RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): The Unvaccinated Bastards (COVID MEMORIES)

The Unvaccinated Bastards (COVID MEMORIES)

Flaunt your Trumpian civil liberation palaver

A PLOT

Against civil liberties

And your welcome may be a painful death

Of course, after you infect those who don’t believe in your party line

You low life selfish swine

Interfering with my own libertarian line of freedom of association

Kill your parents and grandparents

As thousands gasp for life in emergency army tents

YOU let the virus mutate

Isn’t that GREAT?

In Hell you’ll bake

For killing more than your selfish self

Isn’t it great to be stupid and ignorant

So go to the patio and swill down a beer and enjoy your “freedom”

Hoping for attendance at your funeral and those who you have murdered

Bravo for your ideals

Which we will celebrate at your grave

You call a mask a muzzle

Society will call you a puzzle

But you are dead and gone

Perhaps mentioned in bitterness in some pop song?

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): POLITICIANS Do I Need Your Permission to Piss? (COVID MEMORIES)

POLITICIANS Do I Need Your Permission to Piss? (COVID MEMORIES)

You scold us politico hypocrites for gathering as humans

Then you threaten to fine us

We don’t follow your undemocratic orders all under the guise of emergency orders for the public interest

The interest that you fucked up knowing full well the warnings of SARS and recommendations made

No surprise as you also ignored countless warnings about the morass of long-term care

Perhaps your edicts have wisdom

But why edicts in the first place

Because you had the chance as politicians to avoid all these suspensions of liberties

And we had to pay the price for your historical incompetence

And listen to the sickening toady media urging

24/7 about untested vaccinations as the saviour of the world

The Fifth Estate with the integrity of a turd

Supposedly “informing us” as a herd

Ruminating on this on a walk in a public trail I confess it’s time to piss

But you’ve locked all public washrooms for public safety

So where do I go?

Should I urinate in my pants

And you go on a victory dance?

Robert K. Stephen

RKS French Literature: Parisians Accustomed to Public Torture and Hangings (Victor Hugo)

There was then no Gazette des Tribunaux; and as hardly a week passed in which there was not some counterfeiter to boil, some witch to hang, or some heretic to burn, at some of the numberless justices of Paris. People were so much accustomed to see at every crossway the ancient feudal Themis, bare armed, with sleeves turned up, doing her work at the gibbets, the whipping posts and pillories, that they hardly paid any heed to it. The aristocracy of that day scarcely knew the name of the victim that passed by at the corner of the street; and at most, it was only the populace that regaled itself with such coarse fare. An execution was a common incident in the public highways, like the baker’s braising pan or the butcher’s slaughter house. The executioner was but a sort of butcher of a little deeper dye than the rest.

Victor Hugo, “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”

RKS French Literature: Hanging Justice (Victor Hugo)

Justice in those days cared little about clearness and precision in the proceedings against a criminal. Provided only that the accused was hung, that was all that was necessary.

Victor Hugo, “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): CLEARING A PEE PATH

CLEARING A PEE PATH

No, I am not mistakenly referring to the rock n roll song “Shaking All Over”

But after 60 cms of snow with drifts to enormous I have to wade waist deep out my front door

It is shovel MORE MORE

Poor doggie Dylan’s back door and occasional pee path is blocked by a huge drift

Both he and I are miffed

But what can you do with Mother Nature’s big dump

Just get out that shovel and grunt hoping the next day your muscles won’t backtalk and be a grump

Out shovelling at 02:00

And still at 5 the snow grew

I must go out yet again and shovel a pee path at the back door

Because if I don’t man’s best friend might pee on the indoor floor

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds):MY LIFE AS A HOOKER AND ELECTION TIME IN CANADA

MY LIFE AS A HOOKER AND ELECTION TIME IN CANADA

Playing golf this year I am hooking the ball to the left

I query out loud why am I hooking?

Drawing guffaws from my fellow hookers

And has caused me to think about the upcoming Canadian federal election

A cause of a plethora of media frenzied erections

As all politicians state it is time for societal corrections!

But obviously politicians are not the hookers

But they try and bribe the electorate to enter their door marked by a red light just like in Amsterdam

Giving away the body and flesh of a bankrupt Canada

Through billion dollar promises

Never delivered upon

You ordinarily pay a hooker

But this time the hooker politicians are trying to pay you to visit their deceptive dream

Robert K. Stephen

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: TIME TO SAY AU REVOIR AND ASK WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

TIME TO SAY AU REVOIR AND ASK WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

Bob and Fay are just a bit worried about me after a few weeks back in Toronto thinking I am moping about and lacking enthusiasm for the activities and interests I had before my abduction.

Let’s face it with the excitement and tension flung my way attacking chew toys and stuffed playthings seem so juvenile.

