hack and kill
a poem by punkie
Hack and Kill went up the hill
To see whom they might slaughter.
Just for kicks they fired their sticks
Amidst a bunch of squatters. Read More…
I’m really tired. We’re all really tired.
“We” being the vast majority of people worldwide who are fed up with the violence, torture and killing a small crazy percentage continues to wreak on innocent others using all kinds of weapons large and small.
It’s time it all stopped.
Enough is enough no matter what language you speak, or what God you worship, or not for that matter.
Here’s a little ditty for these festive times (sing to the tune of Deck the Halls): Read More…
a short poem
choke and smother
the right to seek and find Read More…
a nurse her re rhyme
the king is in the parlour,
pissed off at his sister
the queens are in the pantry
finding ways to twist her
like the princess and the pea
she is quite contrary
the brat, the bitch, the mean old witch,
the cursed mary mary
what can be done to stop her dead?
her blog is such a bother
she blurts and spurts until it hurts,
and denigrates her father Read More…
As an Aquarian, I often find myself on the leading edge of change.
I’m an early adopter. I see possibilities where others don’t; I have a never-ending stream of ideas. I sometimes find it hard to understand why others don’t see what to me is as plain as day. Read More…
What do Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and US NSA whistleblower Edward Snowdon have in common?
Something fundamentally world changing it would seem.
Justin Trudeau is the newly elected Prime Minister of Canada, sworn into office Wednesday, November 4, 2015.
Yep, fell over in middle of road in the midst of changing gears.
It may have been a derailer issue, or perhaps it was the fact that I couldn’t get my feet detached from the pedals quickly enough.
Anyway, I lay there for a bit to make sure I wasn’t dead.
Only slightly battered and bruised.
I was reminded of life. And was grateful to still be living it.
Got up. Dusted self off.
Checked for potential injuries. Found none of consequence.
Put the chain back on where it was supposed to be (learned that handy trick last year). Wiped eye with greasy fingers and smeared black crap all over face.
Got back on bike. Kept going. No other choice.
Equally worth remembering are: the delicious smell of lilacs, the rush of white water, crab apple trees in blossom, and a lone fly fisherman in the river.
P.S. it was a bike not a trike and I wasn’t naked, though I will be in the future and you can stay tune for that too 😛