Four More Years!

I had a few by-laws of my own when I started this blog. One was to keep politics out of it. Rules are meant to be broken right? I got a great laugh from this poem  I thought it was amazing fun. Especially so because of the writer a WWII veteran Mr. Ralph Maxwell. Enjoy!

Wherefore Art Thou Mitt Romney

O, Romney-O, Romney-O, Wherefore art thou, Mitt Romney?

You flip-flop here, you flip-flop there,

You flip-flop almost ev’rywhere.

You ballyhoo what you’re gonna do

And then you pull a switcheroo;

You now malign what you found fine;

Seems like you’ve got a jellyfish spine.

Obamacare, by you begun,

Now you’d trash it on day one.

Gun control you did extol,

But now you’re preaching decontrol.

O, Romney-O, Romney-O, Wherefore art thou, Mitt Romney?

We’ve got no clue what you will do

Or what new view you’ll pander to.

Time was you championed women’s choice,

But you no longer heed their voice;

On gay rights, too, guess you withdrew

Support they once enjoyed from you.

Global warming, EPA,

Immigration, minimum pay,

Roe V. Wade, also fair trade,

All joined your flip-flop cavalcade.

O, Romney-O, Romney-O Wherefore art thou, Mitt Romney?

So many things that you were for

You’ve turned against and slammed the door.

Stimulus and cap and trade,

Education, foreign aid,

Campaign reform, tarp rescues, too,

All victims of your switcheroo.

You take your stand on shifting sand,

We never know where you will land;

You vacillate, you fabricate,

A wishy-washy candidate.

O, Romney-O, Romney-O, Wherefore art thou Mitt Romney?

As gov’nor you let taxes rise,

Now ev’ry tax you demonize.

You say regardless of the facts

You’d take an axe to the millionaire’s tax;

You’d feed the greed of the richest few

The poor and middle class you’d screw.

Your tax returns you hide from view

What evil lurks there we’ve no clue;

If they’re not bad why hesitate?

Is it that they incriminate?

O, Romney-O, Romney-O, Wherefore art thou Mitt Romney?

At Bain you plundered with a flair

And walked away a zillionaire.

You shipped off-shore, good jobs galore

To China, India, Singapore;

A job creator you are not.

And to boast you are is tommyrot.

As a total fraud, Mitt’s got no peer;

What we must do is crystal clear:

Let’s give Obama four more years!

Yes, it’s Obama – four more years!




Ode On a Grecian Urn

I made reference to Ode on a Grecian Urn in 30 Days of KINK~Day 14. Here is the poem itself, along with a picture of the Urn he wrote of.

Ode on a Grecian Urn
THOU still unravish’d bride of quietness,
  Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
  A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape          5
  Of deities or mortals, or of both,
    In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
  What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
    What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?    10
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
  Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d,
  Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave   15
  Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
    Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;
    She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
  For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!    20
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
  Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearièd,
  For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!   25
  For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d,
    For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
  That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d,
    A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.    30
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
  To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
  And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea-shore,   35
  Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
    Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
  Will silent be; and not a soul, to tell
    Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.    40
O Attic shape! fair attitude! with brede
  Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
  Thou, silent form! dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!   45
  When old age shall this generation waste,
    Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
  Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,
‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
    Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.’~John Keats


They Say That Hope Is Happiness~Lord Byron

I wrote about this poem in 30 Days of  KINK~Day 14, so here it is, enjoy another look into human nature.

They Say That Hope is Happiness

They say that Hope is happiness—
But genuine Love must prize the past;
And mem’ry wakes the thoughts that bless
They rose the first—they set the last.

And all that mem’ry loves the most
Was once our only hope to be:
And all that hope adored and lost
Hath melted into memory.

Alas! it is delusion all—
The future cheats us from afar,
Nor can we be what we recall,
Nor dare we think on what we are.

30 Days of KINK~ Day 14

Day 14: How would you say real life BDSM/kink varies from fantasy BDSM/kink? If you haven’t experienced real life BDSM/kink how do you think it might differ?


Day 14 of 30 days of kink.

I am sitting confined to an airplane. So why not write, right? PS I will never fly US airways again. I digress. The topic for day 14 is the difference between fantasy kink and the real thing.

So I got to thinking, what is considered fantasy kink? There couple probably be a few answers to that question but I figured I would focus on three. One the world of cyber-sex, and the kinkiness that inhabits it. Two the fantasy that comes from the printed word, and then three, the fantasies that play out in our minds.

So the questions remains, what are the main differences. The foremost difference of course is the sensations. You could be fucking yourself into two weeks from Sunday with a grade a vibrating dildo, using all the fantasies you have in your mind. Yet you can’t create the sensations that come from serving a master can you? Well of course not, but you may have something better.

While I was considering this topic it made me think of a couple of poems. One of which is “They Say That Hope is Happiness” by Lord Byron. The other poem is Ode on a Grecian Urn” by John Keats. In “They Say That Hope is Happiness”, Byron writes about the hope that we humans have. How it is always what we can’t have that we want. Our fantasies have the ability to engulf us from reality if we let it. How does this British poet relate to the world of KINK?

Look at it this way, a big difference between fantasy kink in our heads, is that in our mind we glorify it, We make it to what we want it to be. In fantasy there is never a bad lover. You skip the moments where you are gassy, or, you body doesn’t cooperate the way you necessarily want it to.

In reality you have the hot, the sexy, the amazing fucks that leave you with the shakes (aren’t those amazing), along with the not so hot, not so sexy, not so amazing  The two are not mutually exclusive. In fact I dare to claim that in most heavily kinky relationships you come to appreciate the bad timing. The bodily functions that simply bring you closer together.  Who else would you share that part of yourself with?

Now onto Keats, in “Ode on a Grecian Urn” Keats the speaker is talking to a young man who has died a virgin. He is stuck on this urn with his lover just out of reach. They will never be able to copulate. They will never be able to know the ecstasy that so many of us know.

Keats however tells this young virgin that he has it good. That he will always have this moment in life right before you get there. Why? Because sometimes once you get it, it simply isn’t all that it is cracked up to be. There is a reason for the saying “I will try anything twice.” It is because so many of us, have fantasized about something, anything, and when we finally have what we have dreamed of, it is let down. In our minds, in our fantasies, just like Byron said, we have come to glorify it.

So in a slightly large nutshell the biggest difference is that in fantasy, everything is perfect. In reality you take the good the bad and the ugly. Yes sometimes it is ugly. Those amazing times, though, they make those other times so very worth it.