After travelling to exotic destinations, living the life of extreme luxury, my celebrity status, murder, extortion, terrorism, international intrigue, chicken congee and Singaporean chicken walks in the park and eating crunchy chicken kibble ain’t what they used to be.

But given the upcoming Canada China Friendship Tour, an invitation from Canadian Prime Minister Thomas Bankboy to watch the Grey Cup game with him and the upcoming movie about my life produced by Nicole Kidman entitled “From Hostage to Hero” I am not destined to wallow in the quagmire of boredom.

With my new best friend Raffles and my solid friendship in the hood like Mookie, Billy, Jasper, Hattie, Emma, Lulu and Lady I will be just fine.

You know I always have Dylan the Westie and Reggie the Egyptian Rescue Dog to emulate. Bob has said several times that I am destined for greatness and of course I will be sharing my future adventures with you all.

It is only Au Revoir until we meet again.

A heartfelt snouting to you all! Good-bye to my Puppydom!

RORY DYLAN STEPHEN

“Lost in Puppydom: Rory Dylan Stephen’s Puppydom”: WHO EXACTLY IS RAFFLES?

WHO EXACTLY IS RAFFLES?

We adopted Raffles, a West Highland Terrier…I think. He may be a mixie but he is mostly Westie in look and attitude.

I first met him in Singapore at the Singapore Westie of the Year contest. He should have won that contest, but Bobby Fong Jr. had given me a “competitive edge” by having Raffles injected with steroids “on the sly” and “unfortunately” was disqualified after a blood test to ensure the top 5 Westies were “clean”. As runner up I won the title.

I met him subsequently a few times at the luxury hotel Raffles Singapore where he was “employed” as a greeter and a rat and rodent hunter of the kitchens of Raffles Singapore. I had the pleasure of ratting with him twice and we struck gold once by hitting up a couple of big fat Norway rats behind a bag of Durians! Those peppercorns on your hotel steak my not be peppercorns if you know what I mean.

Raffles was an “employee” of Raffles Singapore obviously exploited as he received no wages. Bangladeshi guest workers were paid so why not Raffles? A Singaporean slave?

He slept in a room off the kitchen.

He had a boss, whoever the doorman on duty was.

As far as scant collective hotel management memory is concerned, Raffles was found “several years ago” in a back alley of the hotel dazed and bleeding. A dishwasher at the hotel, a former opium addict and veterinarian took Raffles under his wing and nursed him back to health. The poor kitchen worker was gunned down outside the hotel in a huge gum smuggling deal gone sour and poor Raffles, thought to be 4 years old or so was adopted “by the hotel” and put to work as a greeter and later a rat and rodent hunter.

As a greeter Raffles would bound up to arriving guests, wag his tail and give a gentle welcoming bark. Occasionally his welcoming antics were not appreciated so he learnt well how to “read” guests to detect fear and apprehension as not all loved dogs. Occasionally a naughty sprog would yank his tail but Raffles would never bite.

You may recall the Sultan of Palumbia arriving at Raffles Singapore in great self-inflicted pomp and circumstance kicked and insulted poor Raffles who retaliated with a “warning nip” on the Sultan’s ankle who retaliated by threatening to execute him unless he was permanently removed from the hotel and so Bob and Fay with a bark of assent on my part adopted Raffles on the spot.

Our “friends” in the Singaporean government provided us in short order with “proper travelling” documentation that would permit him to travel both to China and Canada.

So here is in Toronto, Canada now with us.

He is a big brother for me but I must be in charge to acclimatize him to Canada. A pleasure.

As the expression goes, we are “partners in crime” without being criminals.

RKS French Literature: The Archdeacon Reveals His Mad Passion for Esmeralda the Beautiful Gypsy (Victor Hugo)

Oh! to love a woman – to be a priest – to be hated – to love her with all the fury of your soul – to feel that you would give for the least of her smiles your blood, your vitals, your reputation, your salvation, immortality and eternity and the other – to regret that you are not a king, a genius, an emperor, an archangel. God, that you might place a greater slave beneath her feet – to clasp her day and night in your dreams, in your thoughts and to see her in love with the trappings of a soldier and have nothing for her but a priest’s dirty cassock, which will terrify and disgust her.

Victor Hugo, “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”

RKS French Literature: The Pillory to the Tavern then the Gallows (Victor Hugo)

‘Jehan, you are on a very slippery, downward path; know wither you are going?’

‘To the tavern,’ said Jehan.

‘The tavern leads to the pillory.’

‘Tis a lantern like any other, and ‘twas perhaps the one with which Diogenes found his man.’

‘The gallows is a balance which has a man at one end and the whole world at the other. ’Tis fine to be the man.’

‘The gallows lead to hell.’

‘That’s a rousing fire.’

‘Jehan. Jehan! The end will be bad.’

‘ ‘Twill have had a good beginning.’

Victor Hugo, “The Hunchback of Notre-Dame”