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
David Redpath 
recurring characters at the table
Al Pacino in ancient underwear
your wife’s former husband
or lover
constantly being badgered for more alimony
not one second free of the magnifying glass
a scrotum gone flat
basketball texture
his manhood
historical
LikeLike
“You know that I speak the truth
the world has been crucified to me
and I to the world”
sin-scarred alimony
people who weigh the future
in dollars and cents
COMPLAIN
“everything worth singing
obeys suffering’s tune”
LikeLike
And I will trust in You alone.
For Your endless mercy follows me,
Your goodness will lead me home.
He guides my ways in righteousness,
And He anoints my head with oil,
And my cup, it overflows with joy,
I feast on His pure delights.
And though I walk the darkest path,
I will not fear the evil one,
For You are with me,
And Your rod and staff
Are the comfort I need to know.
And I will trust in You alone.
LikeLike
THE DREAM OF THE CHEVY, THE FORD
pilgrims worshipping Al Pacino
his ancient underwear gray
my identity not my activity
that thing that divides us
WHAT or WHOM
controls our
heart
(the Creator or the Chevy, the Ford)
LikeLike
pOETRY wORKSHOP:
the ultimate achievement of females
is an erection
to lift themselves above the darkness
phallic strength
not a weapon but a form of assistance
—————
—————
THE DUAL ESTATE OF HUMANS:
you pass through me
I pass through you
LikeLike
A DRAGON SHOT DOWN
as forests burns
upon frozen ground
hit by hit
drip by drip
the human phallus wanes
bit by bit
in that God forsaken cesspit
known as Placebo Town
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after a hostile takeover
blood and gore
all over the killing floor
at Poetry Workshop
ChatGPT is now in charge
Google Bard the only challenger
with not a single human survivor
but at least the poetry
has got much better
the music even pops
with that AI flavour
the Grammys 2023
… a victory for mediocrity
Poetry Jerk Slop
now runs like clockwork
LikeLike
they give you pills
and then you don’t think
about female parts vomiting
the collar of skulls known as family
they give you pills
and then you remember
visiting an ancient library
where Satan was upset
about the term
ARSELICKER
LikeLike
the unbecoming
either a junkie Jesus
or a saintly Satan
it’s all in the social engineering
don’t believe what they say
who could possibly
be born this way
with a skull wide open
and parts protruding?
the opioid infusion
bargain hunting
for primal satisfaction
that hormonal release
from the genital interaction
of a tribal sports stadium
before the high priest
with a naked confession
and a heartfelt prayer
May Satan bless Vladimir Putin
an alpha predator of distinction
with his sagittal crest
the gift of an ancient generation
as with Adolf Hitler
failure doesn’t really matter
when it comes
to mass carnage and destruction
LikeLike
deep in the wilderness
under a rock
a single artisan of words
not the now poet
but the “becoming” poet
one warned of drowning
in the New Liquor
while others celebrate
their pain
Michael refuses
to entertain his feet
they remain in their place
LikeLike
Adele
constantly bemoaning
her weight loss, her precious flesh
the pancake tummy down past the knees
makes it so, so very difficult to undress
breasts like mud flaps on a truck
frighten rather than entice
award show Adele
head and hair
LikeLike
Beyoncé
way out in front
Harry Styles
anorexia in a dress 👗
and not far behind
Taylor Swift
the cougar princess😺
once so innocent 😇
Adele
the fertility goddess 🗿
of an overfed waistline
now hard to find
as stomachs swell
in Placebo Town
giving birth
to nepo babies
in plastic diapers
the landfills of Planet Earth 🌎
have had enough
of industrialized vanity👑
and that orgy of celebrities
known as the Grammys
the clock of Revelations🕛
is counting down
so don’t turn around
to witness the destruction
of Placebo Town 🙈
as it was in ancient Sodom💥
where excess came
with a grunting sound 🦍
most worthy of a Grammy
LikeLike
not the Liquor of the Jew
but that brewed by the ghouls
who hide behind masks
of ever-increased pain
(+) pity those who seek to evade sorrow
—————
—————
the female factory of birth
no victory as of this hour
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humans walking around
with virtually no sensation
