touching
      when Vladimir Putin
      talked so fondly
      about his dear mother
      Maria
      and how much
      he truly misses her
      reading aloud in Russian
      his lovely poem
      revealing how
      she conceived him
      without original sin
      I commented to Comrade Putin
      how he must be so very proud
      and that he should celebrate
      his Bolshevik mother
      with an all out invasion
      of some country not his own
      … possibly Poland?
      it never entered my brain
      he’d pick a fight
      with the Ukraine
      pORTAL wORKSHOP
      exists in the twilight zone
      where all roads will lead you
      to the bright lights
      of Placebo Town
      a black hole that some call
      Home Sweet Home

      Like

  12. I find myself
    the center of grief
    others wade across
    escape and start new
    pencil sketches of Honeymoon Michael
    white buttocks with Hollywood tan lines
    ignorant of death without resurrection
    Death sniffing
    the debt due

    Like

    1. he came back begging
      the one who
      tried blackmailing me
      saying …
      “I didn’t think you’d reply due to
      the grief I caused you recently.”
      Good Grief!
      It was more a relief
      to cross him off
      my busy social calendar
      he even asked if we could catch up
      over coffee
      instead of lawyers
      guns and money
      being very forgiving
      I told him (to go fuck himself)
      not to bother
      being a Jedi master of stealth
      who’d trained him
      as a young padawan
      opening up a doorway
      to great wealth
      with adventure aplenty
      the “recklessly criminal scandals”
      he thought he had over me
      were all in his fevered imagination
      and so long ago
      that the Statute of Limitation
      had well and truly kicked in
      to think that he’d end up
      conspiring with the Empire!
      I’ll just have to graciously decline
      the invitation
      to his upcoming Sith wedding
      burning bridges are no good
      for double crossing
      over to the dark side
      with the Trade Federation
      Padmé Amidala has no idea
      of the storm that’s coming
      perhaps I should rescue her?

      Like

  13. Leonard Cohen is warning everyone of Taylor Swift
    sights and sounds recorded by a fly on a corpse
    at best, mindless uncertainty
    a prankster who deposits
    her eggs in innocents
    expectant lunch

    Like

    1. Taylor Swift warned me
      about the Miami Labyrinth
      all those who enter there
      must answer questions three
      the ultimate fate of Leonard Cohen
      who wins and who loses
      on a blind date with a lesbian
      apart from Bob Dylan
      and the secret name
      of the Head Librarian
      Taylor then warned me
      that lovers are gonna bite
      so prepare for some pain
      like a Tay Tay taser to the brain
      such a sweet treat on fright night

      Like

  14. neighing in the darkness
    the penis
    accommodating its needs
    people in the lobby stare at the floor
    ————
    ————
    the servant-machine may die in birth
    completely ignorant of Taylor Swift
    a malicious juvenile jester
    stuffed in a thin
    jumper skin

    Like

  15. music terribly aggressive, neurotic
    a female Sputnik with small breasts
    she has faded from the public imagination
    bedridden with romance, Taylor Loving Swift
    a vulnerable target for Cupid
    playfulness
    then intercourse
    (+) Taylor becomes Adele
    (+) Adele becomes Lady Gaga
    (+) Lady Gaga becomes Madonna
    (+) Madonna becomes Roseanne Barr

    Like

    1. ( – ) like a bat out of hell
      Roseanne Bar becomes Meatloaf
      ( – ) Meatloaf becomes P!nk
      or medium-rare to Adele who orders
      Uber Eats in her underwear
      as Taylor Swift is not man enough
      for Kevin Spacey who got off
      after getting high with an American
      beauty and all the unusual suspects
      ( – ) the Serpent in the Garden becomes
      Mick Jagger swallowing a microphone
      at a Hell’s Angels concert in Altamont
      as the Californication gets red hot
      ( – ) Hell’s Angels become combine
      harvesters working the bible belt

      Like

  16. 3 hour pOETRY wORKSHOP
    no one offered to solve the riddle
    nursery rhymes, some from the side of the road
    buy a pumpkin, talk of a mouse running up the clock
    thoughts jog up the mind, remembrances loudly chime
    HICKORY DICKORY DOCK, beware stray thoughts
    physical beings floating, the invisible visible

    Like

    1. genital mutilation put to song
      unidentified aerial phenomena
      that’s 3 hours of your life gone
      Poetry Workshop is an enigma
      wrapped up in a lunch box and
      shrouded in a condominium
      where genital mutilation can
      become one’s favourite pastime

