Profiteering
from a global pandemic
Mr. Reciprocal Philanthropic
the effluent magnate
of a fire ring climate
and all things plastic
that float upon the sea
… to whom do you compare?
There’s a hungry black hole
31 million light years away
in the centrifugal centre
of the Whirlpool Galaxy
Matter and energy
being recycled
to who knows where?
As the quantum leaps
the physics of mechanics
masters of the known universe
praying to manifestations
of the Perpetual Parallelogram
whilst paying their taxes
to Never Never Land
Like sunshine
on the shoulder
of Mr. Mandala
That black tie dysfunction
an old fossil fuelling
the eve of destruction
whilst misfiring on all cylinders
across energy’s dark ocean
Entrails of toxic compost
from a carbon based lifeform
scouring the cosmos
for the lingering cinders
of a big bang smoke ring
All creation unfolding
The pleasure of her planets
beyond all measure
tasting the royal blue
starlight of Rigel
Antares … Mu Cephei
and Canis Majoris
An explosion
of symphonic sampling
The pollen from heaven
… sublime recreation
Treasures of a manifold
universe flowering
within a vortex swirling
The Great Spirit seeding
with divine inspiration
All creation declaring
“The Starry Host …
but a breath of his mouth”
Stars forming
and not a one missing
Led forth and called by name
The All in All
all too Majestic
The fact of all matter
flowing and forming
with vibrations ecstatic
The sacred expression
of all creation
… the Word spoken
throughout space and time
in the manner
of intelligent design
Beyond all human understanding
and the limitations of religion
Tripping the light years
fantastic
Singing the heavenly body
electric
and magnetic
Calling you too … by name
Can you see through
the haze of worldly static
a galaxy ablaze?
The stars are aflame!
Can’t you see
through tears of rage
the all too tragic?
North and South now ringing
with the echo of a holocene
upon this shallow age
of porcine consumption
East and west
the Earth’s biosphere
threadbare
and getting thin
Like breathing in
the Martian air
submerged and purged
in the gravity
of industrialised despair
This Lincoln County Road
birthed in cannibalism
The headhunters of globalism
not by half measure
all conquering
Only extremeophiles
soon to be surviving
Stand aside all you zombies
Make way for
the children of Armageddon
The Ring of Fire
Philanthropist
with all top scientists
embedded in his payroll
by the lure of the money
he begged, borrowed, and stole
But they’ll never cure
his crooked old soul
That overseer
of a Wall Street fiddle
the Big Bad Diddle
on a downhill rock’n’roll
Bitcoin … just
a mathematical riddle
from the Grand Parallelogram
Just another financial scam
In the mad scramble
to take a seat
at the Master’s table
do you really wish
to take that gamble?
Deep in the crypt
of cryptocurrency
a curse is brewing
for the false idols
of globalised prosperity
Forces that grapple
within the Grand Apple
of an all seeing eye
at the Shock Exchange
of Do & Die
Where even a virus
is good for business
for he who dictates
your life exchange rates
That Sultan of Swindle
a wolf wearing
sheep skinned underwear
who patiently waits
to make a profit
from your despair
as greed goes Uber
“Why not today?”
I hear you say
The fat cat too full
to run off with
an ever lovin’ spoonful
The holy cow too busy
making hay
with your social media
harvested information
A black mirror algorithm
calling the tune
to some little dog
who’s had a dishful
Like being forked
by a goose
and knifed
by some mother
Then dished up for supper
But hey … Mr. Diddle
doesn’t every dog
have his day?
Like Amazon
Facebook
and Google
Too much too soon?
Since personal freedom
ran away with the spoon
That Whirlpool Galaxy
block hole keeps on feeding
just 31 million light years away
and all those
Fire Ring shareholders
are over the Moon
~ David B. Redpath © 2018-2020
“For the love of money is a root
of all kinds of evil. Some people,
eager for money, have wandered
from the faith and pierced
themselves with many griefs.”