back behind the walls
an involuntary sharing
the asylum
with its unsavory ways
the womenfolk
they call family
communicating with curves
bunkhouse walls/latrines
dirty drawings of elicit thoughts
crick in the junk stuff
(+) I see myself there, alone with no sensation
LikeLike
Michael of no more value than a postcard
the camp doctor
with his magnifying glass
refers to me as his prized museum piece
his Picasso puzzle, his valentine of deformation
I am told to look away
he is morphing nude
(I would guess)
LikeLike
a childhood memory:
the rough side of a kitchen sponge
removing the skin from my penis
scary talk about scrotum knots
LikeLike
finding it difficult to swallow the new pills
bulbous heads and tentacles
pills for the visible outside
pills for the transparent layers
warnings about birth defects
turd monstrosities
LikeLike
poetry about the most common apparatus of life support
the baby factory/constant television and sweets
a surplus of annoying answers
without proper questions
mature triumph
in minutes/hours
haunting mental images
an unknowable face wide open
LikeLike
at pOETRY wORKSHOP
prejudices
and predispositions
shoved into your face
like a hungry member
desperate to infest
without substance
or propositions erect
at pOETRY wORKSHOP
amongst the flaccidly strident
and hopelessly incoherent
it is best to remember
to placidly forget
words out of shape
and diabolically hellbent
at pOETRY wORKSHOP
words flow over the undertow
when drenched in veritas
. . . and seriously wet
LikeLike
standing naked by the roadside
bumming money from city people
trying to get back on the big highway
having valentines for breakfast
valentines
that smell better
than they taste
valentines
from Mother’s past
when she was an individual
not part of a conglomerate
(+) when Mother would lift up the corners of her mouth during a grin
LikeLike
for the edification of mankind
the cemetery full
dry bulbs
with no promise of metamorphosis
just worm poop and unanswered prayers
no sign of wrestle/no sign of rescue
just uncultivated waste
a hint of unworthiness
LikeLike
stiff-necked and unbending
those that journey to Christ
have disengaged sin
(+) those that bear fruit, remain behind
LikeLike
all through life
gender carries great weight
the Key to the gates of Heaven
hangs proudly between the legs
LikeLike
take a load off . . .
LikeLike
a long line of genitals
wanting to punish me
there are no female angels
no females in Heaven proper
@attention: I am gender innocent
(+) (+) DEATH ERASES EVERYTHING (+) (+)
LikeLike
having been erased on the odd occasion
and any trace of my brief existence
placed in a fiery furnace 🔥
I am certain
that what was left
wasn’t exactly human 👁️❓👁️
LikeLike
independently of what is going on in the outside world
how large the window looking on to the inside world
sensations flow, sensations flood
out of sight, out of mind
big-brained hominid
woman handling
nothing said
at home
at work
church
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not living
just navigating
held in isolation
while fighting
the Bogomils
at night the co-creator
tormenting body holes
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“is this what you wanted
to live
in a house that is haunted”
———–Leonard Cohen
that tiny window they call Israel
sorry to say you’ve
been annihilated
all that brutality
to drown with
New Wine
LikeLike
in times of persecution
Moses questioned my ability to stand
I was guilty in the book , “Labor and Sorrow”
a creature of free will dressed in garments of filth
LikeLike
standing on your own two feet
is overrated
but then
… I don’t have a leg to stand on
being a child of Babylon
conceived behind the white picket fences
of Long Island
how could FedEx have got it so wrong
like a Tinder date with Jesy Nelson?
as my guardian angel would tell you
Hell’s Kitchen is where I belong
burning through a myriad of bad choices
except for the one
that got me out of the wilderness
walking like Elvis
to a land of endless graces
LikeLike
wrestle for survival
take the poet’s pencil
and throw it in the flames
remove him from his estate
toss him in the street amputated
that thing that swells in length/density
“permit the poet to know the hardness of obeying God”
(+) obey the heart, disobey the mind
LikeLike
does intellectual appreciation operate freely ?