      Like

  17. the poet who is exhausted, perhaps empty
    falls back on UNPLEASANTNESS
    subject matter that undercuts
    the positive with the negative
    ————-Michael standing in the shadows
    in a circle of unpleasantness

    Like

  18. Nick Cave
    what price is he willing to pay ?
    caring and upright, ghostlike ghoul
    black bat wings for hair
    myth-pool eyes, sunken
    sincere concern for Mother Earth
    what price is he willing to pay ?
    ———–
    ———–
    a bookcase of flaws
    tiny eyes backward

    Like

  19. psychoanalyzing yourself
    putting it in print
    waking up
    to write
    poke holes in the wall for oxygen
    to peek at monsters doing adult things
    in one corner, an acoustic guitar
    guilty of musical masturbation

    Like

  20. the movie, “Misery”
    how many times did Annie Wilkes
    have to deal with bathroom functions
    piss and poop from her beloved author
    daily hands on the anal valley, the spout
    (+) the typewriter missing “n”
    (+) the lack of people of color

    Like

    1. the rat catcher left
      for the Garden of Eden
      saying something about
      how Placebo Town
      ain’t no Funky Town
      or was I only dreaming
      as the head librarian
      held me firmly
      in her slipstream?
      For some reason
      she now only lets me
      take out one book at a time
      and only after a bout
      of her strictest discipline

      Like

  21. THE RATCATCHER
    boy-o-boy
    shadows
    from the past
    you want to hide
    you want to bring out the gun
    you fear something you might regret
    the smell of “reaping the profits”
    the smell of burning tires
    being left behind
    with shortcomings

    Like

    1. I get the occasional postcard
      from the Rat Catcher
      saying …
      “Wish you were here in Funky Town.
      It’s just like Eden, only funkier! ”
      I’m so glad he found his Shangri-La
      after all the rats that he caught
      lurking about at pOETRY sOAPBOX
      and hawking their self help books
      may their comings be short
      just like the rest of us rodents
      nesting in the crannies and nooks
      of crooks and nannies
      trying hard to forget
      the Hickory Dickory Dock we got
      at the Placebo Town Library

      .

      Like

  22. when people ask me
    what I really enjoy:
    on a video of Radiohead, “Creep”
    a guitar player in the background
    who has god awful hair
    plays his guitar
    like my friend, Skitter
    when he tries to start his chainsaw
    the sin of his bangs hanging down his face excites me
    only a nasty boy would do such a thing
    the way his arm attacks the guitar
    like masturbation gone wild

    Like

    1. without mathematics
      there would be no music
      what came first?
      natural law … or
      the rhythms of the universe
      that lead us on
      to the supernatural
      with a burst of awe
      and a curious thirst
      the hidden vibrations
      within every atom
      at the command
      of the Most High Creator
      the variations expanding
      the imperfections
      for worse or for better
      that make us all human
      molecules weaving
      substance from nothing
      as reality seeps
      from a timeless vacuum
      out of thin air
      a higher conciousness
      is forever calling all
      us creeps in the darkness
      asleep in the tomb
      buried in the gloom
      of the deepest trauma
      the rhythms of the universe
      tuning in to Radio Karma
      high on life’s drama
      both a blessing and a curse
      in the Mind Temple of Doom
      always the choice
      listened to Slayer
      … or the Saviour?

      Like

    1. I know Noah
      loved his animals
      more than me
      on his great big boat
      saying that
      he wasn’t my mother
      but at least he did feed me
      whatever his pets didn’t eat
      those animals got far too fat
      it’s a miracle
      that Noah’s Ark stayed afloat
      so much for two of a kind
      there was only one of me
      but Noah didn’t seem to mind
      that Patriarch of the Ark
      could be very unkind
      like throwing Steven Spielberg
      overboard
      when we hit an iceberg
      after an alien close encounter
      of the fourth kind
      saying that crazy jew
      was out of his mind
      when the spaceship left
      with the woolly mammoths
      I was happy to stay behind
      as obviously Steven Spielberg
      was not on Noah’s List

      Like

  23. as you well know
    the good stuff is in town
    (Halloween)
    my night porter scored
    I am amazed at the distance
    looking back, I am no longer in sight
    I enjoy leaving myself behind
    I am selfish
    having a new self

    Like

    1. always plenty
      of good stuff
      going down
      in Placebo Town
      where the going gets tough
      at wOETRY pORKSHOP
      where the money is tight
      unless you’re ready to fight
      and can handle the slop
      where fright night
      is a basic human right
      for neither the living
      or the dead
      but somewhere in between
      like a regular citizen
      being bled
      and then fed
      on high octane caffeine
      where everday
      can be Halloween
      like a hot shot to the heart
      and a rupture of the spleen