~ Paul, the Apostle
Artwork:
Sunshine on the shoulder
of Mister Mandala
(acrylic on canvas)
by David B. Redpath © 2018-2020
Amazing.I absolutely love it❤️
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Thanks Ortensia.
An earlier posting that I was playing
around with last night. Hope you
weren’t getting E- Pinged as I mucked
about with it?
I’m a complete technophobe, so I have
no idea what I’m doing on a keybroad.
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That’s what made it amazing😉😎have a good day David😀
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Odd but truly “incredible” 🙂 I love 💕 it!
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Thank you, Ray.
An attempt at a Universal
nursery rhyme of crime.
I know you
“think like a Universe”.
Much better than sinking
into a Black Hole!
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Much better no doubt! Creative answer 🕺💙
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This is brilliant David!
The unsolvable conundrum of cryptocurrency further tied in knots by the fat cats and holy cows!
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Thank you very much, Punam.
The creed of excessive greed
is now globalised, and off
the lead.
Borderless, lawless, with no
governance to heed.
There is a reckoning a-coming
for all of Wall Streets misdeeds.
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High time, indeed David!
You are welcome.
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You art work is most interesting!
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Thank you, Dwight.
It usually starts as a vision,
sometimes a dream, and
then some experimentation.
(I noticed the door of
Serafino’s store is in
need of some painting)
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Yes it did and more! Keep up the good work.
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A thought-provoking piece, to say the least. I love your artwork the most. What is inside the item above the shoulder of Mister Mandala, one might wonder. The lines you wrote could be an answer… of a thousand answers.
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Perhaps a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma?
But there are always rays of
sunshine to be found, Annie.
Just like your poems.
Thanks for being provoked.
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Yes, perhaps all of the above, David. You’re most welcome—your poems always get me thinking. Always something in every line. And, how kind of you to say that about my poems; I am humbled, thank you.
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This is very clever David! A great read :O)
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Thanks Lisa …
I do try to swing the cleaver.
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Dark and all too true.
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Dark is the fashion . . .
and brooding is my passion.
Thanks Anna, for dropping in.
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Have a Happy Thanksgiving, David!
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Thanks Anna… You too.
Being an Aussie, I give thanks
everyday that we have some
gun control.
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We’re gonna start buying stars soon. I wonder how we’ll name them.
You’re always though-provoking, David. Divinely inspirational.
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Coca-Cola Super Nova!?
Thank you astronomically, Bojana.
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I hear Coca-Cola’s releasing new drinks aimed at Generation Z, who’ll be nodding its head in approval while reading about the stars which existed once.
I think stars are getting depressed. They’ll start exploding any time now. We can’t take it. How can they?
Thank YOU.
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“The Darkness is coming!”
~ Doctor Who
“The darkness has come and
gone.” ~ Doctor Pepper
New stars are being born this
very millennium. With new
elements for the scientists at
the Coca-Cola conglomeration
to experiment on.
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Sale old, same old.
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This just awesome David✨
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Thank you, Jay Gee.
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And you came up with a cool Nick name thanks again lol
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My pleasure 😁
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An absolutely brilliant post, David.
Poetically summing up the nonsense flowing from Trump, the scientists at CERN as well as the Execs at Google and Amazon and all the firms currently dealing in cryptocurrency as well as various stock market manipulations and investment swindles.
And as the nonsense flows back and forth- the only one true constant- In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God and without Him was not anything made that was made- as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.
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Thank you very much, Chris.
Through the swirling nonsense
being collided as if guided
by the hand of Global Crisis,
there is a peace and calm to
be found in the person of Jesus.
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A truly thought provoking, head shaking, heart thumping piece my friend. Mama said there’d be days like this.
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Thank you, Walt.
And of course, as always
your mama was right.
And how could the Shirelles
ever be wrong?
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You are very welcome David, and thank you for all the musical memories tucked away in your posts.
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Definitely one to read again and again. So much to gain, and I’m a curious one. Thanks for sharing!
