Caligraphy kaleidoscope
Searching for a Calliope
Language turning
Constant colours reeling,
Burrowing down deep within
To see what kind of state I’m in
Heart still yearning
Wondering what I’m feeling,
Fly close to my inner flame
Put fingers on what I can’t name
Fires burning
Layers I am peeling,
Try to make some kind of sense
Some logic or some recompense
Always learning
Little truths I’m stealing.
Author Archives: blitzken
Bargument
Ever had a bargument?
Sure you have, you know it!
A few drinks at the local pub
and your logic starts to show it
taking stands you never would
if you were clean and sober
but suddenly it’s clear to see
the chip there on your shoulder
you think you’ve a point to make
so you’re damned well gonna make it
then you see there’s a pint to take
though you really shouldn’t take it
you dig your heels in and
as the night goes on just more so
the silver lining being
you’ll not remember it tomorrow.
VANCOUVER!
Vancouver! Hang your head in shame!
I’m Canuckian but I know,
It’s just a bloody game!
There are many other things,
Worth protesting in the street,
But not because your home team,
Went down to defeat,
You win some and you lose some,
Advice ya’ll might want to save,
Now you’ve set Lord Stanley,
Spinning in his grave,
Your team lost in honour,
Despite the season’s works,
And you go and repay them by
Being pathetic jerks.
Rip the lid off…..
I don’t know if I should even be writing this really. I just don’t know what else to do, and I don’t think I can sleep at the moment.
I don’t have the right to cry really, and yet I do. He’s a friend of a friend, from San Francisco. I’ve never met him. Don’t know him. Don’t have any connection. But my friend knows/knew him well.
24 years old. A young, beautiful gay man. Filled with joy de vivre, a true lust for life, perhaps to the point of naiveté about his own safety. Mexican born, he liked to dress up in drag and go out. Not the flamboyant over-the-top kind of drag queen, but just transsexually; to dress up so he looked like a young Mexican girl. He would go out and have fun, mostly at a local club, where he was known for being fun and flirtacious.
He has been missing now for 2 days. The FBI have come by to talk to the family. They have recovered a burned body found in a garbage bag. The body fits his description, but they have to do dna tests because of its state to identify it.
The family is religious, and hopeful, but it doesn’t look good.
Despite my distance from the situation, it rips my fucking soul out. Absolutely crushing. I want to cry, and scream, and wail things like what is wrong with this world, but that’s not enough. Maybe they will catch who did this. Maybe they will even go to prison. However that won’t change the fact that a large percentage of the people in power, in the very system that might actually put the perpetrators in prison, right down the line to your average Joe, from top to bottom in society, will still either not give a shit at all because of this persons gender, appearance, and sexual preference. Some will even laugh and joke privately with each other, saying things like one less queer, or he got what he deserved, etc, etc.
To say it infuriates me is a massive understatement. The people who do these things walk among us. Live among us. Ride the bus with us. Okay, put them in prison, but don’t let it stop there. Post their pictures, and their whole life stories publicly. Let people know who they are, where they come from, where they worked. Spread the information in everyway possible about what kind of people do this. Show that they are not just freaks and outsiders and good ole boy rednecks. They are connected to segments in society and that should be shown, and magnified, put under the goddamned microscope and examined. Go further than that. Where are the massive public education programs that emphasize the right to be different, and show the cowardice that the fear of that difference is based on? Where is the public outcry?
This is a hatecrime, a pure and simple bald-faced disgusting hate crime. Every such crime should be thrust into the light. No secrets. When people murder because they are just afraid of anyone who is different, society needs to react with its full force. But it does not. Not by a long shot.
We need to rip the lid off.
It’s A Good Life
It’s a good life,
Cuz I said it is,
And it’ll be the way I see it,
Anything I want to be,
I’m gonna damn well be it,
No time to waste on people who
are whining in frustration,
Too blind to know the seeds they sow,
affect their situation,
It’s a good life,
Cuz I see it.
It’s a good life,
Cuz I’ve decided
Decided that’s the way I want it,
No negativity drawing shit to me,
If I’ve trouble, I don’t flaunt it,
What I believe, how I perceive,
Counts most I’m well aware,
That’s why the well-known victim badge,
Is one that I don’t wear,
It’s a good life,
Cuz I’ve decided!
BANKING BASTARDS
Wheelers and dealers,
Bankers with knives,
Slicing and dicing up,
Every day lives,
Buying and selling,
As much as they’re able,
With nary a clue,
About my kitchen table,
No ounce of concern,
About who gets burned,
Just their own bottom line,
Does a profit get turned?
