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 
unmoored from a sex life
your story on the evening news:
MAN WILLING TO FORGO GRATIFICATION TO AN HEROIC EXTENT
cheerleaders of sublimation minus underpants
offer bafflement in the face of a dark patch
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pOETRY wORKSHOP
ordinary language made unfamiliar
as in
what one might actually say
deformed words
silly ass shit
the poem breaks off
and starts again
deviations
from the “deviatory pool”
(+) we are nothing but our bodies
constant incest
LikeLike
my answer
to peace in the Middle East
TIMESHARE
treat the family
to a holy land luxury holiday
Gaza is now
the ideal place to invest
in a timeshare condominium
“Condo Martyrdom”
where both the faithful
and infidels are all welcome
to spend a week or two
with a view of the Mediterranean
Hamas is demanding first choice
plus the crucifixion of Taylor Swift
for Ramadan
everything is up for negotiation
LikeLike
I asked Jesus if he could spell “genocide”
child-god Jesus
left town
was I wrong
to question his pangs of conscience ?
LikeLike
I asked Jesus for his guilt-punishment formula
he showed me his math problems
color outlines of his hands
proud of his gold star
and butterfly wings
child-god Jesus
a busy boy
LikeLike
seeking my roots
I could only trace back
my family line
as far as Lamech
no sign of Enoch
or Methuselah
for that matter
not even Adam and Eve
in the Garden of Eden
get a genealogical mention
now I have but one
theological question
why was I baptized
Genocide Cain at the Church
of the Biggest Weapon
and who put a deposit
on a condo in Gaza
in my name?
LikeLike
Genocide Cain
the shadow alone
primary and secondary
who closes the windows
and locks the doors ?
who closes the eyes
of children at night ?
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the concept of punishment
chastisement for a greater purpose
to resume relations with heaven
game-show the origin
of these persecutions
LikeLike
I brought Jesus to the birthday party
mothers cried and children hid
the Holy Man
he tried to shit-stick me
(+) bringing love to a friend’s birthday party
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small circus after small circus
crime
clown thrown into the flames
unreality invades reality
backwoods justice
someone lifted my head
and whispered
“We’ll bury you at night”
who we truly are
the tone of Michael
who we truly are
the tone of Michael
LikeLike
(long thought dead)
I stare down
at the lack
of feet
thighs coated with passionate liaisons
rewriting sex——recasting romance
postcards of genitals
leaking adhesive
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the beast is back
a saint out on the street
once touched
by Christ himself
who would ever suspect
what secrets lie beneath
his deepest thoughts
and down his short pants
the beast is back
from a poisonous trance
after a season of darkness
sodomized by pestilence
and jerked off by death
firmly caressed
in the Reaper’s cold grasp
the beast is back
greedy as ever
devouring his dinner
Lolita and Guernica
with the Sphinx
and Mona Lisa
dancing to Roxy Music
and happy just to watch
a wellspring arising
from a towering crotch
hungry love
is the greatest feast
drugs are just a spice
now the beast is back
with a mighty release
from the lightest of touch
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destroy everything
destroy yourself
share a disease
meet the challenge of absurd extinction
spray painting isolation and loneliness
seed with no chance to sprout
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ever few days
someone attempts to inform me
that Lincoln wasn’t a real human
“Yes, I know.”
(+) educational sand (+)
sinkholes
have always been with us
and are everywhere still with us
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FYEO
time to go back to work
and forget about the pain
Tourism Australia has engaged
my advertising firm
Money 4 Nothing
to come up with a killer campaign
to get the tourists coming
Down Under again
my suggestion is to have
Taylor Swift assassinated
whilst she’s in town
best to have it done
on the steps
of the Sydney Opera House
by an assassin
who remains anonymous
after speeding off in a car
that explodes in a ball of flames
thus fueling a myriad
of conspiracy theories
(from Trump’s Proud Boys,
to the San Francisco 49ers)
and then build an enormous shrine
for all the Swifties to come
on a Bye Bye Tay Tay Pilgrimage
and pay big time their respect
“Australia … cheaper to visit
than a Taylor Swift concert ticket!”
