Bad Broadcasters Deserve Death: No More Earth Birthdays

No More Earth Birthdays

Today would have been my mother's 93rd birthday, but it's only her Earth birthday. She has a new and better birthday now in Heaven. There's no point wishing her a happy birthday today. I wouldn't want to drag her back here for any reason after the way she suffered for being my mother. Wherever she is, I hope she doesn't even remember she's my mother. I want her to be happy.

Here's the poem I sent her for her last birthday on Earth. I wanted her to be relieved of her maternal grief over my sorry victimhood. I wanted to show her how I viewed the crime with my work, how fleeting I think the rewards of lies and fraud truly are - however much the TV wants us to pine for them. It is another rewritten work, so I probably made the same effort in 2007, in order to ease her suffering. Since those monsters on TV want to turn everything I write into a cheap comedy sketch, I wouldn't be surprised if this was molested in the same way. Well, now you hopefully have a deeper sense of its meaning. And, yes, it did work. She wrote me back, saying how pleased she was to have a son who 'always knows the right thing to say.' I miss being able to send my mom poems on her birthday.

She was Irish, and got me into writing poems at a young age. She was a sweet, simple soul who had much in common with the servant I've depicted in this work.

The Servant

The servant considered it a winning trade
To submit to her master's ridiculous pride
In exchange for her share of the fortune he made
And for having the loftiest place to reside

His great hall resounded with glorious mirth
As the highest nobility gathered to play
From their perch they could look down upon the whole Earth
And be sure that below them is where it would stay

Amid sights that would dazzle and sounds that would please
Her misgivings extinguished as soon as they rose
And her chores were completed with relative ease
To the common array of laborious woes

Though among the cloud dwellers her position was low
Over most other people she felt she'd been raised
For the clouds were as high as a person could go
And the master who's great has a servant who's praised

After cleaning and straightening up for the day
To her quarters she went for a well deserved rest
And as usual gave up a moment to pray
When to her surprise at her side stood a guest

He was far more impressive in appearance to those
Who had come to cavort and to gloat at the view
But to call himself 'servant' he happily chose
As he held her hand tight and away they both flew

Past the moon and the planets, at the speed of a thought
They traveled through space as in wonder she stared
Until even the sun had become a mere dot
And with vast constellations the heavens they shared

Then they came to a gate which to them gave way
And at once they were bathed in a rapturous glow
Of a brilliant kingdom whose finest house lay
Where her able companion and she were to go

Its floor was a weave that was kind to the feet
Its walls were adorned in colors that danced
At a bountiful table she took a plush seat
And her inquiry of this promotion she chanced

The other sat too and he picked up a lyre
To expertly strum as he spoke his reply:
'To see and to know of the places much higher
Than that stoop so constrained by the Earth's tiny sky

'The self-centered fool sees his place at the top
As for any and all the ultimate peak
From whence further advancement must pointlessly stop
And base hedonism alone were to seek

'On the shallow perception of others below
His flimsy position completely depends
But without the heart to independent gain know
Where his triumph begins it just as soon ends

'As his servant you toiled, content in your place
From the loftiest perch did you still think to pray
Reaching up to the stars for divinity's grace
With a soul so inclined may it visit and stay

'But behold your proud master, once loved and admired
Unassailable but from the law's mighty arm
His presumptuous reign has this moment expired
And his legacy won't be of beauty but harm

'Against one's own fellows gain is not absolute
But with God to oneself is it truly secure
And the stem of your master had down at its root
The life of another who he left sad and poor!'

In a blink she returned to her former abode
Which she had the full run of, her betters now gone
But its charm was so spoiled by what her servant showed
That she packed her belongings and elsewhere moved on

Sunday, October 20, 2019

No More Earth Birthdays

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