|Your Life: The Movie
|Who will play you:||Johnny Depp
|Who will play your love interest:||Alyson Hannigan
|Weeks you will stay in the box office:||14|
|Song that will play during your love scene:||Britney Spears – Hit Me Baby One More Time
|Song that will play during your death:||REM – Try Not to Breathe
|Quiz created with MemeGen!|
It’s been an OK day, but I’ve felt cold and not done a whole lot other than visit at work and fill out silly memes.
So… in the interests of doing something productive… here are my two holiday poems of late.
It’s hard to think Christmas when we’re at war.
Men and boys are dying for our oil,
but “Joy to the World” plays in every store;
“Twelve Days” jangles in an endless coil
and the shops are full of shit no one needs.
You can’t find peace for sale, even online,
not with Army grunts dying in the reeds
along the Euphrates. Where’s the divine?
Rest assured — this present darkness will end,
and some future darkness will take its place.
But mortal acts of love can heal and mend,
and angels all begin in human grace.
This Christmas, if you would meet Deity,
go to your inner Bethlehem, and see.
Hymn for the Winter Solstice
Hail to thee, Night of Darkness Ascendant!
The sun flees the sky and leaves you the field,
solemn and old, depressed and repentant,
scattering the last of his evening gold.
Now come the days of the Lords of Misrule,
who turn all law and custom up-side down,
who make merry against the dying light.
So we praise the secret meaning of Yule,
when the red-suited prankster comes to town,
to make the poor rich, and dispense delight
though snow and the wolf-pack howl at the door.
Is there any more honest rebellion
than giving good to the weak and the poor
on a night of secret celebration?
And therefore the powers scream, Buy! Buy! Buy!
limiting with plastic the children’s gifts,
while adults fear the season’s debts creeping.
Yet Scriptures and tradition both deny
Caesar’s coinage, though our attention drifts:
In Ramallah, a mother’s voice, weeping.
Refocus us, O Holy Solstice Night,
and kindle a spark of change in my brain.
Redefine for us the meaning of light
for as long as winter darkness remain.
And redefine the darkness for me, too,
when right hand does not know the left hand’s deed,
whos gifts bring change no power can defer:
the sun’s gold returning, gleaming and new;
frankincense smoke, reflecting Spirit’s need;
transformation smeared with honey, and myrrh.