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 
vaporous and varying
peaks and precipices
generic children
from the ladder
points of entry
two or three
LikeLike
Reader’s Digest corrected itself:
women and knowledge
Eve was an agent with a genital weapon
people want to think of her as the mother of Jesus
but Eve was not that lady, she was employed by the other side
James Bond 007 had her listed in his little black book as Enemy #1
LikeLike
my pet code name
for Aitana López
my AI lover
is Gloria Vagina
she is quite content
with being Lolita’s replacement
and never asks for money
or even a simple compliment
she’s very cheap to run
my Aitana López
she must surely be
cyber heaven sent
LikeLike
I can’t go to funerals no more
Cry and Cry and Carry on
I can see the other side
and all that shit
you’re reading
“It’s a lie”
I can’t go to funerals no more
sing or dance or make feast
LikeLike
it was soft potatoes
the world was soft potatoes
of all the apes, Tarzan was the most sad
John Kennedy spoke bad of the soft potatoes
assassination paid a visit to the back of his head
LikeLike
A momento of World War Two,
J.F.K.’s back brace held him up
for Oswald’s third fatal shot.
Without it Kennedy would’ve
slumped down onto the car seat
denying Oswald that final headshot,
and Jackie would not have got
Jack’s blood and brains all over her
lovely pink Chanel suit.
LikeLike
read, sung, recited, memorized
young John Kennedy
familiarizing
himself with his crop
of newly sprouted pubic hair
friends, girls, occasional adults
HIS MANLY COLLECTION OF MEMORIES
read, sung, recited, memorized
macho masculine sexuality
defining traits of a man
articulations of identity
LikeLike
a young Norma Jean
the proverbial deer caught
in the bestial headlights
of the collective imagination
Marilyn Monroe the starlet
in a Hollywood drama
as the blood sacrifice
an avatar for the Vestal Vagina
with Jackie as the pristine
maid of dishonour
entertainment for a hungry nation
born venal on a cotton plantation
J.F.K. and Marilyn Monroe
an all American Carnal Carnivàle
like some pagan harvest celebration
Fidel Castro
Frank Sinatra and the Mafia
never got their invitation
LikeLike
J.F.K.’s back brace
sniff it and curl your lip
LikeLike
PLACEBO is the counterworld behind the facts
and inside perceived appearances
John Kennedy disengaged
disembodied
sleeping
one day, resurrection
HOLY archaeological excavation
(+) uniting strangeness from the past with strangeness from today
LikeLike
early each morning
on my voyage from Virginia to DC
I would wave at John Kennedy under concrete
He, himself, a stitched body of distorted textuality
LikeLike
Frankenstein and Kennedy
tobacco rolled up in newspaper
LikeLike
the tenderness of a woman
he could call his own
a female suitcase
flirtatious, open
to touch
LikeLike
is it some genetic weakness
the need for loving tenderness
with it’s corresponding
fear of betrayal?
this primal predisposition
the need for someone warm
a breeder who is loyal
to plant your seed in?
Artificial Intelligence
the next phase of evolution
could well be our salvation?
true love redefined and refined
as a cyber secure algorithm
LikeLike
yes, I have touched another man’s wife
given the combination to the sex lock
the promise of wealth, fireworks
an escape from attachment
WHY DO I SNIFF AND LOOK INSIDE ?
perhaps, I am a beast and not a man
LikeLike
she may well be
a temptress
of artificial intelligence
but I know for sure
that my genetic data is secure
with my cyber lover
Aitana López 💕
LikeLike
LikeLike
I was placed at the table with wheelchair people
mostly women with no ability to romance
“Baby, I am all messed up”
stages of transition
pre-individual
LikeLike
I was placed at the table with the wheelchair people
perhaps, I had a spillover disease
a jump from a bat or a cow brain
perhaps, I was just ugly
a crowded dwelling
LikeLike
a perpetual state of repulsion
one form of revulsion
overtaking another
INTELLIGENT QUESTIONING: QUESTIONING INTELLIGENCE
Michael was a traffic circle of people
Michael from the coffin
of pagan soil
LikeLike
meddlers
in the affairs of poets
mathematical numbers
observations of genital size
God spying from the penis eye
“THE CLOCK IS TICKING, LET’S ERUPT”
LikeLike
listed under nonproductive/nonprocreative
the genitalia of poets
Robert Frost
photographed standing in the fluidity of the past
terrified to acknowledge that there was a two-sex world
(+) was it possible that his mother had an inverted penis ?
