The Used Lover Blues (2)

A Mediterranean Odysseum

I once had an epic lover

of Olympian splendour

Nightly she would come to me

as the lustful goddess, Aphrodite

Lost in her insatiable pleasure

I was driven completely crazy

Yet by the break of dawn

she would miraculously transform

into Athena, the born again virgin

… Zeus’s warlike daughter

with her divinity fully intact

in a vesuvian rage, and ready to attack

Her Bronze Age Wisdom

wielded as a deadly weapon

Was I just her Troy Boy to be used

and then abandoned come the morning?

A whispered warning
from Achille’s digital ghost …

“Not for the meek,
searching for that
mystical coast of which
the seers and oracles speak.
First you must
download and unleash
your inner classical Greek.
For Ulysses, fair Atlantis
is within your reach!”

Beyond being crippled
poor and weak
from the doing of hard time
down deep
in Pandora’s Labyrinth
where the thousand
to my left
and the ten thousand
to my right
all came to grief
in that place
without mercy or grace
where death
is a sweet release
Despite being hobbled
weak and poor
in the delight of spite
she tied me
to her kitchen chair
and then nailed it
to her bedroom floor
Let me tell ya
Zeus’s voracious daughter
she’s always wanting more!
There is no winning
not even a chance
of drawing even
when Eve
that angelical woman
is keeping score
For the fanatical extreme
is ever out of balance
with the heart of creation

Indiscretion – Obsession
within a delusion
of self justification
Dirty linen flapping
An ill wind blowing
as butter is melting
Dripping from the mouth
ever unforgiving
More the taking
More the talking
Less the giving
With a kiss
a tear and a sneer
It would seem
God only tells her
through the noise
of a bitter propeller
what she’s fully
expecting to hear?
Gazing dimly
into a mirror broken
Seeing only
a distorted reflection
Having the last word
Casting the first stone
when you’re all on your own
Like a self inflicted curse
Like pointing a broken bone

Ever aloof
the whole truth
still waiting to be born
You called it
a labour of love
I call it revenge porn
From way before the parting
love’s validation
forever missing
The violation
of a rose garden
never promised
yet by providence given
Did I fail
to beg her pardon
for the things
that never happened?

Only human
depleted and sore
yet just like wet cement
always ready to pour
A seeker of truth
just looking to score
A mere human being
being held for ransom
by a system of caste
Of who’s making?
Who makes the fateful choice?
Was the die first cast
from the Gates of Eden?
Was Man set up in a game
of Fitness for Survival
starring a cast of billions?!
Strategically placed
right next
to the tree that be
the Knowledge of Good and Evil
Having been plucked
and now left bereft
toiling for that company
of Principality Power & Cable
constructing them accursed
telephone towers of Babel

At the Hospice
near the Acropolis
the goddess Hestia
tends to the lepers
The head nurse
a voodoo doll
with the pins of past sins
tucked away in her purse
is praying for Prometheus
to deliver a burst
of his worst
Instant karma curse
just like Icarus
falls from a clear blue sky
directly above Mount Olympus
where the blazing sun
is just too intense
Yet every new day
the whisper of a taste
Leaving the question
a lingering … Why?
That breath of life
that leaves you seeking more
Is there the potential
essential to be cast up
loyal to the right-royal core?
Such as brave Ulysses
tied to the mast
over boiling seas
past the Sirens call
sailing Ithaca bound
to Penelope’s fair shore
Standing by her
throughout her disease
Her warm greeting …
“Ulysses, down on your knees,
your Odysseus has failed to please!”