(The customer did request a killer
advertising campaign idea, and at
Money 4 Nothing we like to deliver.)
LikeLike
the compulsion to shut out what cannot be shut out
Taylor Swift begging to sleep under my roof
in the most humanly available manner
Taylor and her guitar were welcome
I warned her that the pillows
could be a tad elite-gossipy
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Taylor Swift
lanky teen in the guise of a circus performer
lanky teen twenty years late
loving the Billy Goat lip
have another leaf
LikeLike
a Billy Goat
in a clown suit
shoulders padded
singing Viva Cunnilingus
giving helmet head
to a friendship bracelet
saying Welcome To My Anus
I predict a sticky tight end
to this idol worshipping circus
LikeLike
the backdoor
with its sensitized awareness
empathy-crazed white Americans
trying to wrap themselves around GENOCIDE
should we count ? should we set a fair minimum ?
(+) buckets of blood, oceans of pain and agony (+)
LikeLike
imagistic Taylor Swift
linked to Placebo
strum a guitar
pull back on a penis
as if it were a gear shift knob
Taylor reality flutters like a fig leaf
her marvelous opening coital-hungry
her marvelous opening leaking baby snot
LikeLike
all aboard
(except for Travis)
the Superfortress
Enola Gay
Tay Swift
reaching a climax
straddling Little Boy
primed
and ready for release
into Tay Tay’s
opened bomb bay
with a blast atomic
that tears a hole
in the fabric
of this existence
the beast
then overcome
with the taste of peace
like a radioactive clitoris ☢️
as he chews upon
the bones of Travis
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TALKING LATE AT NIGHT (talking late at night) TALKING LATE AT NIGHT
talking late at night with little Taylor Swift
Death, the real thing, unexpected in the way it sounds
a sure event in a swirling world of people and accomplishments
petrified parents, friends with spots and coughs
they apologize for their flickers
their lust for fame and fortune
ever so often
Taylor says, “I only got so many strings”
LikeLike
true fandom
wears no condom
idolatry is an all in thing
hard, wet, and tight
attention deficit syndrome
with it’s pants down
the celebrity status
of a twerking plump arse
as obscene as seen
on Entertainment Tonight
a swirling black hole
the stalker’s delight
LikeLike
annihilating
twisted love
television at its best
no irregular twerking
we pledge allegiance
meanwhile the wife
speaks of bankruptcy
a knife slashing event
LikeLike
Nick Cave begs me to ignore Taylor Swift
but somehow
his package just doesn’t look the same in that tight circus Spandex
sometimes I faint when Taylor removes her elastic vulva wrap
a thousand women and never that violent confrontation
her lips whisper, “Much will be required of you”
LikeLike
Never so much given
By the Maypole of Semen
And driven into the hole
Of a Fairy Queen
As she sings the smitten
Into a premature orgasm
All fairy dust blowing
Over a fluffy little kitten
Who works her pussy charm
Tinker Bell gone viral
The pagan fertility rite
of a teen tribal initiation
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METH
festive/ceremonious moments
aloft in a sort of ecstasy
I hold myself
Thank you,
Lord
LikeLike
the presence of ever-raging death
old people piled up on the curb
the green signal now red
grimmer lingo I’m afraid
“Your turkey is cooked”
LikeLike
quick-marched through life
scribbled
LikeLike
REWRITTEN HISTORY
I guess I got lucky
the second time around
my first time
on the matrimonial
merry-go-round
it was all about
rapid fire procreation
we eventually ended up
with a litter of hobbits
yet anything erotic
was strictly rationed
that’s no way to stoke
the passion
in a passionate man
so I secretly
had a vasectomy
and then
the fornication became
regular as clockwork
as nightly
she would attack me
like performing taxidermy
in a torn négligée
going berserk
for some ejaculant
from a pair of baubles
now hanging purely
for decoration
eventually
with no more babies
I told her the only explanation
must be premature menopause
but at least she’d got seven
luckily she believed me
but the whole situation
left me feeling like a jerk
till the day she announced
with much jubilation
she was expecting
yet another baby
I just smiled saying . . .