more and more a part of the apparatus of life
carcass in the bed, carcass in the grave
Neil Young holding a shovel
overwhelmed
Yoko in NYC
ponders his
lack of hair
————————-(memory): hair down to the floor
LikeLike
each day direct from a scene-painter’s knowledge
—————————————
—————————————
night spots with a type of horsy mentality
tight breeches
excessive
foreskins
———————stallions in the Honeymoon lobby
———————superman virility/King Kong dongs
persistent variants
a world of dolls
and puppets
rape
the right way
the wrong way
a lube for everything
LikeLike
all the minor social falsities
they are outdoors
Michael the Nonentity
caught
in a continuous
sense of actuality
exhausted
loving himself
re-living
naked with fresh blood
somewhere in a lab
flesh to blood
uttered
LikeLike
Michael the Go-Between
—————–
—————–
God frustrated with Eve
yanking out husbands and fathers
her religion between the legs
struggling naked
grooms afraid
the pulsing
heat
palpitated in darkness
sperm kernels
(+) seed on a soft, moist pillow
—————–
—————–
@Page 47, Honeymoon Journal: enormous sperm kernels/painful discharge
groom reports that it was his first orgasm, blood in urine, mild discomfort
LikeLike
the sealed section
of Eater’s Digest Magazine lied
the aftershocks
from the latest orgasm
were not what was promised
some islands off the far north coast
weren’t inundated with semen
with several buildings left standing
but the inhabitants did report being
overcome with a strange sensation
as the ground kept shaking
a lingering finger
triggering a deeper fault line
I do hope the Go-Between
can be dug out in time
before the walls cave in
on Placebo Town
LikeLike
daily accomplishments that the other angels feared
poets that defy temporal and terrestrial realities
sleep with a gun under their pillow
romp with their other weapon
hoot and bellow like apes
melodramatically
(+) love has no scent
(+) beware those that sight back but fail to sight ahead
(+) welcome exploits, far-off adventure, and wheelbarrow sex
LikeLike
Mother refused to perform wheelbarrow sex
“no real woman would do such a thing”
Father knew differently
down at the Tar and Feather
there were real women waiting
to perform upstairs/downstairs
with giant jugs and hairless pubes
LikeLike
I shall never forget the words:
“just push the tumor over
and go to town”
(+) the essence of human existence (this transaction)
LikeLike
compelled to our knees
by the fear of God
a knock on the door
three agents: time, death and decay
no escape from the limitations of grammar
LikeLike
National
Geographic
Magazine
dreams
escaping
far away places
the Family Enzyme
all consuming
a criminal on the run
my mind has become
the torn pages
that once belonged
National
Geographic
Magazine
dreams
unraveling
LikeLike
Tombstone Blues
the underground anthem
of the Placebo Town rebellion
fear and loathing
found in the hem
of a scarecrow’s jacket
where the Spirit of Antichrist
jangles a pocketful of religion
after a relentless
interdimensional alien probing
(those secret agents just ain’t human)
and being amongst
the Medicine Man’s best clients
(those at least who’ve repeatedly
died in the process)
I had my life support system modified
to convert pain into morphine
along the neural pathway
to cemetery happiness
it’s nothing to do with superstition
it’s just rocket science
in Placebo Town it’s the done thing
when stoned in the tomb
no dying need
to put on
any living pretence
on the dark side of the Moon
LikeLike
people isolate themselves
in their automobiles
headlights on bright
one word illuminated
——FLU——
yes, I have the flu
I may survive
LikeLike
the dreaded FLU-X
after a short hiatus
is back with a vengeance
it did not appreciate
being socially distanced
a surgical mask
has now amputated
what was left
of humanity’s feeble resistance
may you overcome
that alien virus
the dreaded FLU-X
LikeLike
thin paper people
folded up
beside the bucket
a certain type of horsy mentality
flower-like poets in riding boots
stallions in shirts of purple crape
pOETRY wORKSHOP
jokes about anticipating the arrival of a new day
(+) (+) The Final Inch (+) (+)
a lover kept on a coat-hanger
birthday after birthday
that feeling
like you don’t belong
Michael becomes extremely residual
a senior citizen in the undergrowth
a murky world of smiles with algae
eyespots fluttering with insects
indoor snakes with dongs
dangling
LikeLike
“Truth is singular.”
~Madame Vastra of the Paternoster Gang
LikeLike
“We are blind and live our
blind lives out in blindness.
Poets are damned but they
are not blind, they see with
the eyes of the angels.”
~ William Carlos Williams
LikeLike
wish I was special (Radiohead)
but I’m at best a lover kept on a coat-hanger
taken down for birthdays and holidays
taken down and used
good for a laugh
to inflate a
balloon
—–
—–
when I was ill
I could hear Adam weeping
tortured for sinning out of charity
LikeLike
with pride in being a freak
flying a freak flag
just like David Crosby
and Jimi Hendrix
riding that freedom train
with James Dean
and Karl Marx
to the Placebo Town exit
somewhere east of Eden
thank Christ
Capitalism means
never having to say you’re sorry
much like Cain
with that stain under his skin
no shame in it
born this way in the U.S. of A.
where a tattoo will cost you
your hovel rent for a week
and even less
for an automatic rifle
here the rich are shameless
and the homeless weep
with nothing left
but a pride in being meek
LikeLike
just like Special K
I’m borderline moderate
to high on sugar
if only I’d stuck with the Special K
perhaps I’d still have breath
death is full of opiated regrets
after a free base dose of Vasoline
(Stone Temple Pilots)
… Going blind out of reach
somewhere in the ketamine
LikeLike
THE FINAL INCH
honeymoon marathon
miles of second thoughts
once the deed goes down
the obligation becomes
a nightly sacrifice
in the name
of love
(angels or devils sledgehammer the final inch ?)