True love
should rise above
and see the good
the wood for the trees
I was told that the meek
would inherit
God’s green earth
but you’ve been playing
Hide and Seek
behind heaven’s gates
since the day of my birth
through all the trauma
of an epic Greek drama
Yet you gave me water
and a seed of faith
Every new day
a fresh choice
between life and death

Yes …
once I had a lover
who done me wrong
Like a crime
against space and time
lingering too long
where one just don’t belong
No amount
of self-justification
can wash clean
that indelible stain
seen only in the sight
of her slighted recounting
Her words
lacking any grace
a crooked account
spoken to darken
my hiding place
and flush me out
as if delivering
a sermon from a mount
of unforgiveness
All the while
looking to the heavens
for some kind of a sign
In celestial style
a courageous sign
for these contagious times
had already been given
to a befuddled generation

Is it within
human potential
to be cast up
by a sovereign act of will?
Made from the dust
yet with more than a spark
of the truth substantial
A burning ember
of the substance spiritual
with more than double
the potential for trouble
à la femme fatale
like that pernicious daughter
of Mount Olympus
in the rush of a self righteous
push ‘n’ shove

Is a man’s glory
in the rising
not the falling?
As for me
I thank Christ
that He is good
… good at catching
As I’m no angel!
Just another Adam
on the eve of destruction

Because …
once I had a lover
she done me wrong
Like a deep breath
in outer space
a spray to the face
of her ever lovin’ mace
That bitter embrace
without mercy or grace
held me captive
all night long
In the corner
of a memory fading
and reflections
of a song long forgotten
playing still
even when the thrill
of living has all but gone
Was my cause ever lost
in a breath of frost
with her forever counting
the mounting cost?
For Heaven’s sake
(and not forgetting about
my good friend Hercules
. . . for a heathen’s sake!)
take a big step back
Away from those old
and cold coals
And please ditch
that king sized rake
It don’t make
for merry old souls
Did Lady Macbeth
leave behind
all human kindness
in pursuit
of her bloody goals?

“Screw your courage
to the sticking place
… when failure calls!”

Graciousness and mercy!
Is this a dagger
I see before me?
As Enyo decorates the walls
with the entrails
of soldiers fallen
at the Temple of Indiscretion
With Circe sniggering …
“Let that be a lesson!”
Does not augur well
for any poor fool
heading in that direction!
But be sure to bring
a blood offering for
the High Priestess’s invocation
“Direct Debit, Credit Card?
… Not a Problem!”

For some time prior
in a former life
an endless existence
of hot blooded war
fought in an age of cold crisis
feeling somewhat grunged
I staggered off out the door
Like Ulysses
upon a cool breeze
fleeing all alone
With Penelope
always phoning it home
Forty years wandering
a wilderness foreign
engaging with the enemy
pursued by Babylon’s army
The Temple of Athena
just too far away
somewhere across the sea
At the Oasis of Isis
I met Persephone
Hades’ bride to be
She gave me a taste
for toxic waste
saying she had been waiting
waiting just for me
With those friends
of fair weather
to make me feel better
I couldn’t perceive
what was closing in on me
in the sky with daimons
like falling stars
plunging into the open arms
of Zeus’s dilated daughter
as she turned my finest wine
into water
whilst seeking the magical fix
and mixin’ a Grecian blast
Now all in the neo-classical past

The best of times
yet the worst of crimes
following her star signs
With all creation revolving
around her fixed gaze
That slow dance
of a deep trance
flowing through
a night sky ablaze
My fellow travellers
and fair weather
soft shoe shufflers
… all trapped
in an endless maze
Subsistence …
Life of the spirit stolen
Held hostage In Styx’s clasp
Like a spell cast
in Medusa’s gaze
Caught in Nyx’s cold grasp
A black dog unleashed
by a pillar of salt
The words screeched …
“Let that be your lot!”
Telling me to
always be grateful
whilst tucked in the toga
of a Herculean saga
full of pathos and drama

From the Oracle at Delphi
came an encrypted text
… “Know thyself.”
and as she knew me well
… “Nothing in excess!”
Since Zeus’s daughter
left nothing on the shelf
I had little choice
Are all things
working together?
Running on the fumes
of one good decision
Repercussions rippling
in every direction
Only a burning desire
and the Grand Designer
holding me together
with mercy and grace
A whisper to say …
“Don’t stay lost
in Hades’ embrace.”