“Congratulate the FedEx man for me.”
as I’d spied him giving her
a priority delivery 🚚
LikeLike
for a tiny moment in time
the backyard frogs
experience
THE IMMANENCE OF PLEASURE
mouth-to-mouth like God and Adam
LikeLike
I’m a free ranger
in this fishbowl of existence
as I’ve felt the touch
of my loving Creator
and I well remember
the brilliance and intensity
through the howling of eternity
dealing with the Stranger
for some … sadly
it is all … just too much
LikeLike
yes, Placebo has a Museum of Placenta
for reasons unknown
short pants/ tube tops
refused admission, possibly harmed
LikeLike
warfare is the engine room
of the capitalist system
financial slavery keeps it running
in the silence of a stillbirth
some say that Placebo Town
is the placenta of the Universe
in comparison
to the late term abortion
known as living in suburbia
as a cog within the system
It’s all one and the same
I look at Gaza and the Ukraine
thinking perhaps 🤔🕶️
Placebo Town is a tumor
on the anus of the Universe?
LikeLike
refused admission
supper time at home
the proper dividing line no longer proper
the wife trying to riddle her way out of debt
LikeLike
I find it embarrassing
adults trying to bottle feed frozen embryos
———–0———–
childhood associations
of the sexual
with the excremental
the proximity
———–0———–
nighttime in Placebo
ceaseless motion
swarms
of objects
collective struggles
the sensual pleasure of suckling
expanded consciousness through oral sex
LikeLike
the wife with her 47 checkbooks
eyeballing my gold bars
constantly moisturizing
her sexual apparatus
perhaps,
it will purr
LikeLike
the wife
purring like a kitten
loves me to put it in
with a bit of naked passion
sometimes for her own
greedy gratification
sometimes
as a loving gesture
like giving a crumb
to a starving beggar
with never a rejection
of a hungry erection
I have no pride
when it comes to pleasure
and no reservations
when it comes to pleasuring
my voluptuous Linda
when that kitten
starts a purring 😻
I’m like a dog on heat 🐶
Linda will shower 🚿
from her head to her feet
for no other reason
than to be licked all over 👅
my sweet tasty treat 🍰
LikeLike
I did too much
understanding
rhythmic patterning
blind loving in the dark
thinking about Sylvia Plath
LikeLike
crazy lady, I just brushed my teeth
now you done made me lick your lower crisis
heavy on the gas pedal, abrupt changes of focus
one minute you’re a man with hair on your lip
the next you are fingering your opening
happy to have it sewn so tight
LikeLike
I’m sure that
my immune system
is much stronger 💪
having fulfilled 👅
many an opening 💟
(just a fact ✔️
not boasting ❌)
yet matrimonial bliss
is the place to savor
a loving taste 💕
and to let it linger
LikeLike
accumulated civilization
the library free
5 minutes on the shelf
perspectives
watertight underwear
a whole person
to reopen the poem
is to reopen the Michael
LikeLike
FYEO
my killer advertising campaign
for Tourism Australia
‘Taylor Snuffed’
is coming to fruition
Travis Kelce is now in the country
they’ve been offered $90,000 each
for a “ten minute photo shoot”
on the steps of the Sydney Opera House
being greedy people
there was no question they’d accept
I’m certain this project
will be a success
here at Money 4 Nothing
we aim to hit our target market
by entertaining the audience
LikeLike
(+) to reopen the poem is to reopen the Michael
the librarian lifted her skirt
boy scouts made aware
why Adam begged God
to be made a man
———–0———–
struggle with darkness
tell the clerk
you want a room
without a bed
that you need
the extra space
LikeLike
the wife