No ethical squirms,
As they rape and they pillage,
Just financial concerns,
As they sell off each village,
Families out borrowing,
Just to buy milk,
While they lay around,
Counting threads in their silk,
Gambling and playing,
With everyday savings,
All steered by the market’s
Random psychotic ravings,
People so powerful,
Yet incredibly dumb,
Who need to be finally,
Brought under our thumb.
Pity The Bitter Optimist
Pity the bitter optimist,
He wants to rant and shake his fist,
But just can’t seem to bring himself to do so,
He doesn’t want to think the best,
He knows the world’s completely messed,
From his mouth it never quite rings true though,
He’s certainly no giddy fool,
Thinks cynical is kind of cool,
But is cursed to always find the silver lining,
He’s tried to practice sneer and scowl,
Even worked up an evil growl,
Still he knows somewhere the sun is always shining,
He makes his outside sort of tough,
Wears shades and reads the darker stuff,
But somewhere inside lives Little Orphan Annie,
He’s even tried to turn to drink,
He thought it’d make him mean I think,
Found his ability to laugh is near uncanny,
So if you are pessimistic,
I’m afraid to him it won’t stick,
Despite the twisted ruse he tries so oft to borrow,
Yes his charade is oh so thin,
For very much to his chagrin,
He can’t help but hope for better things tomorrow.
SLEEP
I guess this is like a little rant, on the topic of sleep. We all know how important it is, I think, and yet so many people seem to have trouble with it. There are studies galore about how sleep deprivation affects us. To name but a few:
aching muscles, confusion, memory lapses or loss, depression, hallucinations, hand tremors, headaches, bloodshot eyes, periorbital puffiness, commonly known as “bags under eyes” or eye bags, increased blood pressure, increased stress hormone levels, increased risk of diabetes, increased risk of fibromyalgia, irritability, nystagmus (rapid involuntary rhythmic eye movement), obesity, temper tantrums in children (probably in adults as well), yawning
(more here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleep_deprivation )
So often I hear from friends, either directly, or via FB status, that they have trouble sleeping to varying degrees, or have insomnia. My first reaction is always to want to say all kinds of comforting things like of course you can sleep, and I know you can make yourself sleep, and blah blah blah fucking blah, but the truth is I very very rarely have trouble sleeping, and I am routinely shocked, saddened, and appalled at the number of people who do so. It is truly truly disturbing. Sleep is so so so so so important. We cheat ourselves in so many ways by underestimating it. In our modern times it has often been a symbol of pride “oh I can get by on 3 hours” much the same as the American CEO who takes 2 weeks vacation for all 50 working years of his life, and is never ever sick. Sleep. Will yourself. Do everything possible. Turn everything off. Relax. Showers. No caffeine. Meditate. Deep breath. Do whatever it fucking takes. Drugs and alcohol if necessary. But sleep. Sleep deep, and well and feel the flights of angels whisk you off to the nether nether where the ethereal mix of fantasy and reality leave you wondering where you were once you awake and what was real and what was not.
Yeah, I Shed
Yeah, I shed,
Okay I said it.
It’d near define me if I let it,
For I can’t deny my birthday suit,
Is irreversably hirsute,
I’m well blessed by the Gods of Hair,
And it does tend to get everywhere,
I do my best to primp and fuss,
Get groomed at “Gorillaz R Us”,
Still I find these fluffy mounds,
Seems my shedding knows no bounds,
With beds it’s found both on and under,
On bathroom floors (though that’s no wonder),
But not confined to my own dwelling,
The scale of my shedding’s telling,
It’s been found in places near and far,
There may be some just where you are,
It’s been found on the forest floor,
A few strands up on Mount Rushmore,
Here and there some bits that ladies keep,
In the Falklands it’s been found on sheep,
Tough to spot there in Arabia,
But it sure stands out in Scandanavia,
There’s been a rumour I can’t scuttle,
They found some up on the space shuttle,
It’s even been found on the great wall of China,
And in livingrooms in Raleigh, North Carolina.
It Just Is
To everything perhaps a season,
That doesn’t mean a rhyme or reason,
Fate plays its hand without showing a card,
At times we’re ever so demanding,
In our need for understanding,
But the truth is sometimes life’s just bloody hard,
It’s also true it seldom lasts,
And at some point rough times are past,
Though we know some day they’ll come back our way,
So raise your glasses with your friends,
Know that every road has bends,
And that in the end joy will find a way.
Random Misanthrope 