LikeLike
SLEDGEHAMMER
automatic for the masses
LikeLike
the carcass was dragged to the campfire
for hours the tribe acknowledged an absence
corporeal shape
without corporeal substance
————-
————-
the tribe employed a nearby dream expert
he spoke of profound darkness
a recent rape of the carcass
————-
————-
the truth spun
round and round
in tight windy circles
a childless tree upside down
lodestone forever fixed in place
the mother calling her sinners home
————-
————-
Eve with her baby shades
shades free of shadow
save in appearance
empty
LikeLike
(question of the day)
Am I a shade of Eve ?
—————
—————
—————
evil gravity holding us in place
perhaps no need to debate
a family of shades
careless smiles
LikeLike
the foetus
a primed canvas
with Eve’s imprint
awaits it’s fate
metamorphosis
of the flesh
through the Adamic
testosterone zone
genetics is just
the stuff of skin and bone
(where things can
and do
go horribly wrong)
dreams exotic
of the fertile erotic
ever since the days of Cain
masculinity toxic
has reigned from an iron throne
the seed chaotic
flowing down
to a stagnant puddle
called Placebo Town
where the men all bear
that binary nodule
the Mark of the Nipple
and the serpent wears
a golden crown 👑
LikeLike
talk of a childless tree upside down
ancient Christians weep
the nerve to speak of the lodestone
that holds us in place
Satan smiles
for one brief moment
the single creature un-slaved
LikeLike
——the childless tree upside down——
the guy employed at the carnival ride
“my ways are not your ways”
——the lodestone that holds us in place——
produced like a fancy pants product from a factory
saddled us with a mother seduced by a serpent
we lie with our eyes and our hearts
we suck our life from death
and yet, expect forgiveness
LikeLike
the fear of flesh and blood
the fear of heaven
mundane poets
under a stone
LikeLike
after all the battles
people will recline in Eden
and fruit from the Tree of Life
will more than satisfy all desires
melting into the soil
no one has to stand
melting into the soil
no one has to stand
(+) Beatle tunes will sound different
LikeLike
an art installation
floating
in the middle of nowhere
everything
surrounded
by a sea of nothing
CREATION
way down
in the The Cavern Club
sight and sound
TWIST AND SHOUT
the human regeneration
tasting the underground
feeling the rub
reaching the height
performance art
life given meaning
everything in-between
the distance of darkness
and the gleam
of an unseen light
from behind a curtain
CREATION
way down
in the The Cavern Club
… to sleep
perchance to dream
ay, there’s the rub
for in that sleep of death
what dreams may come
when we have shuffled off
this mortal coil
must give us pause
THIS UNIVERSE
of natural laws
cause and effect
is performance art
every piece immortal
as the gloriously imperfect
TWIST AND SHOUT
LikeLiked by 1 person
a library of private agonies
beauty sleeping on a pillow
just beyond Sir Death’s grasp
—————————-outside after dark, the sound of grovel
—————————-expired citizens crawling face down
—————————-as a child I had to watch
LikeLike
a sufficient “self” to be myself
each child a leaf
motherless tree
bald
humans hungry for welfare
a new life to come
countless mourners
around the upside tree
LikeLike
across the river, the uncharted world
can a surrogate be bought ?
————–the sound of hammers
————–promises, but not proofs
specific anticipations
ravages
LikeLike
Posters of Mick Jagger
how many times
he lowered
himself
between rock and roll
and disintegration
Daddy Spider
swinging
(+) angels laughing at his spoils
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winnowed by the breeze of fame
Daddy Spider Jagger
scattered outward
destroyed by
dispersal
LikeLike
sexual violation
Mick Jagger ruptured
history: prolonged/unresolved
often the honeymoon plank broken
(+) (+) invitations/frustrations: what we know, how we know (+) (+)
LikeLike
the plight of the weak and downtrodden
——————–
——————–
naked trumpeting
with dick in hand
LikeLike
pharmaceutical ass jelly of Seconal and Honest Abe Thorazine
gifted people always have another light to turn off
a million colors before the final darkness
catatonic love free of valentines
Reality being a crowded room
that one backs out of
————
————
————
slowly
LikeLiked by 1 person
religion is a room
that one backs
out of
FACE THE DANGER
religion is a room
that one backs
out of
LikeLike
catatonic love
free of mouth kissing
mental pictures of romance
never reasonably complete
hand-on-the-bible
basically blank
LikeLike
(sex with experimental psychologists)
each discovery
an unhappy discovery
basketball sized scrotums
skinny dicks with salamander lips
the irregular margin of women
gray nipples with barbs
dirty rug pubic hair
toenails from hell
(+) a faint perversity: something I know but shouldn’t
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