Dread Poets Sobriety

*My sincerest apologies, the first draft was accidentally published without adequate proofreading. This was obviously unacceptable so I trashed and corrected everything. I am deeply sorry for the double post/ email. Please delete the first one, it’s not good! And if you did suffer through I doubly apologize.

Good morrow, or if this post takes more than an hour to write- good afternoon! I do hope everyone is enjoying a tremendous or at minimum tolerable hump-day. What do you associate with the term “hump day”? Camels? Some kind of gym-like barrier/obstacle? A more lascivious notion perhaps? For me, I’m a camels man. Not a Camels man, that shit will kill you and kill you ugly. Fuck nicotine. Anyway…

So here we are, it’s almost June, and I’ve been a fairly absent “creator” of late and I do apologize. Life may find a way but it sure finds a way to be in the way sometimes. Ms. Muffet and her damnable curds. Alas, let’s enjoy the time we have, and I don’t mean here (I mean, I do) but I was orbiting a more macro perspective. It behooves us all to take a moment to slow down, admire our surroundings, feel grateful for all the gifts life has bestowed upon us, principally the treasure that is life itself. Not to get even more overly cliché but life, despite its tangled knots and horrid aspects, it’s all we have. This moment right now and each passing, that’s what it’s truly about. We cannot change the past nor predict the future but at this moment, anchored by our breath which exclusively occurs in the present (impossible to save or move forward a breath, after all), this is life. Breathe, take it in. Personally, the power and transcendence of nature is the closest thing I have to a God and that’s where I like to focus. The blowing trees creating mock images in the leaves like a magic eye puzzle, vibrant grass and its intoxicating aroma, chirping creatures of land and air, the breathtaking sky in its vastness and totality. That is Life to me.  

I really need to stop listening to classical music when I write these. The tone always becomes so much more serious. I don’t even have a joke prepared. Checked the file, but nothing good enough. Something about a Trashterpiece and some Phallasizing half-remark but nothing really but empty shells and hollow punchlines. Maybe the joke is me? 

So, poetry, I have 8 “finished poems in my file and I don’t like a single one. So, we’re going retro! I wrote this poem for my loving mother last year as part of a Christmas present. She has gracefully allowed me to share it with you so, please enjoy, I’m extremely fond of this one!

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“The gHost of Christmas Past”, Dec, 1, 2022.

Woken up, the crack of dawn 

Blankets off and slippers on 

Down the stairs and to the tree 

Kids crackling electrically 

Boxed perfection rest under 

Evergreen’s sparkling wonder 

Stockings hung atop their perch 

Praise god for forgoing church 

Breakfast for the more mature 

The rest left to time endure 

At last great spectacle yields 

Unwrapped jewelled strawberry fields 

Riotous laughter and joy 

All the world in a mere toy 

Most special day of the year 

And over time’s become clear 

Obvious Christmas’s core 

Mom, who couldn’t have done more. 

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I chose not to replace the original “Mom” with “they” or something more inclusive because maybe it was your mom, dad, uncle, grandparents whoever, but I hope someone made Christmas epic for you. And if not Xmas whatever holidays you celebrate. That said, it didn’t scan properly with different words so yeah, love you Mom:p. You too Dad! I know you did plenty of stuff as well! Mom was just a veritable Christmas fairy.  

Christmas itself means very little to me now but as a kid, it really was the best day of the year. A wonderful vacation from studies, visiting family, presents and hanging with friends, glorious. Some of that still applies but the veneer wore off long ago.

For fun, here’s a little song I “composed” when my entire family, including myself, caught Covid this past year literally on Christmas Eve. Timing has always been my strong suit. It’s to the tune of the Christmas, Baby Please Come Home, if that wasn’t abundantly obvious.:)

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“Baby Please Stay Home”, Dec. 25, 2023.

Coviiiiiid, we’re all stuck at home

Coviiiiiid, thank lord for this phone 

Coviiiiiid, you test every day

Coviiiiiid, but won’t go away 

The tree looked so damn fine,

Was hype to drink some wine,

Would have settled for a beer, 

There will always be next year!

Coviiiiiid, being alone is lame 

Coviiiiiid, just more of the same 

Coviiiiiid, I love you all so much 

Coviiiiiid, emotions and other such.

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I guess I didn’t feel like going any further at the time. Still fun to sing in your head in my opinion. Or at least it was at the time!

I hope the spirit of whatever season stirs within and you get to feel the primordial flame that is enlightened existence. I’m not there but maybe one day. suffering is exclusively in the mind, change your relationship to pain and it softens measurably. Accept instead of run. Unless your accepting a run and cardio is always great. Get a sweat on, gurl! And sirs and others:)

Wishing you all a blessed, camel-filled and cigarette-free afternoon. We have indeed surpassed the threshold. Too many words. So thank you so much if you’ve made it this far. It means the world to me and I pray (secularly) that even one person takes something positive away from this. As a final note, you are loved. Even if you can’t see it right now, someone, somewhere always cares. I promise. You ARE loved.

Happy Trails and Waggy Tales!

Alex Blaikie

PS. I’m using the flag image until the world finally comes to its senses. It might be a while…

PPS. There is something up with WordPress, I’m still finding errors and omissions I know 100% I corrected. My apologies again for the lack of grace. Time for me to take my own advice. Slow down, deep breath, find calm and embrace it. And fix any other GD resilient typos! Entire sections were missing on publish, baffling.