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 
unfolding before escape from bed
reality (unknowingly) gravitation
——————–
——————–
vibratory rapport
spasmodic
ocular eye
squeezing one off in the shower
an irritation at first
later exhaustion
(+) no stale Michael sperms
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Adam, servant
Eve, birth mother to serpents
They crawled outside Eden and took root
Big Secret: spiritual beings attached to human bodies
Bondage:
Marriage to sin
Factory breeding
Feeding death
(+) To add insult to injury—silly talk of love
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last night
we all went out for dinner
the Viking mother
and her daughter
me and my lovely Linda
so I ordered little Lolita
a cocktail drink 🍹
and then another🍹
she was soon showing off
her cute new runners
all white & pink
and how well they match
her pink & white knickers
I now fear
that Lolita’s mother
is a bit jealous
I think perhaps
I should buy her
a pair of white & pink runners
as I know already
she too has some matching panties
. . . or am I just lost
in a mindless fantasy? 🤔🕶️
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God informed Adam and Eve
that their nakedness
was a sign of their enslavement
Homo Sapiens: Intelligent Livestock
Hairless apes that enjoy singing and dancing
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poets who daydream about reentry
find themselves fixated
on the cloaca
no detour
too great
(+) Holy people live in spite of death
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the beat poets
of Placebo Town
drink cloaca cocktails
and interpret the entrails
of a naked lunch
till the fix goes down
and the sun comes up
daydreamers
creating substance
from the essence
of flatulence escaping
the deepest crevice
of Placebo Town
William S. Burroughs
sleeping rough in Paris
Allen Ginsberg howling
in his underpants
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flatulence escaping
A Holy Toot
eating pancakes
with the Jesus crowd
Eve owns the crevice
“the deepest crevice”
the whole population
squeezed out of
even the dinosaurs
and Noah’s Ark
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“sleepers in the quiet earth”
dead people thirsty
for a dirty cloaca cocktail
———-
———-
the thought of a serpent coiled around your neck
a homeless bum with his finger in your mouth
———-
———-
what benefit the sun in Hades ?
the strangulation of light
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chosen people
drift by
under the banner of Gog
no shouting or waving of the arms
those who confess circumcision
will be crucified
chosen people
under a strong delusion
they who believe the lie
have made sin a deliberate choice
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is there a difference between
wrestling with the self
and
wresting against the self ?
wounded and suffering
potential death
predators
the image of Jesus on a calendar
right hand quotes hopeful promises
left hand displays shabby deceptions
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Most of the major religions do seem
to have a secretive sect exclusively
for madmen. An interesting fact I’ve
learnt by watching the television 📺
and listening to Pablo Picasso, who
subtracted the pseudo abstract from
the division of superstition.
“Everything you can imagine is real.”
“There is no abstract art. You must always
start with something. Afterward you can
remove all traces of reality.”
~Pablo Picasso
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those who believe the lie
continue to sin
loving outside
any safety
God
would
permit
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I was initiated into the tribe
naked and circumcised
through the ordeal of fire
and then the spirit trial
by ayahuasca hallucination
at the hands of our witchdoctor
only to be sent out into the jungle
without a moment to recover
to see if I would survive
and return a proven warrior
but my desire was to see
what was on the other side
of the great dividing river
as I had heard the Shaman’s tales
of a mysterious Tower of Song
so I took the Chief’s
most sacred talisman
along with his virgin daughter
into the jungle with me
never to return
. . . not unless
the ancestors call my name
and the broken earth
sets my spirit free
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too much sin
to rest in a narrow bed
————
( no cemetery repast )
————
the angels that guide you to trouble
in accordance with the rules
refuse to help you detour
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A PORNOGRAPHIC LONGING FOR YOURSELF
mild masturbation grows additional fingers
sex reflecting from the eyes
sex leaking from the mouth
upstairs abuses downstairs
guilty fingerprints
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tribal taboos
spawned in the dark
aimed directly
at your private parts
hitting the mark
sensuality swollen
sensitive to the touch
with a tidal overflow
ready to blow
with nowhere to go
in a white hot rush
guilt laden whispers
of self-degradation
like a knee to the crutch
from a scheming demon
feeding on doubt
and mixed up confusion
thankfully
I’ve learnt my lesson
love is the question
abuse is what you do
to another person
when it comes to yourself
. . . not so much
all things supreme
in extreme moderation
guilt is spiritual kryptonite
and it always comes
knocking at night
whereas forgiveness
comes for free
as it flows from the light
“Old lady judges watch people in pairs.