with her witch wand
her passionate need
for something elusive
CASH-MONEY
outside, the sound of unlucky antlers
caught in the branches of the money tree
LikeLike
(+) comment 2/21/24 at 9:22am is nervous
LikeLike
I’ll share some of my OxyContin® with it ✔️
Doctor Feelgood has been most generous
of late, so happy to help sedate a nervous
comment 😵💫🕶️
LikeLike
people often ask me
if my wife was just released from prison
if my wife killed those intruders or did she murder them
my wife has amazing polar bear teeth
a simple smile solves minor problems
———–0———–
my wife says that I take little pleasure in her
always taking pleasure in myself
“my feet don’t touch the ground”
LikeLike
LOST IN THE ART OF MASTURBATION
jacking off
light and dark
a food tray on the north
a poop hole to the south
an occasional look outside
years will drift by, but one day
muscular weakness will arrive
curl up in your lap
sap your drive
at that point
you retire
the man who discovered himself
the plaything of a powerful penis
LikeLike
FOUND IN THE HEART OF MEDITATION
mindfulness
finding true balance
with a powerful peace
and some heavy grace
after a tenacious fight
heavenly wisdom
overcoming obsession
physical decrease
spiritual increase
in the full spectrum
of refracted light
both shaded and bright
discovery of self
taken headlong
from the edge of wrong
to the very heart
of all things right
LikeLike
I told the librarian that I was an employee of my penis
she said nothing but she was questioning why I live in the basement
perhaps, she feared that I would mention domestic slavery
the curse of being bound to domestic ownership
somewhere, another nasty wound
waited to be serviced
LikeLike
the common man
blind to the peacocks from Hell
that nest and display outside Heaven
(+) your brain constructs reality
visual perceptions
may not match reality
physiques rolled in sugar
slick muscular bottlenecks
M. C. Escher sodomy
LikeLike
we few
we happy few
we band of brothers
some never
to walk again
amongst mortal men
whilst others
claiming to have seen
the face of God
now seem lost
in a never ending dream
lacking rhyme or reason
though touched
by the Holiest Ghost
I for one
did not see
the Almighty’s countenance
nor make his acquaintance
but I did have
a lovely vacation
at heaven’s expense
sojourning for a time
in God’s holiday house
hidden
in a secret location
just beyond
the Gates of Eden
LikeLike
finding oneself in a nest of masculine women
are they actually like other women ?
penetration fears
irritable love
not a single ordinary face
each haunted by uncertain pleasure
LikeLike
whilst recovering
from a fate
worse than death
I found myself
possessed of a longing
both irrepressible
and desperate
an unquenchable desire
for women of great
girth and breadth
complete with
a plus size opening
and boundless of breast
so far each one I’ve met
has been pleasantly grateful
for every lovin’ spoonful
I only hope I can keep it up
for when it comes
to sweet tasting fat
I have no regret
LikeLike
slap-happy men around the campfire
dirty words in a circle
temperaments
loincloth scent
flute playing in public
LikeLike
THE HEAD LIBRARIAN
GIVES GOOD LIP SERVICE
undresses the audience
with a squirting tongue
and a face covered
in robert frost
“Just like the dinosaur,
the Age of the Penis
has run it’s course.”
Contra-Evolutionaries
stalking the barely living
and the walking dead
at the library infirmary
victims recovering
from the books they’ve read
confirmation bias used
as proof that brain damage
is all in your head
where the Head Librarian
hears my confession . . .
