Poem: Blogland

Dear Diary,

I just had the un-enviable task of tidying my mates room. Normally I wouldn't do so, not for all the tea in China! It's a sh¡t state, worse than mine or "Elrics" and that is saying something, let me tell you.

Dog pee, a mound of fluff and fur, dog-hairs, the place is a giant ashtray. I made sure to get a photograph of what a tip it was before, and intend to do the same once it's finished. I am not even sure if I can go back there, it's so smelly and horrible.

Alas, Maxy Waxy finally has another vote cast (by a different student), in the second round of elections. It means a tie-breaker (tiddly-wink decider at the tutorial?). It is the worst selection ever the 'competition'. Nightmare. I voted, not for mine own selection (the theme of 'Art', including Vincent's Sunflowers) but for another students, with the recurrent thread of 'the Human Body' (that which is directly relevant to the course material). The other choice on the tie breaker encompasses two of my pet-hates: technology and capitalism. Yeuch! The theme is 'necessary luxuries' which is a blatant oxymoron. Meaningless. Everybody else needs a credit card (I don't have one) and everyone else needs a plug socket. Not me. Grrr. Maybe we can rig the election... No. Maximus must do what is right, correct, as he always does. I have a conscience.

Anyway, I've just been inspired by past trauma to write a poem...

Blogland by Maxwell

"The maestro sans improvisation,
shares base commentemptation,
temporary gratification,
with the 'puter god of Ecosse,
The sausage-side savant,
who falls for maestro's rant,
well read in Bentham, Kant,
throws down the glove to moss;

That n'er sticks to me: the rolling rock,
hewn out of earths own stock,
the granite-made hobo block,
not head but phoenix flame,
The splurge king he means well,
but like all is duped, pray tell,
how do they stand that hell,
cat-kitten with no shame;

The fragile writer candle, wind,
who's man was full of sin,
abusive relation her kin,
a goddess who lived in Nippon,
Jameela has no enemy,
as she sows only purity,
it's the way we aught to be,
following her example of moving on,
forget your troubles, thou art strong,
believe, and you can't go wrong,
I belong, here, is where I belong;

The sunny side of the shire,
a phoenix rises from the fire,
his family symbol reaches higher,
to the stars above the sky...

It matters not one jot,
what they think, have, or have not,
For autonomy is my guide,
I never needed them outside,
for thirteen years of hardship spent,
I was there, it's time I went,
Back unto me, who I really am,
A true o'er-zealous man."