Limited in sex, they dare
to push fake morals, insult and stare.
While money doesn’t talk, it swears.
Obscenity, who really cares?
Propaganda all is phony.”
~ Bob Dylan
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pulling peasants out of expensive automobiles
and returning them to peasantry
chain artisans to labor
remove spontaneous
from the dictionary
————–
————–
one book in the library
“Reproduction: The Living Purpose”
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THE FURNACE OF LIFE
crawl in and turn to ash
how much ash goes into making a Sodom apple ?
a fruit of vice, disease, tiny fingers, innocent eyes
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( Dylan, the man of straw )
all men are pioneers
in search of a passionate purpose
womenfolk gather under the streetlight
and feed moths and insects to their offspring
chatter and reproduction
the Bible tells me so
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this I know
nothing
of the polluted thoughts
used as evidence
in the Placebo Town courts
sloths in active wear on the jury
hearing the words of a prophet
yet finding him guilty
with the only witness
taking the fifth amendment
the sentence read out
by a Robert Frost Impersonator
claiming to be a poet
the electric chair unplugged
so death will come slower
and to reduce the cost
of blind karmic justice
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the soul throws strange shadows on the wall
poets secretly speak of Jesus and puberty
the realization that he was a man
the tremendous power
between his legs
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to make and unmake life
masquerading some godlike control
Robert Frost collecting words
that trees shed in fall
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Chaos be my father
his anvil my mother
words spred like the legs
of a licentious virus
evil chained to the ankle
as the dead beg for living water
the vile and the once glorious
to the sound of distant laughter
from a reality far higher
where creation sings
above the mire
an angelic choir
oblivious to the things
and the words that don’t matter
. . . rapture
contagious the righteousness
forged with love
in the fires of forever
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up above they labor
down below they beg
the colors of the rainbow
so distant they appear gray
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in between is the scene
seekers of the abstract
followers of this and that
products of the machine
minions under the dominion
of a capitalist death cult
rowing a sinking boat
. . life is but a dream
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talking to the underwear sausage
good enough for Adam, Jesus
aboriginal peoples
drowned men with erections
no magic, charlatanry
the center of all human activity
the horn of the highest
blood in the veins
BLOOD
from
the
LORD
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(+) recipients
victims of everything
analytical and critical
the minimum of choice
short-sighted
self-protection
empty/hollow inside
spiritual vision (repetition)
sensual vision (repetition)
dual fulfilment
one eye can’t
be trusted
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a lightning bolt from a cloud
or from a floating breath
wide open on pillow
seed leaking out
(+) the act of begetting (+)
wrinkled in feces
overreacting relatives
fatalistic, fixated on death
loving to toy with blasphemy
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crossing over into the uncharted
past the lights of Placebo Town
those who anticipate the worst
find total relinquishment
all property is lost
no parcel of self
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having employed scouts
to journey the correspondence
I am told in baby-talk and final gasps
that life is sensation and remembrance
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the Shaman’s apprentice
running with the Jihadis
high on Turkish coffee
and that terrorist captigon
as prescribed by ISIS
doing the berserkergang-gajang
under the strict instruction
of the Placebo Town Mullah
who walks the talk
like a mummified Egyptian
when my phone rang
📞 “Move over, Buddha,
and let Jehovah take over!”
