Mother’s Day Poem

When your mother has grown older,
And you have grown older,
When what was once easy and effortless
Now becomes a burden,

When her dear, faithful eyes
No longer see life as they once did,
When her feet, grown tired,
No longer want to carry her as she walks —

Then give her your arm for support;
Accompany her with gladness and joy.
The hour will come when, weeping
You will accompany her on her final walk.

And if she asks for something, then answer her.
And if she asks again, then speak.
And if she asks yet again, respond to her,
Not stormily, but with gentle calm.

And if she cannot understand you well,
Explain everything to her joyfully.
The hour will come, the bitter hour,
When her mouth will ask for nothing more.

Adolf Hitler

* “Denk es,” from the Sunday Morgenpost, Munich, May 14, 1925

Source: HITLER’S POETIC TRIBUTE TO ELDERLY MOTHERS

To my True Love: Never Let Me Down Again

Beautiful Empyrean

Rambling on to a stranger in that
Smoky
Dark
Salon
Bending his ear
With nothing to fear
As the clock struck
High noon
All knowing stares
From people
Who care
Should have stayed at home
To pray
Misguided awareness
Fraught with illusions
A splendid forgery
Paltry tokens of wisdom bait
A plethora of fictitious praises
Peck away at
Paradise
Perceived
Playacted again
Life’s full of sin
In
The minds of wry
Teachers
Pay
No never mind he begins
With a rare toothy grin
Your
Secrets are safe with
Me
He lit up a
Stogie and spoke
Through a savory veil of smoke
Take it from me
Your
Best friend is
Thee
So try not to judge so
Hardhearted
If life supreme
Is in your dreams
Don’t bumble your way through
The Gauntlet of Ill Intentions
‘Twill be a mighty
Shift you’ll see
When you lighten that
Carking load
No crosses to bear
Let the wind in your hair
And blow
Sweet Kisses

Beautiful Empyrean

© Elaine Byrne

Lovely thinking music for weekend anarchists: Enya – Shepherd Moons

Beautiful Empyrean

Beautiful Empyrean

Rambling on to a stranger in that Smoky Dark Salon bending his ear with nothing to fear as the clock struck High noon
All knowing  stares from people who care should have stayed at home to pray
Misguided awareness fraught with illusions a splendid forgery
Paltry tokens of wisdom bait a plethora of fictitious praises peck away at Paradise Perceived
Playacted again Life’s full of sin in the minds of wry Teachers
Pay no never mind he begins with a rare toothy grin your Secrets are safe with Me
He lit up a Stogie and spoke through a savory veil of smoke
Take it from me your Best friend is Thee so try not to judge so Hardhearted
If life supreme is in your dreams don’t bumble your way through The Gauntlet of Ill Intentions

Twill be a mighty Shift you’ll see when you lighten that Carking load
No crosses to bear let the wind in your hair and blow Sweet Kisses
Beautiful Empyrean

©Elaine Byrne

Monday Blues with Deep Forest

As i watched my planet and all my friends get corrupted and die

I wonder why no one is doing anything about it

Revolution is great

But it ain’t happening

We need to overthrow everything

Now

Discard all we have been taught

Discard what our parents churches govs and asswipes showed down our throats

If they don’t like it, kill them

Kill them all until they don’t exist in your head

Like the oxygen thieves they are

Frankie Puff Dingaling

Now I am just plain cheating. This is not Deep Forest anymore. This is music from my hometown. OK, it’s more than that. It’s Satanic. I was in cults before I grew up. What can I tell ya? By the way, Marquis de Sade is still one of best writers ever.

 

 

Charles Bukowski – Bluebird (2 min)