Down the stairs, truth be told,
In grains of sand, each truth I hold,
The winds of change blowing through,
Where I stand a desert grew.
Long ago, a secret past,
In this cellar, the die was cast,
For trade in skin, bought and sold,
When all used up, left to the cold.
During the times of Jesus Christ,
The pagan north made sacrifice,
Long before the Romans tread,
Countless times, my floor, blood red.
Unrelenting darkness pressed down above the northern city trapped beneath the rubble of an intercontinental war it never asked for. Its only downfall is being landlocked between a wicked aggressor on the eastern front and indifference amongst the free and democratic societies to the west. The democratically elected government had aligned with the Western powers during the peaceful years following the Planetary Armistice of 2740.
The Eastern airforce was engaging in a campaign to carpet the rural grain and sheep farms with clusters of bombs precisely spaced to ensure maximum destruction of the arable countryside. Facing certain starvation, anger grew as it became clear that their allies had abandoned them. Sure, the West was providing stockpiles of old and neglected weaponry to shore up the National Resistance but compared to the weapons of modern warfare they were playing in the technological dark ages.
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This week’s theme for Sunday Song Lyric is “Precipitation”. Of course, there are hundreds of songs that reference rain and picking just one was a difficult task.
In the end I chose a track from one of Canada’s most prolific songwriters. It was once said that SOCAN, the Canadian equivalent of ASCAP, maintained the collected works of Canadian artists in the main archive and then maintain a separate room in the archive to hold the collected works of Gordon Lightfoot. Keep in mind this was before the age of electronic storage and likely an old wives’ tale but it speaks to how prolific Lightfoot was as a songwriter.
I can think of several Lightfoot songs referencing rain including such hits as “Rainy Day People” and “Early Morning Rain”. Those are not the songs I have settled on for today’s challenge. The song I have chosen does not explicitly speak of the rain although it does mention ‘freezing rain’ in the lyric. Instead, as you listen to the song you can feel the freezing November rain driving across the deck as Lightfoot skillfully weaves through his tail of mariner woe.
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Following the loyalist insurrection, many Minos separatists were forced to toil long unforgiving hours serving Earth’s greed-driven interests.
My clan survived the initial onslaught, fleeing to the shelter of the catacombs deep below the settlement. I miss the warmth of the Minoan suns but the long-forgotten passages have proved the perfect refuge for ostracized colonists.
The therapeutic properties of the moon’s super-heated core providing us with everything we need while planning our triumphant return to the surface.
Alrighty, I’ve never posted one of these challenge prompts before so this is a first.
Before I get started I am fully aware that ‘Monday’s Child’ is an English nursery rhyme but growing up it was first an Irish poem to me.
My Irish Nana from Ballywalter in the North of Ireland (before emigrating to Canada) had a decorative plate that sat on her fridge. It was decked out in full Irish motif with the poem printed prominently in the center. I was fascinated by it. Almost every time we visited the plate came down off its pedestal and Nana would read it to me.
Today I ask:
“On what day of the week were you born? In what ways does the line about the day of the week you were born resonate with the person you are today?”
Poem, prose or whatever catches your fancy. I look forward to your responses. Feel free to respond in the comments section below and/or through pingback. Remember to tag your post with #spdq for quick searching.
🍀🍀Happy St. Patricks Day.🍀🍀
Fandango’s Provocative Question asks us to weigh in on the U. S. Senate decision to do away with the semi-annual time change with the following questions:
Assuming you agree that we should have the same time year-round rather than moving up an hour each spring and back an hour each fall, do you favor going to permanent Daylight Saving Time or permanent Standard Time? Why do you feel that way?
Find my response below…
I must admit I have a love-hate relationship with the semi-annual time change. Love the extra hour of sleep in the fall and hate losing it in the spring. Personally, I prefer the time change but if I had to choose I’d give up the extra evening light and remain on Standard Time year-round.
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Where has it gone
Where did it go
Run the bulls
Dead bears blow
We got your back
A can’t lose plan
Your retirement
Now in the can
Stocks and bonds
Crypto too
Bought it high
Now I’m through
The economy
In freefall dive
At this rate
I won’t survive
GICs and
Bars of gold
Are all that’s left
To buy and hold
War and oil
What a mess
Inflation soaring
Do more with less
Hanging on
For it to turn
’cause I don’t got
The dough to burn
If this don’t end
I just might
Climb to the top
Jump into the night
I bring you a double shot for this week’s Song Lyric Sunday. In 1985 the Waterboys released their third studio album “This Is the Sea” marking the end of what was known as ‘the big music’ era in the band’s history. The first two tracks “Don’t Bang the Drum” and “The Whole of the Moon” both make mention of musical instruments in their lyrics. The first one is obvious as it appears in the title and the second mentions trumpets later in the song.
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Ally looked confused sifting through the course catalog. “How in the name of God do I pick a future right here and now?”
Her Grandfather chimed in, “Think of your future as a blank canvas. It may start with some timid strokes but if you are deliberately thoughtful in making your choices and you let your heart lead you to the things that are important an image will begin to take shape. There may be obstacles to overcome and course corrections to be made along the way but as long as you remain true to yourself those early strokes will begin to bristle with confidence; the watercolours replaced with a more permanent layer. By the time you get to my age, your story will be filled with many chapters and the masterpiece you will be remembered for will have taken shape; it will be your portrait immortal.”
Firtlin’ about in her seat she rolled her eyes at him and replied, “Always with the life advice Grandpa, thanks I just need to decide between the Arts or Sciences.”
As masking mandates come to an end in Ontario and many other jurisdictions there are many businesses and other venues that will still require clients and employees to wear masks. Trying to explain to people that this is not an affront to their freedom is an uphill battle. They seem to forget businesses can run their operation as they see fit. The goods and services they provide are at their leisure, they have no obligation to serve you. It is no different than the adage “no shoes, no shirt, no service.” Your rights and freedoms are not being infringed upon, you have the choice to comply or go elsewhere.
In my experience, the majority of individuals who raise a stink almost universally carry a mask and after making a jackass of themselves put it on and go about their business. If you are one of those people, remember that the sixteen-year-old working behind the counter did not set the policy. They have an absolute right to not be subjected to your opinions, frustration or abuse. If a mask is that big a deal go elsewhere otherwise shut up and put the damned thing on!
I was standing behind the counter when he walked in, mask in his hand.
“Sir, masks are mandatory,”
“Jesus, you people and your masks,” he shot back, “Government’s got you twisted up over the bloody flu.”
“In light of overwhelming science, I don’t purport to understand your position but without a mask you’ll have to leave.”
With a grumble, he put the mask on.
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