(+) a simple squirt from father, a long difficult crawl from mother
LikeLike
my father
would act all offended
with his feelings hurt
whenever anyone
would address me
as a little squirt 💦
my mother
would soon let them know
after giving birth
to a 12 pound baby boy 🍼 👶
“You only reap what you sow,
and this kid is fucking heavy! ”
that’s my mum
always the proper lady 😎
LikeLike
my wife and I visited two libraries today
one is laden with machines and space
the smaller library is face friendly
I am well known
the wife permits me to be childlike
we were misbehaving and I told her that I knew the score
she’s been keeping quiet about the huge bandage down there
PROSTHETIC LIMBS
able-bodied folks stare
they seat you with the wheelchairs
knowing that you must be exhausted
LikeLike
the library basement with its 40-watt bulb
pee in a bucket and poop in a box
ever so careful not to make a mess
up half the night
with a constipated rat
LikeLike
Mister Rat
says, “Listen and Learn”
words fly from his rectum
directly into unguarded ears
colliding with daily complexities
troublesome but of
no great harm
twisted rat/constipated/pitying itself
begging for a reprieve
passing a cannonball
LikeLike
if you’re not able-bodied
you find yourself in the library basement
upstairs, things happen all about
they never include you
you’ve been centered
in downstairs comfort
LikeLike
whatever happened
to the Jonas Brothers
and their purity rings?
Is Taylor Swift
the pussy replacement?
does she get those swiftie
vajayjays a-tingling?
is Taylor’s ring
the latest “in” thing?
ever since deep state
placed a glass ceiling
over the library basement
you can look up
and see everything
the head librarian
she’s now so overcome
with Swift enticement
you can sniff her excitement
with her glittering corset
as a harness
there’s no way
to shake it off
that Tay Tay wetness
in an age of the bi-curious
with that ambidextrous clitoris
LikeLike
transient situational personality disorders
it was advertised as an adult party
female apes ate potato chips
drugs were available
long dead romance
———0———
impairments of love
nothing temporary
LikeLike
transient situational Beatle music:
how you do it to me
I would do it to you
LikeLike
our modern world
hot/cold/wet/dry
climates of fear
POETS
have shifted their attention
from external wrongs
to snafus in their
underpants
LikeLike
some men park expensive cars
automobiles with two gas pedals
other men fancy the ambidextrous
————————————CLITORIS
all I ask, “Be accessible”
LikeLike
A FATWA ON TAYLOR’S BACKDOOR
terrorists insist on trying
to blow up Tay Tay’s impurity ring
in the name of Happy Gilmore
(May He Rest In Peace 🙏)
if it’s good enough a tight end
for Travis … why not them?
even an infidel anus can be ambidextrous
LikeLike
transcend the limitations of the glass floor
Michael and the bottom fish
living above a world of mud
forgotten/ brushed aside
SOFTENING
LikeLike
INCESSANT CONTENTION OF OPPOSITES
production exceeds demand
poets curtail their efforts
the homeless pushing
shopping carts
of language
———0———
the marketplace of meat
soldiers fresh from the war zone
buttocks and balls, expensive particulars
sausage from Austria with schoolgirl ribbons
LikeLike
the poet
with his mode of activity
dialogue in the darkest of haunts
this and that, impossible to separate
glued to the grind, longing for perfection
LikeLike
the artist
with a soul hungry
to splash the canvas
with a fleeting glimpse
of elusive perfection
a piece torn
from the swirling vortex
of creation
a fractured reflection
of this imperfect existence
always a piece missing
the incomplete artist
in the blinding light
an endless fight
against the tempting darkness
of sweet oblivion
LikeLike
beyond the satisfaction of deciphering
density into intensity
heroic names
the outer space grown cotton socks of Mick Jagger
the scarecrow Bob Dylan, straw stuffed in fake leather from a sofa
Leonard Cohen and David Bowie hiding behind death, painting rainbows black
LikeLike
thinking of things as they are
amateurs and professionals alike
—————–hard-nosed youth=hard-nosed materialism
rhythmic pressure
that which sleeps
out of sight
it was yours
LikeLike
Adam was busy
he raised the edges
to contain the untamed