the Dalai Lama
and Lobsang Rampa
declared the call
an existential dilemma 🤔🕶️
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there are those
who seal the doors, the windows
who trouble themselves with the clock
could it be sustained they figure
it would be Heaven on Earth
————
————
new Reader’s Digest publication:
“THE TRAGEDY OF FLESH”
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AGED FLESH IS A TRAGEDY
… the headline story this millennium
according to Playboy Priest Magazine
YOU MUST USE IT WHILE IT’S FRESH
in this age of the Predator Mammalian
it’s all the rage
so grab the nearest underage Philistine
and get a bit whilst it’s still in season
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frequently refused
Death confused
abandonment
forsaken
(THE VOICE OF THE VERSE)
God is angry at Earth apes
ignorant of his instructions
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ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE
get it all together
in the here and now
mixing it up with a bit of hope
and a mustard seed of faith
turns even an Earth ape
from a dope into something great
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Earth Ape
cannot make
incompatibles compatible
walking upright
an onlooker
of himself
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walking upright
with your junk upfront
is highly overrated
Meerkat’s do it all the time
Adam told me
in the Garden of Eden
even a serpent could do it
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++++++(+) the serpent was interior not exterior (+)++++++
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In regards
to the unmentionable
he who slithers on his belly
I try not to let
the theoreticals
or even the factuals
of an alternate reality
get in the way
of a good poetic allegory
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(+) if Eve bent over to touch her toes, part of the serpent would be exposed (+)
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Death is not the place to have authority
or rival the wealthy on Earth
Death is populated with thieves
cold and numb
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the question to answer: do you steal from the Lord ?
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. . . on a regular basis
thank goodness
for God’s graciousness
slow to anger
and quick
with the forgiveness
through Jesus Christ
as my perfect advocate
so no accusation of guilt
can ever stick
to a life vacated
with far too little
… and a little bit late
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just say, “NO THANKS”
to dunglike drinks
to corpselike food
the vapors of Hell
reality accessible
through holes
and cracks
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average apes from Earth
wind up in a Motel 6
far from Paradise
God and angels reside in the true Paradise
lucky babies raised by angels
reside close to the gates
NO females in Paradise
NO apes from Earth
Angels ignore
females
sometimes socialize with colorful apes
Apes with higher IQs jump ship
and reside in Placebo Town
I’ve lived here so long
I no longer have
what I arrived
with
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no escape
the husband
becomes the wife’s appendage
an apparatus of support
exhausted/discarded
an empty chair
at the table
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Leonard Cohen singing a song
sang a thousand times before
no longer able to pronounce
the lyrics
he mumbles
his lips like lusty worms
———
———
A THOUSAND KISSES DEEP
(- a license plate on a used car -)
a license plate that won’t stay on
a license plate difficult to remove
A THOUSAND KISSES DEEP
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A HANDFUL OF KISSES SEEP
from a temptress undressed
my resistance undone
by her enchantment so deep
with a standing ovation
for an outstanding oration
as skullduggery meets the ivory
that goes and comes
with a whole new lingua franca
for my sweetest Lolita
neologism flowing freely
from her ever inventive tongue
. . . if only
she was more than sheer poetry
Leonard Cohen
the Bard of the Boudoir
knows not what he’s missing
up there
in his Tower of Song
is he a member
of the midnight choir
or does he sing to creation
all on his own?
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a voice trying to lure you to the dance floor
instinctual behavior, ancestors and lunatics
no guarantee of safety
desire coated in danger
sequences of images
fragments
creatures pieced back together
suturing elbows and hips
HOLY surgery
more intrusive
than anything before
music amplified
coupling on the dance floor
physiques gone wild
in the realm of shadows
voyeurs
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an appendage
on the rampage
that little head
inside a teenage voice
with the promise
of things to be done
now that my little Lolita
has come of age
do I really
have any other choice?
am I lost
in all her sugar and spice?
should I hesitate
or continue
to have her cake 🍰
and eat it too?