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Thank you repeatedly, Celaine,
for much multiple reading.
My percolator was overflowing,
when I wrote this one
… with no cup to be found.
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This whole poem felt very experimental & stream-of-consciousness. Genius!
Your art is Dada and very incredible palette of colors. 🙂
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Thank you very much, Charlie.
Yes, when it comes to my Dada issue,
Max Ernst did his worst, saying
“When an artist finds himself, he is lost”.
So I bought another box of tissues
for, “Art has nothing to do with taste.”
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You are welcome. 🙂
Here’s something to keep the rhyme flowing.
When the sky runs out of tissues
the worst we can say is nothing,
although, dissecting stars with frost
this may well be a karma good something.
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Exploding nebula plasma from Galaxy Banana
nirvana splits the atomic Mardi Gras 🙃
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Well, everything i wanted to say about this post has already been said.
But i’ll say it anyway, this piece is simply amazing. well done David
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Thank you very much, Lazarus.
Greatly appreciated 🙏
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I am blown away with this piece. Very well done!!
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Thank you very much, Pallavi 🙏
Or is it just Mum who calls you Betu😎
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haha..thank you for spending some time on my blog. Sincerely flattered.
You can call me either :)..Mum to two babies who inspire much of my writing and Betu (child) to a mother, to whom I owe everything I know about anything. :))
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A good friend of mine came from
the Gujarat region. I particularly
wanted to visit there last time I
was in India, but a travelling
companion arranged the route
we took. Perhaps next time 😎
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Stuffed with greed we are. No matter how much money we earn, we always want more. This black hole hope does not grows bigger. A wonderful poem almost covering everything important. Marvellous Work.
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Thank you, Kritika 🙏
Your positive feedback is very
much appreciated. As I, mostly,
have no idea of what I’m doing 😎
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The epitome of brilliance,
The ultimate perfection.
Galaxies are far and wide,
When will you start naming them, David?
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So many, Scott!
Where to begin?
Thanks for space walking
the Goldilocks Zone,
and your gracious commenting 🙏
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Which one is your favorite I wonder,
The one which you travel to in your dreams?
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We may one day have to move.
To a moon of Saturn, such as Titan.
We sure as hell can’t go back to Mars
as the atmosphere is too thin 😨
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Sure, but let’s leave it to the scientists to find out.
Titan seems exotic, too far away though.
Mars is way too common.
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Titan is predicted to be perfect for
human habitation in about two
hundred million years. About the
time the Sun, slowly expanding, has
started to fry the earth. Meanwhile
Titan is warming up, with all the
frozen oxygen being released into
the atmosphere, and the oceans of
liquid methane evaporated, to be
replaced by the H2O that is there
in abundance, but currently frozen.
Plus, there are too many spiders
on Mars 🕸️🕷️
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Ha!
Then how many births will we have to wait,
Until we shall be born on another planet?
That is then hot like the earth,
But another billion years,
And we shall be moving somewhere else.
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That reminds me of a song, Scott;
In the year 2525, if man is still alive
If woman can survive, they may find
In the year 3535
Ain’t gonna need to tell the truth,
tell no lie
Everything you think, do and say
Is in the pill you took today
In the year 4545
You ain’t gonna need your teeth, won’t need your eyes
You won’t find a thing to chew
Nobody’s gonna look at you
In the year 5555
Your arms hangin’ limp at your
sides
Your legs got nothin’ to do
Some machine’s doin’ that for you
In the year 6565
You won’t need no husband,
won’t need no wife
You’ll pick your son, pick your
daughter too
From the bottom of a long glass tube
~In The Year 2525
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I am definitely having a listen of it as soon as I get home. I very interesting possibility though.
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A brilliant poem, David.
I had forgotten you had posted it before.
But then I noticed I had liked it before.
Because that line in there about the philanthropist who had top scientists embedded in his payroll from money he begged, borrowed and stole, I immediately thought of Jeffrey Epstein and thought you were referring to him.
