yggdrasil and asgard?

Ash tree and mountain clouds anyway, a few hours after a heavy thunder, lightning, rain and hail storm cleared the air.

Victoria’s Secret Show Naughty Poem

The annual Victoria’s Secret’s show was like eating a beautiful cake, knowing there’s a lot of bad ingredients, but some things are worth the cost. That probably doesn’t count for the planet, but there’s so much else that is destroying it, that it is just one little beautiful human island in an ocean of overpopulation and consumption that nobody’s really doing much about on a scale that will prevent anything as far as most scientists have been predicting for decades.

Risking My Reputation for Beautiful Blondes 

Congratulations to the blondes who’ve survived the Multicultural Fascist with-hunt! If in line with Darwin’s theory of evolution of the strongest surviving, then only the most beautiful blondes would have made it to the catwalk.

As probably the leading doctor of philosophy expert in beautiful blondes, working diligently for five years to attain the award; openly out of the Victoria’s Secret lingerie closet anyway! (a joke I made about coming out of the closet years ago!!); I don’t think Darwin’s theory was disproved.

I am now also the first lesbiman (creating that word out of what was before lesbian man). That doesn’t mean I want to wear Victoria’s Secret lingerie, but does mean I’d like to be invited to one of their pyjama parties! Not expecting though!!!

This is a fitting remembrance Sunday poem according to the democratic tradition, as they say the wars were fought for these freedoms, as I saw somebody say on the news this morning that the attack on the Charlie Hebdo office in Paris had inspired more appreciation in France since then.

Human Beauty Secret Guilty, Distraction from Njörðr Horror

slim female blondes
are my gods
in human form
sun of storm
shining light
worth the fight

to live on, our dying planet

watch it corrode
destruction code
waves carry waste
fishy bad taste
we kill life
plastic pollution knife

Njörðr is/was a Norse sea god.

I wrote this during the Remembrance Sunday commemorations. It’s what my muse directed me to write, without planning. I still remembered the brave war dead, but don’t think I can ever better my previous poem posted on this site: The Whistle Cried Heavy.

The only correction I made to the whole post was changing the penultimate line of the poem from ‘you kill life’ to ‘we kill life’, taking responsibility for what I do, knowing I’m far from perfect!