More mangling

Hey!

On the verge of the new year, here's another deranged erasure poem. Enjoy!

 

**

 

"What? Who?"

 

What child

                                                            is sleeping?

            Angels?                                   Sweet.

            ) her                 at                     peek (

This                 is                     the

                        guard               and

Ha ha,

                                                            Mary

Not really the spirit

 I call this a deranged erasure poem.

**

 

"Em em em"

O

                         captive

mourn in lonely exile

until ——

 

 

                                                Free

thine own                   

                                    people:

            give them victory

 

 

                                                Cheer

our spirits:

disperse the gloom

            and dark shadows

shall come

 

 

Make safe

                        the path to misery

 

 

                                                Might

thy

                        times

                                                awe

                        thee

 

 

Forty years later

 

People of a certain age remember the moment they heard President Kennedy had been assassinated or where they were as they watched the moon landing. People from a younger generation remember learning that Kurt Cobain was dead or that Princess Diana's car had been involved in a fatal accident in Paris.

I remember the night John Lennon was murdered. For me, that was the day the music died.

I'm not a huge Beatles fan, and I'm aware that John Lennon had his own demons (you may recall, wincing, that one of my favourite Beatles songs is "Run for Your Life"). Obviously I never met the man. But I mark December 8 this year, and every year, to mourn someone who added to the net joy in the world. To mourn that that mission was intentionally cut short by a deranged mind. To mourn someone who in some ways inspires me every day.

Today I am grateful that the world contained a John Lennon for even the short time it did. And I commit again to my personal mission to be a force for peace and good. Even in the darkest times. Music represents my rage against the darkness.

There is always light if we turn our eyes to it. Shine on, John. Shine bright.

 

Got yer nose

Hey, folks. So here we are nine months into a pandemic, and at present the numbers and the trend are not good. Particularly when I live in a city with a mask mandate (as well as periodic reminders to maintain physical distance and wash hands regularly). 

After a few events of being out in public more than usual, I must issue this following warning.

Wear your mask. That means cover both your mouth and your nose.

Because today I am putting it out there. If I see your nose poking out uglily from the top of your mask and you're doing nothing about it ...

I might flick your nose!

That's it. Back to the advent countdown.