Trying to avoid the news

Posted on by gizzajob

The news, even Social Media, is freaking me out. I, genuinely, believe we’re in Dante’s Inferno. However, I can only change myself. No more attempts to save the World; while still going to McDonald’s and Starbucks! (j/k)

I feel a bit bland. Having set myself challenges for 2020; the past eleven months have turned everything upside down. God will sort me out. There’s no one else to turn to.

Poem – I don’t want to wear a mask!

The Golden Circle of Ocean Colour Scene

Politicians talking one for the team

Won’t end until there’s a Vaccine!

I don’t want to wear a mask!

Expressing solidarity

with Ruby, Jenny and AP

Twelve hour shift, but only lasted three!

I don’t want to wear a mask!

I don’t want to wear a mask!

I want to remember the Holy Child!

It’s a hard, but worthy, task

Manchester and London reconciled!

A bypass full of dense fog

Thinking of an infected Sprog!

Punk by nature, but playing Prog!

I don’t want to wear a mask!

They said that my leader is a whore

While sorting out the de-gown chore!

Left me breathless, contact Jim Corr!

I don’t want to wear a mask!

I don’t want to wear a mask!

I’m not riding a peleton bike!

Coffee in a Tim Horton’s flask

Turning me into David Icke!

Couldn’t fit the suit, due to my groin!

Too fond of a sirloin

And a perfect pass by De Bruyne!

I don’t want to wear a mask!

No more open pubs

To hear the bitching about the Dubs!

Davy Crockett, but without Tubbs!

I don’t want to wear a mask!

I don’t want to wear a mask!

It’s a cartoon from the eighties!

Too much wealth Monegasque

Sent over to fix Haïti!

A lifetime with Autism!

The Reformation and the Great Schism!

The world’s now just one huge prison!

I don’t want to wear a mask!

Looking for work? They don’t care!

We all now have to do our own hair

‘Cause the Kingmakers are all on Welfare!

I don’t want to wear a mask!

Hell is other people

Posted on by gizzajob

Even as a Christian, I can have a misanthropic streak inside me. Dealing with others, in the Cattle Market of life, can be a forced exercise.

Today, I passed an old man cycling on a B Road, heading home from Portadown, and only God’s grace kept me safe. Now, I’m trying to relax. Stinking Thinking has me in a tizzy whenever I make a mistake.

I had an interview on Zoom last Thursday. No joy, but I requested feedback.

The Derry and Strabane District is subject to a localised Lockdown, now. I must be grateful that my brother’s home. My plan was to relocate to the Donemana/Aughabrack/Glenmornan/Artigarvan area. But God hit me with a two-by-four on that.

Tunes:

Lest We Forget

Posted on by gizzajob

Three Years, to this evening, little girls were targeted by a Terrorist at an Ariana Grande gig; in the name of ‘Peace.’

Tunes:

I wish I was in Macclesfield

Posted on by gizzajob

Today marks the fortieth anniversary of Ian Curtis’ suicide. I was meant to be in his native Macclesfield today to commemorate. However, the Tyrants have us in Lockdown. England has gradual reopening, already, while Northern Ireland, Scotland and Wales still want us to stay at home.

Nevertheless, I’m learning to cope. I ordered Lavender-flavoured Organic Shampoo; I never washed my hair in the past few years. Now, I’m doing more self-care. Also, I got cotton makeup pads to apply the coconut oil I got last week for my face. The leftover plastic boxes, from the orders of Chicken Chow Mein I’ve had, can be used to store the pads. Those takeaways weren’t such a waste of money, after all. Plus, I also have leftover boxes from the Mayflower curry powder.

Also, happy Victoria Day to all Canadians. Here comes Summer. In this country, it’s wet and miserable; Summer for us. 😀

Tunes:

The Cities (Poem I wrote about cities being too similar) *Contains Profanity*

Posted on by gizzajob

Nothing is pretty anymore

for the cities have to settle some sort of score!

The atmosphere everywhere is nihilist and caustic

stuck in a dystopian vortex!

 

Every city has a Student population

which contributes heavily to Microsoft Corporation!

Non-differentiating, multinational multilingusists

where London is Irish

and Dublin’s English!

 

And young men express their resentment towards University Flankers

by saying, “Youse are all fucking Wankers!”

Cities engulfed in Government-run Drug Wars

where there’s no innocence anymore!

 

Manchester now has Tory conferences

no more terraced housing!

Just run down ghettos with high-rise flats

and a well-done-up City Centre arousing!

 

Liverpool’s no longer about the Tavern

just Culchie Blades from Ulster on Hen Nights!