      Like

  24. themes and symbolism
    may be the duty of others
    thrift stores full of driving plots
    motivated characters, outdoor sex
    right before she tossed the baby out
    she said that she was tired of diapering it
    we smoked a cigarette in silence, maybe two

    Like

    1. after visiting her doctor
      to get a contraceptive stent
      inserted in her arm
      little Lolita
      bought a pair of angel’s wings
      at the thrift shop on the corner
      saying she meant me no harm
      but I couldn’t hear her
      in my head
      there was a ringing alarm
      she’s young enough
      to be my daughter
      and I’m no Jerry Lee Lewis
      fresh from the farm
      (may his great balls of fire 🔥🔥
      rest in peace 🙏 with
      goodness and graciousness 😇 )

      Like

  25. E. Dickinson and her contraceptive stent
    cruelties and injustices/wetting the bed
    the price she paid/love notes from sailors
    love channeled far away on the seas
    boys, my legs spread/bargaining

    Like

    1. the cycle unbroken
      next stop
      Armageddon
      did Cain kill Abel
      his blue eyed brother
      for being well hung
      or just for the thrill
      and because he was able?
      the bigger the weapon
      the better the outcome
      Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping
      both bear that mark of Cain
      (and a very small dong)
      an unbroken circle
      engraved into the brain
      In Placebo Town
      don’t be caught dead
      without one!

      Like

    1. INSATIABLE
      seduction gravitational
      have suitcase … will travel
      till the Eve of Destruction
      on a trail of trouble
      amongst the human rubble
      like a vagrant Adam
      evicted from Eden
      after double dealing
      with the Devil
      and his angels fallen

      Like

  26. the television has gone to another tongue
    people look the same
    meal after meal
    shit/piss
    people stay at hotels
    so they can walk on the beach
    the sun encourages their flesh to peel
    the sand poisonous with fecal bacteria
    ———
    ———
    my night porter purchases (most exuberantly)
    the good stuff from Switzerland
    where afterwards one can
    stand and walk away

    Like

  27. letter-friendships
    mail art
    brilliant and perceptive
    pent-up images/words
    ——–
    ——–
    a collapse of skin
    earring holes
    that made me
    barf
    I asked him— woman or man
    I asked her— woman or man
    a collapse of skin
    earring holes
    that made me barf
    ——–
    ——–
    childish playfulness
    peeing in public
    the tip of the stream
    challenging
    peek

    Like

    1. the tip of the stream
      human consciousness
      comatose
      as in a dream
      seeking wholeness
      wandering the aisles
      at Walmart
      lasting longer
      and better than sex
      fulfilment in a shopping cart
      always the question
      demanding an answer
      … what to but next?

      Like

    1. once upon a time
      when Robert Smith
      was young
      the Cure committed
      the mischievous crime
      of blowing out my eardrums
      by deliberately putting
      their guitars out of tune
      the ensuing high volume
      throbbing disharmonic bass
      took off the roof
      launching us all
      past a curious Wolf Moon
      into outer space
      with some of the audience
      crashing into the Sun
      whilst the rest of us
      were sent black hole diving
      through an eventful horizon
      Robert Smith himself
      was in tears of joy
      after the deed was done
      as down his face
      the mascara flowed
      past his grinning chin
      for me …
      it was money well spent
      as we left
      now totally deaf
      my friend Leon screamed
      if you want a cure
      then get their latest album
      . . . Faith
      as for Leon
      no truer words
      ever were spoken

      Like

  28. Placebo Town
    just feet from the Lord
    and I stayed in the automobile
    with sister alley cats
    kissing and loving
    and what did I
    carry away ?
    the Lord would be the Lord
    but my masculinity
    it was counting
    down
    the scrap pile was growing daily
    Michael this and Michael that
    parts worn out
    rarely replaced

    Like

    1. the human race
      scratching in the dark
      for the good stuff
      laced with a trace
      of what rodents
      love to taste
      that knowledge
      less of good
      and more of evil
      every bite
      leaves it’s mark
      so they nibble
      in great haste
      devouring the lot
      lest any goes to waste
      sufficient to say
      they could all do
      with a hot shot
      of enduring grace
      but since Cain
      murdered Abel
      many seem unwilling
      and apparently unable

      Like

Leave a reply to David Redpath Cancel reply