UPSIDE DOWN

Underneath the Bridge of Heartache the saintly take their shelter
In the dark tunnel of delusions white-face clowns aim to provoke
There’s a Best Ragweed Hotel made up of just cardboard
Where a ‘mutton dressed as lamb’ Madam comforts the broke

On the merry-go-round favoured by ‘bruise easily’ lovers
The pipe organ plays cacophonous rhapsodies
Steam powered wooden ponies all bobbing for cover
A found out priest weeps, head bowed, down on his knees

The slick politicians go visit the frozen lake there
They skate over thin ice and frosty white lies
They dress up for the occasion blindfolded
Untruths easier to sell in hopeless disguise

The enchantress evokes her charms naked
She says, “It keeps all my magic aglow”
Her incantations as ever spellbinding
When there’s a poisonous hex to bestow

A gaunt phoenix stays put in the ashes
Too sick and tired to rise up again
Samson shaves his head before a cracked mirror
Delilah speaks not, she prefers to abstain

In a nest of unholy smooth operators
Sex playthings replace human touch
All one and the same to the titular bishop
And to the eyeless who don’t care all that much

I’ll take you there if you let me
I’ll show you a world upside down
You can wear only your choker of gemstones
Perhaps, one day that blood red wedding gown

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21 thoughts on “UPSIDE DOWN

  1. Your words combined with Kevin Ayers mournful tones took me back to a 1970s dalliance with Mescaline. Thanks for the memories, old chap. 🙂
    Best wishes, Pete.

    1. Cheers, Pete. I have to admit Mescaline was always on my menu back in the day. Not touched it since the old king died…so to speak…and miss it still. Regards, Mike

  2. A provocative piece, definitely, and well done.

    Sounds like the war in Ukraine. A modern version of Dante’s Inferno… or at least poo-tin’s inferno.
    Of course – found out priests – abound.
    They don’t help. They prey.
    Now the Pope is coming to Canada to apologize for all the brutality the church inflicted on our aboriginal citizens.
    TOF… it seems the history of humanity is naught much more than an inferno.

    Anyway, my inhumanity is the stupid taxes. It’s like trying to glue together a well smashed ornament.
    Almost done!
    Once officially turned in, I shall begin Mayday!!!!

    1. Albeit one I wrote a while back, you’re correct young Resa. There’s more than a hint of day to day infernos…be they old, new or in-between. At the time I penned this one I was in one of my dark depressions…I find certain subdivisions of poetry only work if one is well and truly down in the dumps at time of writing. Anyway, then there’s the dubious crimes the Catholic church throughout history. I hope, upon his visit to your land, the Pope’s apology is of genuine regret…you’ll find Mayday has crossed swords with Catholicism as it happens. Thank goodness I nolonger have to deal with taxes. A loathsome task, for sure. My thanks for the read, and all the best, TOF

      1. Good point, young Resa. Sadly not a lottery win. We, Shirl and I, sold our PI business ages ago. We decided to retire early and no longer be self-employed. Since then I get told the taxes I owe rather than have to calculate the wretched things myself. Regards, TOF

  3. The continuation of a young Marines Odyssey allthe way up to when I got hauled off to jail and rescured – again by a kindly major, and sent off to war in the Mediterranean (with a reinforced battalion of Marines who have no ammunition – one of the few snuffies so to know that fact since all the available ammo for rifles and machine guns currently in the inventory had been shipped of to Vietnam during Tet 1968. The stumbles and the bumbles and the rose-smelling-contest ensues. Have sent you shekle on to WP and to FB.

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