And Blokes after Strippers

looking to watch the next Bellew fight!

 

But where’s Belfast in all of this?

Going down the same road?

Reckless Nouveau Riche like Mr Toad?

 

We have our problems

but we need to put things in perspective!

Hopefully there won’t be a driective

that would make our way of life ineffective!

 

Compared to one hundred miles away

we’re doing pretty well!

Hope and pray we keep our identity

to avoid a cultural Hell!

 

 

Superman told me not to smoke (Poem I wrote in 2014)

Posted on by gizzajob

Superman told me not to smoke.

 

The world and his wife are puffing on a fag.

The Inner City girls in Pyjamas looking like the Sea Hag.

Pushing their prams with intent.

Doing their bit to affect the headcount.

But Superman told me not to smoke.

Art Students playing folk, country and jazz.

Light up with some protest against the ban on smoking inside.

A defiant display of nihilist pride.

Thinking that being John Wayne will make us feel their pain.

But Superman told me not to smoke.

 

What’s the point of sending Teenage Girls to School nowadays?

They will never obey any more rules nowadays.

They proclaim their adulthood while still carrying Hello Kitty schoolbags.

Sixteen is the new twenty-one.

But Superman told me not to smoke.

Never meet your heroes.

They will view you as a social zero.

The nation thrived on 20 Regal in the 70’s and 80’s.

Then the 90’s progressed into ecstasy.

But Superman told me not to smoke.

An Tour Mór (Sonnet I wrote about driving across the Sperrins today)

Posted on by gizzajob

He who rides a tiger is scared to dismount!

Not like the fear I had driving to Aughabrack via Feeny

trundling up the hills on the road from Moneymeaney

until I approached the crossroads dissecting the Park to Dungiven road!

Heading to Aughabrack I noticed ‘Road Ahead Closed’ signs

the road towards Plumbridge was closed!

Mrs. Kerlin said it’s due to a stretch of road being widened!

Blade heading towards Plumbridge showed me a detour

where I nearly drove into a hole on the right-hand road edge!

But I got over safe thanks to that Angel sent from Heaven!

Drove back home via Greencastle

nearly missing a sharp turn and almost into a side road

as well as nearly witnessing a collision at Kildress!

“Holy Jesus! Thon’s some journey!”

Was at a poetry gig this lunchtime

Posted on by gizzajob

I went to see Mike Garry headlining a poetry gig from 11:30 am to 1:15 pm at the Black Box in Belfast and got to immerse myself in eclectic poetry from him and the support acts.

 

I braved the elements this morning, exaggeration, to get the bus to Belfast from Castledawson park-and-ride; which should be my home address. 🙂 Then after I got back I got groceries at Lidl. Chop wood, carry water. 🙂

 

I found out about the Red Pill Studio and wonder how I can contact them without resorting to either Twitter or Facebook. Every time you log onto one of those two sites, God kills a Calf! Someone think of the Calves! 🙂

 

Arsenal won again, after eight minutes of injury time and getting a penalty at the end. Jaysus, talk about skating on thin ice.

 

One of the support acts was a quintessential Millennial originally from a Scumbag area of Dublin, but now a budding Actress living in London. (imagine Buffy with a Flat Dublin Accent) I mentioned seeing Mike support John Cooper Clarke at Dun Laoghaire last May and about the bus that goes from Tallaght to Dun Laoghaire. The number 75.

 

Just a little plug for Mike Garry; his EP ‘St. Anthony – a tribute to Anthony H. Wilson’ is available on iTunes.

When you’re middle class (poem)

Posted on by gizzajob

When you’re middle class no one will fight for ya!

The wealthy enslave you

while the Pikeys talk shite to ya!

 

You feel emasculated

just like a bullock

just because you idolised Bono

instead of Ian McCulloch!

 

You find salvation in Arts Festivals

which make you feel important

with a sixty-something Post-Punk veteran

who grew up in Gorton!

 

He swears the blue streak away

like he’s from the Land of the free!

That’s what happens when you have a Jewish MP!

 

The middle class drown sorrows with Carling

instead of wife-beating Stella

because our jobs are under threat because of the Rockerfellers!

 

Too well off for ESA

but can’t afford trade missions to China!

Overqualified and underappreciated

and the mountains are for Gold miners!

 

The family silver and gold is now owned by Canada

while we can no longer have a Tim Horton’s!

Yours sincerely Tony, Teresa, David and Gordon!

 

Apple store customer from Dublin sings ‘Only our rivers run free!’

Yet I’d rather it be him than me!

Corruption in our country is just as bad as yours!

The middle class shifted behind closed doors!