Don't try to make me just like you
I must cherish my free speech and thought
If I just clung on to your point of view
I’d relinquish a right which cannot be bought
LGBTQ people are dancing, spitting on, and defiling your grave
Well because ding dong, yet another witch is dead
Christian Broadcasting, you founded to minister and save
Condemned feminists as devils whom we should dread
We speak of religious right pundit Pat Robertson
Avowing 9/11 attacks as divinely ordained
The Queen is dead, but perhaps not gone
Because his small minded thoughts have remained
Nothing says Pride like the death of your proto-Hillsong
They won’t miss that homophobia which you did awake
So here’s to you Mr. Robertson
And your accusing gay men of a spiky HIV handshake
Categories:
robertson, farewell, gender, rights,
Form: Rhyme
Over half our country believes the bleep,
As web of tyranny over us creeps.
Cloaked as being fairness for the masses;
Freedom fleeting as each edict passes.
Right of free speech becomes obliterated.
As decent is no longer tolerated.
The delusion of by singing one song.
A way in which man might now get along.
The facts of history scream out warnings;
Which are ignored as non-conforming.
All that does not follow the narrative;
Bloviating pundits call pejorative.
I hope that none of these things come to pass.
I’m just drinking from a half empty glass.
I’m a mere poet, nary a prophet be.
But all these calamities I do foresee.
Categories:
robertson, culture, history, political, power,
Form: Couplet
His soul called out to me,
Simply, from his silhouette,
I feel connected to him,
Even though we've never met.
I stood in the crowd,
Completely awe inspired,
His voice was laced with passion,
Filled with everything I've desired.
He's at home up there,
Rocking out on stage,
Through chapters of my life,
He's on every page.
He had me at "Die for You",
Since then, I've been a fan,
I am totally stricken,
With the silhouette, of this man.
Categories:
robertson, appreciation, celebrity, inspiration, music,
Form: Ode
John had an accident with a motorbike,
Which left him paralysed from the waist,
So since then Sonar’s have been his like,
Three to five sailor boats which haste.
He’s from Sunderland and he trains hard,
At Weymouth & Portland Sailing Academy,
Born in February 1972 on the 11th card,
He sails with mates Stodal, Thomas manly.
In the fine Disabled World Championships,
In the mixed sonar, 2003 Athens, Greece,
The team of three won bronze for their lips,
‘Cos their team work paid off with grease.
2005 and Sonderborg in southern Denmark,
The trio took the gold, so 2006 and Australia,
Perth, the three took another gold quark:
2010 in Medembilk, Holland, silver weather.
In 2011 in Weymouth, Dorset in England,
The three of them made the silver position,
And in 2012 at Charlotte Harbour’s sand,
They gave a fine bronze medal exposition.
In the London 2012 games they came in 5th
So 9th in Rio, and John also plays tennis,
No phobias, his hero’s Valentino Rossi, pith,
And his favourite venue is Perth, simply bliss.
Categories:
robertson, sports, strength, water,
Form: Quatrain