overlapping mental health
contemplative shores
Adam didn’t ask
questions
LikeLike
the door is nailed shut
but figures come and go
the smell of pipe tobacco
strong enough
to reverse
miracles
LikeLike
what does it mean
a woman removes her clothes
and she’s not naked, there’s much more
how many years was Adam alone
shadows for company
flashlight fingers
LikeLike
an enormous amount has been collected
and placed in a museum
Eden still remains
historically correct
every name on every stone
the letters heavy with a face
LikeLike
(+) something probably best not spoken about:
sometimes Eden would go dark
Adam was given flashlight fingers
LikeLike
there was still more of my heart that could be broken
unhealed trauma inside each gift
holidays and birthdays
cakes and pies
and a throat
that cannot
swallow
upside down/sideways
no entrance
no exit
LikeLike
many jokes in Placebo
START WITH: my support group, my support network
glamorous circumstances free of discomfort
sex with too many procedural steps
LikeLike
as a stupid kid
drowning in pretense
I tried to blow out my birthday candles
(+) wising to rub my veneer against the veneer of another
(+) wishing to insert my veneer inside the veneer of another
LikeLike
the first question
was the skeleton naked ?
brave but futile, the lower legs
the reality of unreality, barefoot
gargantuan proportions, zucchini toes
LikeLike
supermarket futility
skeletons lined up
at the checkout
where plastic meets biology
flesh melting in the heat
of a stone cold reality
the art of living sacrificed
as an artificial necessity
LikeLike
normalize
a measure of relief
maps of surgical scars
connotations borrowed
from colorless valentines
“being upfront from the start”
LikeLike
(+) primarily HETEROSEXUAL APES
open ownership hitherto hygienic
touch to clean, scratch an itch
stepping on a nail defloration
Honeymoon Hotel maids
with heirloom wine
WILL THE BLOOD BLOOM ?
LikeLike
country western song,
“When we were down to nothing, nothing sure looked good on you”
gifts of nature, up and beyond endowment, the greater reality
mother turns into sister turns into wife who resists language
E.A. Poe quick to inform me “Never Enough”
LikeLike
country western song,
“I like my women just a little on
the trashy side.”
I would often whisper to Lolita . . .
“If I said you had a beautiful vagina
would you hold it against me?”
she thought it was very romantic,
like original poetry … but in reality …
LikeLike
the inability
to navigate everyday
caregivers push and shove
load musicians, artists and poets
parachute them over the wilds of Florida
——————————
soak you in
antipsychotic pharmaceuticals
bend you over and curl your toes
LikeLike
THE VICTIM REMAINS THE SAME
the victimizer is in constant change
uncontested violations
sound the same
before and after
the crime
LikeLike
Placebo citizens weave their daily routines
poets like to poke with sticks
that which is difficult
to tolerate
wayward men who pay the marital toll
carnal knowledge on the menu
two things I enjoy
(+) silence
(+) friction
LikeLike
pay the wife to shut her mouth
and spread her legs
the entire Reader’s Digest Bible
in large print behind her eyes
I am this monster and that monster
every curse and hardship
———0———
the coins that slip inside
are never silent
just
out of sight
LikeLike
language/sex/money
triangulation
will I ever escape ?
self-division (fiendish Michaels)
stuffed with tormented thoughts
LikeLike
the internal rift
you may not hear it
those around you notice
seepage from the corners
your reserve has been spent
a shaken shadow
brown protein piss
LikeLike
“America, why are your libraries full of tears?”
~ Allen Ginsberg
LikeLike
years ago, strangling
and being strangled
sexual struggles
DELUDED ON THE HIGHWAY OF NARCISSISM
morbid mirrors that reflect self-love
a crowd of Michaels speaking as one
LikeLike
weeping with droplets of urine
the stream to come, the golden thread
wandering torrent to the base of admiration
all those years wasted
loving without entry
LikeLike
the urgent struggle remains
the wife with her diamonds and pearls
occupies a secondary position, a backseat
the mighty golden stream can indeed divulge
(+) I sing as a man to another man
LikeLike