that little slice
of the sweetest jailbait 🧁
all pretty in pink 🩷
through and through 💘
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finding it odd that apes would dance
without the womenfolk
exposing their behinds
bright blue
bright pink
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begging Jesus to cajole reality
into the semblance of forgiveness
not to point the bone
and say, “Be Gone”
busy
between waking and sleep
domesticity and adventure
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the midnight choir
a member of the midnight choir
singing to creation with real feet
NO MORE FOOTSTEPS WITHOUT FEET
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my biological father
the Caribbean pirate
known as Captain Stump Grinder
only had one foot
and a useless one at that
but this impediment
so to speak
from the knee down
that had him crawling about
on the ground
without a wooden peg to stand on
with the greatest respect
was a lifestyle choice
from hanging around too long
in the bordellos and taverns
of Placebo Town
like father
like son
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hanging around too long
——–OR——–
hung too long
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the authorities
did try their best
to hang
shoot
or even electrocute
that notoriously devious pirate
Captain Stump Grinder
but to no avail
all their attempts
at high seas justice
were a complete failure
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inescapable issues
role expectations
“we are just simple apes yet something inside us
yearns jealously over our spirts”
double-minded Michael
where God alone belongs
I’ve turned into my playground
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the Ark of the Lord is here
I warn fellow apes
pass on
destiny in hands
pass on
( the Lord is near )
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pOETRY wORKSHOP
( location: The Library of I Get My Way )
poets gone astray
drugs that convince
one
to journey outside
boundaries
words, thoughts, deeds
amusement park poets
seduced by sin
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all I ask:
to live as I was created to live
———–
———–
the final conclusion barks at night
closer and closer
as you live and drop
so shall you drop
in the hereafter
the pleasures of the moment
parked in the driveway
will not remain silent
they will scream
“THIEF”
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the opposition to creation
manifests in it’s Sunday best
dressed up in sheep’s clothing
with that stink of superstition
fear and loathing
seeping into oblivion
creation giveth
destruction taketh away
what else can I say . . . than
love is my bestest protection
in a hectic Universe
faithfulness put to the
Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test
“Abraham believed God, and it was
credited to him as righteousness.”
Now when a man works, his wages
are not credited to him as a gift, but
as an obligation. However, to the man
who does not work but trusts God
who justifies the wicked, his faith is
credited as righteousness.
~ Paul of Tarsus
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all things created
are laced with bondage
(+) insects whisper, “what God alone can give”
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drama in the Garden of Eden
God had to stop what He was doing
AND
dish out some severe punishment
perhaps the serpent deserved
his fate, more or less
Adam and Eve
were infants
not mobsters
or seasoned felons
God set in motion his plan
( rescue and redemption )
Earth poisoned
primitive reproduction
a thorns and thistles diet
all creatures large and small
introduced as prey to predators
(+) all those dark things inside you and around you, they are on loan
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and voices in the outer circle
ask why anyone would concern themselves
the simple answer
because we are living those punishments
we are experiencing rescue and redemption
we are the children of a loving God
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the voices in my head
only start making sense
as I’m falling asleep
the more profound they sound
the wiser they seem
the harder to remember
yet meanings linger
words lost in a dream
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the crows tell me
that it is darkness
that separates me
from my Holy One
———-
———-
a life of pain and torture
to bridge the gap
(+) risking Hell Eternal
———-
———-
by reading these words
you are participating
in my system
of denial
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Denial is the currency
of Placebo Town
it makes the cogs of industry
go round and around
the almighty Denial
it flows like electricity
from the top to the ground
the man rich in Denial
resplendent in his hollow crown
is in for a shock
when his fallow stock market
comes tumbling down
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coffin worms
excuse
minimize
rationalize
and if they had a finger
would point that finger
(+) the finger of blame (+)
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that fickle finger of blame
everybody seems to have one
a quantum conundrum
of inexplicable shame
how a singular finger☝️
all sticky with hypocrisy
can point in every possible direction
simultaneously and without refrain 🤔🕶️
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the scary thing
is that your thoughts get morphed
and you skip down the path of happy bunny
and a room full of people you leave behind
pay and pay, your nonnegotiable cost
————-
————-
in my youth
I danced
around
the fire
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having entered the flame
things fly away
gone as in a storm
never to be the same
the remainder transformed
from a lifeform that has died
some say reborn
others say purified
the survivor
a grateful follower
of a Saviour crucified
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where did you leave God ?