But maybe you were being prophetically inspired about what Epstein was up to.
Because when I read the line, I immediately thought about Stephen Hawking and other scientists he had invited to his New York mansion as he was busy thinking about seeding a master race with his DNA among the young Lolitas on his Zorro Ranch in New Mexico.
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The grand schemes of mice
and men, all come to nought
as they come crashing down,
like the Tower of Babel.
I’ve noticed that virtually all the
World’s richest men, not only make
big donations to medical research,
but often have their own well
funded research facilities, staffed
by leading scientists, invariably
working on defeating disease and
the aging process. All tax deductible
of course.
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An example of Vampirella Magazine from Warren Publishing being prophetic.
I remember the first Vampirella I ever bought (which I bought for the story line and not the pictures – similar to the claim I made when Playboy magazines were found under my bed and I told my parents I had bought them for the articles) was Vampirella #12.
The plot was a dying wealthy man named W.W. Wade had caught and imprisoned Vampirella and asked her to make him a vampire so he could avoid dying and going to Hell.
She refused.
Wade died.
And he went to Hell.
No doubt all these rich men who are funding anti-aging and anti-disease research (to say nothing of all these Transhumanists who are hoping to upload their consciousness into a computer or robot or cyborg) are doing it for the same reason as W.W. Wade in Vampirella Issue #12.
They’re hoping to avoid dying and going to Hell.
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Thankfully, there is always an
alternative. Even for the rich … 🤔
At least Bruce Wayne put his money
to good practical use, as Batman 🦇
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In fact, Chris,
you’ve just reminded me
of that arch nemesis of the
greedy capitalist ;
Che Guevara … my brother
from another Argentina mother
he’ll one day rise with the Son
will he recieve grace
for all that vendetta killing?
All to the tune of ..
Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina 🎶
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As Pope Francis plays with the Little Drummer Boy on his organ…
I mean… plays The Little Drummer Boy on his organ…
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That would be an appalling Pell Mell.
More toxic than smoking a Pall Mall.
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loving the phraseology, particularly ‘ effluent magnate’ and
‘The black tie-dyed dysfunction
misfiring on all cylinders
across energy dark oceans …’
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I don’t really know where this one
came from, Antonia? But no one
else took responsibility, so I had
to put my name on it 🤔
Very glad you liked it 🙏
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Omg!!so much incredible.gorgeous.i am so much impressed from your wonderful poem.🌹
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Thank you very much, Aruna.
Greatly appreciated 🙏 ❤️
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You are most welcome🙏🙏
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Great!!!
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Thank you, Luisa 🙏
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Wow! You are so talented!
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Tamara, you’ve got me blushing.
I just listen in the stillness
as the tempest whispers
and the debris starts rustling 😎
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Such a poetic comment! You are creative all the way around! ♥️
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🙏 😌 💛
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“Make way for the children of Armageddon.” That is certainly the direction we are heading.
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Birth pangs are
certainly a-happenin’
It can be frightenin’
It can be excitin’
But that slow train
is surely a-comin’
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Amen!
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Such a lovely piece..! It looks so adorable..!😊🌼
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Thanks Ashita 🙏for taking time to
read my nursery rhyme of crime 😎
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It was a great pleasure reading 🙂
💙💙
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You’re an artist and a comic voice in this void
Effing LOVE this
💖💖💖💖
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Thank you cosmically, Fiery 💜 ♾️
The bigger the picture, the greater
the need for some divine comedy.
Or else, who knows? With paradise
lost, it could be all Dante’s Inferno?
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Paradise can never be lost 💋
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Your words are incredibly powerful David. And your art work is fascinating. Truly unique
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Thanking you immensely,
Miriam 🙏 😎
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You’re very welcome David.
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What an intense poem! Thank you for making it.
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Moonshine 🌕 and dystopia ☣️
My maelstromic pleasure 🙏 😎
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