At midnight
without invitation
Prometheus pays Ulysses
a special visitation
upon Helios’s suggestion
From the heights
of Mount Olympus
(where Ferrero Rochers come from)
to deliver a timely
crumb of wisdom:

“Brave Ulysses, I’ve come
to shine an ever loving light
on your situation.
Fabled Atlantis
is not what you seek.
‘Atlantis’ was the Neolithic
European Minoan civilisation
of Crete, before a
catastrophic volcanic
eruption on the nearby
island of Santorini.
The ensuing Tsunami
assigned the Minoans
to history, or should
I say … mythology?
In conclusion,
to Achilles’ digital ghost,
do not harken.
He who was brought down
by a silly bung tendon
since failing to
put his shoes on
before doing the Trojan!
Pay him no attention.
He was always a bit
of a myrmidon cretan.
And when it come
to the fair maidens,
Achilles was a bit of heel.
True paradise is grander
than you feeble mortals
could ever imagine
far beyond anything even
us Titans dare to mention.”

Warming up
at that hot night spot
‘The Butter Churn’
the headline act
Cream in a Greek Urn
(the original Jug Band)
starring Eric the Titan
on eclectic sitar
without amplification,
is belting out a storm
bringing the Persian army
to their knees
as they perform
‘Tales of Naive Ulysses’
(the unplugged version)

Meanwhile in the harbour
King Xerxes’ ships
at anchor burn
Demanding an encore
drowning sailors
chanting …
Those crazy Persians
always wanting more
The resulting
carbon footprint
wider than a mile
lingered for years
like the beckoning smile
of a water nymph
behind a veil of tears

Yes . . .
once I had a lover
She done me wrong
In those low lands
where even Zeus himself
could use a little
help from his friends
to try and get over
them used lover blues
Yet only a black dog
dared to walk a mile
in my open toed shoes
As the tough get rough
the weak best get strong
I see the sleek
just coasting along
I’m told that the meek
to the Good Shepherd belong
The arrogance of youth
in an endless search for truth
upon the anvil of Chaos
seeking the living proof
Looking to the Cross
The awakening
Making that angelic choice
Yet with the experience
of fully blown consequence
The Quality Redeeming
A portrait in the painting

Earthbound eyes
cast down to the ground
never seeing
above the spin
of particles spiralling within
a galaxy ever expanding
beyond the dreams and visions
of Zeus’s rampageous daughter

( . . . to be continued 😎)

~ by David B Redpath © 2018-2022

“Life is too short for the
indulgence of animosity.”

~ Sir Walter Scott

Title Art; ‘The Stoned Medusa’
by David B. Redpath © 2022


‘Ulysses and the Sirens’
~ by J.W.Whitehouse

David B. Redpath © 2017-22

63 thoughts on “The Used Lover Blues (2)”

  1. This was amazing! I want to read it again, out loud. I probably only got a fraction of the allusions but I loved it anyway. Your words are like bright jewels, tumbling, stunning, with a rhythm and beat. So I want to examine this more for sure. Being tied to a kitchen chair seems to be a rite of passage for some of our most beloved bards. To be continued? Hooray! ♥.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. You’ve caught me out, Niki.
      I am guilty of pinching that
      particular chair from the kitchen
      of none other than the Bard of the
      Boudoir, Leonard Cohen 😎
      Thank you for the encouragement
      flowing. It is greatly appreciated 🙏

      Liked by 2 people

    1. I’m usually not one to kiss 💋
      and tell … but what the hell🔥
      When you’ve been dragged
      through Hades, like walking
      a tightrope in a pair of broken
      stilettos, anything goes 😎
      Thanks for the heavenly
      comments 🙏 😇

      Liked by 2 people

    1. The tyranny of distance
      and the time difference . . .
      even, at times, the weather
      yet in my heart there is ever
      a place for a very special
      Yellow Rose of Texas
      I do wish for you that life
      keeps getting much better 💛🙏

      Liked by 1 person

  2. It was great to see a new post from you come across my email today, David! I hope your and your family have been keeping well.
    I loved the “Troy Boy” bit, a perfect phrasing for the modern consumer of Greek myth. I also love the first image

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanking you in a neo-classical
      fashion, Liz 🙏
      Yes, I guess I’ve been played with
      like a Trojan rocking horse 🎠
      The title image was a bit of an
      experiment, as my big screen is
      down, and I still haven’t a clue
      what it looks like enlarged, so
      thanks for your thumbs up 👍
      The entire family is doing well,
      despite several skirmishes with
      the dreaded virus. It’s Summer
      here down under so we’re all
      getting burnt to a crisp ☀️
      Thanks for asking. I trust that you,
      and yours, and slowly defrosting 😎

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Yes, the image looks fantastic enlarged. I’m glad to hear your family is doing well despite getting hit with the dreaded virus. I have extended family in New York who got hit with
        break-through infections over Christmas. My husband and I have avoided it thus far, as for all intents and purposes we are now recluses. We’re still in a deep-freeze, which is typical for us this time of year.