on the spice rack
on the bunny trail
after a lifetime of religious bingo
returning home empty handed
despondent and discouraged
————————————religious bingo
————————————literature written by claw
————————————“Awe of God”@Reader’s Digest
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vertical and horizontal conflict
Michael trapped under a cardboard box
that children use to capture birds
a prisoner
in a loving and worshipful community
a pony making circles as a carnival ride
(+) a weakling created for dependency
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the only therapy available to me
was to assume the foetal position
in a crumpled FedEx box
as my family took turns
turning on the hose 💦
and holding me down
fortunately for me
there was a hole 🕳️
where my heart 🖤
was meant to be
so I was never going to drown 🌊😎
in my cardboard swimming pool
but that never stopped them
from trying again
. . . and again
survival is an Olympic sport 🥇
in Placebo Town
where it is mandatory
to take a gun to school 🏫
if you wish to fit right in
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the seductive
pleasures of sin
a list
a mile long
sin lurking inside the heart
———-
———-
exterior Placebo
coated with evil
a collection of brokenness
in an old refrigerator box
Michaels complete
—–
—–
sin-scarred Placebo
eternity amnesia
proud
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my little Lolita
full of delicious sweetness
from her head to her toes
but as we were itching the scratch
she goes to get
a packet of cookies
(and I do hate crumbs in the bed)
then just as I’m pushing
that last inch
down to the bone
I catch her texting
and Tik Tokking
on her mobile phone
whilst munching a Nutter Butter
I don’t wish to complain
but a short time later
she’s talking to me
like I’m some customer
who drew her lucky number
I think perhaps
the thrill has gone
after a momentous ride
maybe it’s time to release her
back into the wild
(at least she now has
a profession to fall back on
being an insatiable Viking orphan)
both of us
a little older
and a little wiser
she managed a tearful smile
as I advised her to marry a rich man
who can keep her crumbed in style
and free to just play on her iPhone
all day long
… that’s my little Lolita
as I awoke from a dream
I screamed …
“What have I done?!”
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a fast food trotter
she was
nail polish
and all
her whiskered
twitch
her
rubbery lips
(after a lifetime of abuse)
you could have frolicked
on her anal parapet
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“Crowned in feathery down,
a manicured quim
premoistened and warm,
a pleasured treasure to be found.”
~ Vague Grunt
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talk of moral grime adhered to your hands
rumors ventilated in whispers
canoodling as if newlywed
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“Somewhere beyond right and wrong,
there’s a town named Placebo. I will
meet you there when the deal goes down.”
~ Vague Rant
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after yet another driving lesson
with little Lolita
(I no longer have a choice
as my lovely Linda likes me to be nice)
I was left scrubbing evidence
off the steering wheel
that caramel churro dipping sauce
courtesy of Guzman y Gomez
and even Taco Bell
has much to answer for
as my little Lolita
loves a spicy beef burrito
always an irresistible meal deal
for a hungry insatiable bandito
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————————————
————————————
Vague Rant: the only man never to be seen in short pants
————————————
————————————
The sin of each individual
quite apart
from the sin which is common to all
+(Adam and Eve with their tinder to kindle/their tinder to kindle sin)+
+(Jesus and the law of sin/Mary gave him more than a taste)+
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in constructing a reality
from positive and negative energy
let’s just call it Creation
there was apparently a design flaw
a minor imperfection
the human deviation
(an experiment in chaos?
the only possible explanation
for the homosapien mutation)
caught in a trick of the tail
the end result was indeed good
but not quite perfect
the devil was in the quantum detail
something to do with freewill
the need for law and order
and a gang of rebellious outlaws
led by the insidious El Diablo
riding for Eden’s border
but with righteousness on their side
how could Adam and Eve ever fail?
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Vague Rant: the only derelict prophet
to now be driving a Tesla (a gift from
Elon Musk) whilst touring as a celebrity
speaker on the Illuminati lecture circuit
and a revered houseguest of Placebo
Town’s rich and famous … often found
with his pants down👖⬇️
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