There’s Something On Under That Shirt, I Swear.

A Swan Song for 2016

In all my years, you’ve been the worst; You drove through like some fucked-up hearse. Grabbed our heroes, made us cry But now we lay YOU down to die.

Bowie, Burns, Aherne and Cohen, Wilder, Prince, the list was growin’. Parfitt, Ali, Wood & Sachs, Cancer, drugs and heart attacks.

The sadness swelled, your hunger grew; You bit off more than you could chew! (Or so we thought, then watched you gorge Fisher, Reynolds, Gill and George!)

And humans weren’t your only bent, You sniped our famous furry friends: Harambe, Pan Pan, others too All wild and free (locked in a zoo).

Many more adorned your plate, Mothers’ pride and fathers late. As if this feast was not enough, You thought you’d play with other stuff…

Us Brits you gave a cliff to jump; America: a cunt called Trump. Divided nations, left and right And laundered Klan sheets, oh so white.

With UKIP, Klan and Britain First You let them grunt their very worst. A murdered MP for their cause, The racists knuckled out applause.

Brexit, president-elect; We tied those nooses round our necks. With fascist cheers and bigotry; We turned our backs on rising seas.

Addressing dopes, the dazed, the dumb; You sent The Mail, you shat The Sun. You told them lies and instilled fears Of immigrants with grotesque smears.

You know, my dear, you’ve done your best But here we stand, we’ll never rest! We’ll fight, resist and change things round Until this shit had been unwound.

And so, I’ll lift my bubbling glass And promise now, we’ll kick your arse Straight back to Hell, where you belong On New Year’s Eve, with drunken song!

Goodbye, you dick, please close the door, Just slink away to nevermore. And know we, filled with beer and wine, Will raise our cups to Auld Lang Syne!

P.S.

I meant to publish Saturday; Suspecting you’ll take more away. But, best I post while I exist; For fear you’ve got me on your list!

Life's Perception

After a breakup, you’re fortunate when you take a step back & realize how much you messed up & subsequently change your ways. You take another step back & immediately see that not only does your ex not face the realization of their wrongs, they choose not to. Imagine what they succumbed to: their conscious self-derogation, self-depreciation, or put simply, willful blindness. Imagine feeling not having changed, not having bettered or improved yourself for half a year; insurmountable is the feeling for choice is to blame. That’s called a sheer waste of life & time. Don’t be like that person. Don’t waste your life.

Source: Dj Roberts

Late night runs

(vía https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skh8cuSa9yA)

Elskavon, “Small Hands” from “Release” (2013)