The world is a strange shade of gray when you're hungry. I was hungry. Hungry for attention. She looked at me from across the table.

"Hmph" was all I could reply. I hated looking at her face. The wrinkles and faded brown of her slow eyes. Her teased up hair was from the '80s and it apparently never went out of style. Her short yellow teeth repulsed me and she was ruining my lunch.

I had been listening to her clamor on about her promotion and how much money she was making and how her job sucked cause they didn't let her get away with murder.

First world problems, I guess. Couldn't bitch too much, cause her promotion was paying for lunch.

But I had things to say too. I sat and politely waited for my turn to speak. That never came.

My world was inevitably 15 and gray.

The beginning of life:

Mama

Starts the linguistic

Drama

Words heard - whispered

Language Learned and Loved

ABCs

Before 123s

Reading writing relevance

Trance of stance

Eloquence

Rhymes so (fine)

Lettersallinline

Trip off the Lip

Flung off the tongue

Songs sung in h y m n

Humms happily yearn for words

Poetic players

p r a n c i n g

D A N C I N G

l y r i c i s m

Bards read

The stars

To shape our fate

C R E A T E

P.u.n.c.t.u.a.t.i.o.n

cause creation!

Wrote the "quote"

Spectacular vernacular

Whet the pen

And... Begin

Til

The End

It was 1974, I was stationed in Hong Kong and I was Guard Commander one night.

It was getting late and walked outside the Guardroom to check some guys that were leaving the barracks to spend the night on the town.

I noticed that the whole area was lit in this deep red haze and looking out westward I was dumbstruck by the most gorgeous deep red sunset I've ever seen. It was one of those moments the leave you rooted to the spot and just stare in awe at natures power and magnificence.

Had I an iPhone then I would have filled the memory with photos of it.

My worst job fell into my lap right after I became a civvy - security guard working for a dumb firm that paid £1 an hour.

The job involved staying awake and doing periodic security patrols with this dog that hated me.

It remains the most spiteful, malicious and fucked up dog I ever saw!

It is more false than it is sexist.

"God" is by definition the origin and creator of the world/universe/cosmos, which means that God transcends and includes all that constitutes this or any world/universe/cosmos, which necessarily includes all ideas, categories, and labels pertaining to this or any world/universe/cosmos.

Referring to God as "He" or as "She" is essentially no different from referring to God as "tree" or as "fire" or as "telephone" because all of these words - he, she, tree, fire, telephone, anything - are but the result of God's (by definition of God, regardless of whether God exists) creation.

God is everything because everything by definition originates from God. God is not He or She, Masculine or Feminine. God is the originator and creator of these ideas with which to begin, meaning God is both and neither, for God transcends and includes all.

God is simply the Ultimate, Infinity itself if you will, and it's silly to refer to this Reality as a result of the patriarchal society in which most of us have been living - as a He or She or It - because God is simply God.

Tell me a story of a happy old man, singing a song just as loud as he can, listen as he sings, put a copper in his hat, hope one day that you'll be happy like that,

Sing me a song that'll reach my soul, heal my wounds so my heart is whole,

Carry me aloft on a wave of sound, all the little children gonna jump around,

Tell me a story of a ship that sailed, far across the ocean to a land called Wales, high in the Beacons we will pitch our camp, never ever worry if we wake up damp,

Sing me a song that'll melt my heart, with a feel good factor to impart,

Don't hold back because I need a lift, just make a start and your mood will shift,

There is an old man in the Lake District, he isn't very stern and he's never so strict, you'll find him kicking down those Fell side streets, strung on his cans and loving his Beats,

Sing me a song that don't make sense, it doesn't really matter if it's too intense, get me in the mood for a belting time, wherever you are's gonna be sunshine.

This once noble Island with forests of green,

And carpets of grass like you never have seen,

Once home to Legends and Knights of The Realm,

Now stutters and cowers and bows to the world.

Oh what has become of our Island so fair?

Now sullied and downtrodden, living in fear,

I yearn for those halcyon days of the past,

When my beautiful England stood tall and steadfast.

Those stout folk of Harlech were brothers back then,

And Scotland's proud Armies did bolster our ken,

But now they have parted with no fare thee well,

And Union Jack lies in tatters instead.

Fair weather Allies lie plotting with glee,

Euphoric that England has bended the knee,

And in the New World seeds of terror are sewn,

While England's new rulers look out for their own.

Oh what shall become of our children and homes,

While plotters and perverts walk freely along,

Those streets once secure under Sheriff's stern gaze,

Are only safe now for a while through the day.

I call upon Arthur; return to your seat,

And ready your table the Knights for to meet,

And restore our fair isle to the glories of yore, Remember your promise, England and Saint George.