“I seem to have a thing
for fat women.”
my contrite penance
a tumultuous spanking
of the scrotum
by an unbroken hymen
the Head Librarian’s
perfectly intact secret weapon
meanwhile outside
the peacocks are dancing
LikeLike
thoughts of becoming sexually active
mom and dad take you to the basement
nail your hand to a mast, right out of Moby Dick
a volume of reasons not to exchange body fluids
adolescence starts with both hands free
the art of forming a personal identity
a mighty psychosocial challenge
MASTURBATION: the true passage of time
sexual fluidity, the girls at the library
swim late into the night
LikeLike
senior citizens caught up in a puzzle game of memories
scrotum spanking/touching the unbroken hymen
the enemy of so many, DECEPTION
how to accurately detect it
at the Honeymoon Hotel
face-to-face confrontation
“third-degree” intercourse
LikeLike
there you are
trying to spend foreign money
no matter where you go, no one will touch it
perhaps, someone will scream, “Police, police arrest this man”
birth-imagery in a jail cell
the eyes open, the shadow alert
LikeLike
there you are
a suitcase full of foreign money
no matter how low, no one will touch it
(you dare not go to a bank)
your mother taken from the gutter
birth-imagery in a correctional facility
one hell of an annoyance
the mouth in open sight
LikeLike
year after year
gift giving holidays/birthdays
the same box often wildly wrapped
———–EMPTY———–
learning to live with defeat
promises with no future
gifts without core
LikeLike
just a work in progress
cut free of innocence
lost in transit
and delivered
to the wrong address
by ghosts now drifting
into a forgotten past
all along
the gift was the wrapping
like Taylor Swift
in a body suit
all wet from her sweating
the bigger the box
the greater the gift
continuing the process
(having come in a box)
a future dripping
with la vida sauce
over the jiggling of flesh
into the present tense
Mother Nature’s
generous surplus
all wet and warm
with a glorious entrance
drowning in the sugarcoating
of a fat woman’s vagina
is a hungry man
left breathless
without his pants
LikeLike
in the backwoods
people urinate in public
watching mother piss on
the boots of an attractive man
a yellow stream on leather from Paris
LikeLike
the wife said that she could hear the stereo a block away
makes me think that I’m living the good life
the guy boasted
that no better high could be had
TRANSCENDS ALL COMMONPLACE FAMILIARITY
“one can not deny the high, only to contain and re-direct it”
LikeLike
one cannot deny the sex
only to contain it
re-direct it
the difficulty of the task
the skill of the performer
nameless, faceless, hidden
what is it that pulls you away ?
——————————–something else is operating beneath the surface
——————————–the naked penis of loneliness
LikeLike
Adam was busy writing a dictionary
Eve was memorizing
penis after penis
each manhood
had a face
naked men
true loneliness
Eve made dialogue
LikeLike
haunted by unpoetic sounds
realistic grunts
of formless expression
the wife with her post-coital sadness
stripped-down
in the refrigerator light
her torso coated with seed
LikeLike
in the town of Placebo
there’s blood in the streets
it’s up to my ankles
Jim Morrison
now sleeps with the angels
at the sight of all that blood
he got himself another beer
and began to weep
there’s blood in the streets
it’s up to my knees
as Frankie Lee
and Judas Priest
got high as a kite
on a midnight creep
but the blood in the streets
was up to our thighs
Jim Morrison just sighed
got fat and soon died
too much beer and tears
will make your heart burst
the blood in the streets
it’s up to my chest
as poor Frankie Lee
a gambler now deceased
died of toxic shock
I told him not to drink
that blood in the streets
but I guess it was better
than dying of thirst
there’s a sea of blood
out in the streets
with monsters now swimming
where from the neck
Judas Priest is left swinging
as the undertaker’s drunk
and the shrouder’s gone missing
LikeLike
David Bowie
stripped-down
in the refrigerator light
“Look up here, I am in Heaven”
the only real person that ever loved him
sleeps under the bed, ungodly cold the touch
LikeLike
everything and everyone came from a miracle
imagine Adam being squeezed out whole
imagine Noah chuckling at adult birth
He who inflated into the Ark
He who swallowed a zoo
LikeLike
true love twice
swallowed by the Earth
my portion of happiness
between signifier and signified
speculative interpretation wreaks
LikeLike
recognition from mother and father
freedom from the grave
given new legs
yet
Black Eye awakes
with his uncontrollable gift
words that fail to match the order of things
LikeLike