        Liked by 2 people

      2. Yes, I get the U.S. updates each night
        from David Muir “timing it all out”
        on the ABC World News Tonight 🌎
        Glad to hear you’re isolating till that
        Covidian blight is out of sight 👀

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you very much, Chris.
      Yes, without the High Priest
      of Pathos, the Poet Laureate
      of Lost Causes, Leonard Cohen,
      where would we all be? 🤔 🕶️
      Probably down the road not
      taken, if I’m not mistaken 😎

      Liked by 1 person

  3. an epic tour de force: so many startling images: the most searing one for me is the head nurse as voodoo doll , ‘with the pins of past sins tucked away in her purse’; ouch ! replete with references, I honour your febrile mind, David —

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Greatly appreciated John 🙏
      You say Febrile … some would
      say Infantile 🤔🕶️
      I’m sure the head nurse verse is
      inspired by Nurse Ratched from
      ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’.
      I did check the meaning of ‘illiad’,
      with all it’s connotations of
      salt-water, warfare, and much
      drawn-out suffering (but I do
      apologise for that searing you
      received, John 😎), so I’m afraid
      the story must keep sailing on,
      with the addition of some Grecian
      ingredients, as I try to replicate
      an epic Homeric poem ⛵

      Definition of Iliad:
      1a : a series of miseries or
      disastrous events. b : a series
      of exploits regarded as suitable
      for an epic. 2 : a long narrative
      especially : an epic in the Homeric tradition.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. an occasional searing never does anyone much harm; you have an epic journey ahead of you, David, a bit like Lord Nelson with his naval battles; we hope you come through unscathed 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  4. Beautifully penned! Words steeped in Greek Mythology and Classics, I must admit I did google few allusions and allegorical meanings. This poem is truly epic. Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Beautifully penned! Words steeped in Greek Mythology and Classics, here I must admit that I did google few allegorical meanings and terms. It surely is a work of epic proportions, thanks for sharing. This is brilliant!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Wow, you blew me away with this David. Each piece could stand on its own and yet you gave us more. Great writing and a lesson in mythology. Nicely done. Big hugs to you and your sweetheart 🤗❤️🦋🥰

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Very much appreciated, Joni 🙏💛
      Thanks for listening to the siren’s
      song (they do tend to go on and on)
      whilst tied to the mast of my poem.
      Linda does tend to wonder 🤔 where
      I’ve gone when I go sojourning off ⛵
      to some ancient land 😎

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I am just in awe that you can write that much, that beautifully at one time. Hats off to you I don’t think I could ever do that. I have to be in the zone and I can’t get interrupted or my thoughts go right out the window. ❤️❤️

        Liked by 1 person

  7. OH MY GOD. YOU ARE EPIC. Astounding. I was back on the David train blazing through the night!!! You thunder…’s a journey. My head is still joyfully spinning. Wow. And I love Your Medusa. AND….”to be continued” gifted a great laugh and happy expectation! Cheers, Thank You and ROCK ON, Good Sir!!! 🤗❤️😊

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Pleased to hear, Karima.
      It’s most gratifying to read
      your kind comment 🙏
      I’ve been working, or should I say
      playing 🤔 with part 3 today, so it
      should be up this week (I’m doing my
      best to keep it short & sweet 😎).

      Liked by 1 person

  8. A sound of Greek culture as echoing.most beautifully written ,dear Redpath.I feel by reading your poem that I am wandering in the Glorious Greek Ruins.marvellous,my dear!!👍💖👍

    Liked by 1 person

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