For any head beneath the crown,
Any hair which the scalp has graced,
Was placed upon there by the Almighty
To give right & honor their divinity
As our King of England, His Majesty.

Long may He reign.

For health & in praise,
We honor our royalty & nobility
And recognize their sovereignty
With zeal & in haste,
We bend the knee happily.

For the success of our kingdom & country,
Who else may we thank?

For our rights & our liberties,
Who else guarantees?

Grateful are we, who share in this hymn,
To have been blessed by the Lord above
For such righteous leadership
And clear-headed soberness.
In the face of our adversaries,
Your strength has never wavered
And your acumen has never wandered.
You have remained ever stalwart,
Always earnest & virtuous.

God-chosen & proven self-evident;
May the sun never set
On you who are worthy.

Long may He reign.

Fall on your own sword;
If you must die
Do it on a hill
On which you shall be revived.
From where at its summit & base
A well should spring
Of water which you may both wade,
Clean enough to be drank.

By both, either side,

Whether Abrahamic or Pagan
Both religious & spiritual.
By whatever side walked
Around the waterhole,
No matter the kind of animal.
Any coast situated near the ocean,
Any forest covered with trees,
Any open & vacant clearing.

In I came to Dublin town,
Riding one fine morning,
I spied some Johnny Bullies
And I started off a'cussing!

Leave my home,
Go on get out.
Leave the whiskey,
Leave the grub.
Tell the king
To go *******
And stay in his doe-hog hovel.

O'er glens of An Cabhán
There flew a rag of red,
I tore it off from where it hung
And ripped it all to shreds!

Leave my house,
You're unwelcome.
Leave the rope & iron.
Tell the king
To go *******,
Lest he would rather violence.

In Londonderry & Belfast,
Pleasant little branches,
We'll grow ourselves gigantic oaks
Uproot their picket fences!

Leave my home,
Go on get out.
Leave the whiskey,
Leave the grub.
Tell the king
To go *******
And stay in his doe-hog hovel.

Say the hounds are all but slept,
Yet I still hear the barking.
I think it restful pouting
Readying for a real good bouting!

Leave my house,
You're unwelcome.
Leave the rope & iron.
Tell the king
To go *******,
Lest he would rather violence.

Hard to find good honest work,
When of royal or noble;
Hard to find good honest work
If they claim you're not loyal!

Leave my home,
Go on get out.
Leave my house,
You're unwelcome.
Tell the king
To go *******,
And kindly don't respond.

Itself made evident
By the very discourse & action
In which sees your engagement.
Others around you protest,
But they are written off
Just as wrong, as haters.

There is nothing
So much as struck lightning
Or the entirety of the Earth shaking
Which could wake you from your rest,
Unpeel your eyes, of
The curtains drawn by slumber.

Whatever such natural event;
The magma already cooled,
The fault line already cracked,
The water has already receded.

It already happened.

You went exploring down a river
And ended up stuck on an island,
The boat's left adrift
And you can't remember how to swim.

Where have you gone?
Where are you?
Where have you been?

Mencius, what is that they're doing?

Zhǐ! Another immortal walked from the sea;
Leaf & cordage finely chopped,
Throughly masticated & combined,
Left to the air to then reside
And collected after dried.
How most strange & curious!

You say the nobility call this parchment,
But for humor as irony
And because of the sound made
During the process of hammering,
The craftsmen call it paper?
And, like with tattoos,
They use pastes & fluids like dyes & resins
To stain drawings, shapes, and characters?

The lesser the weight of tablets,
Well-traveled with, easily read & clearly,
Markable with ease; readily inviting change
After change, reflecting our fragileness & resilience, offering record of our thoughts & accomplishments, a chance for the more prolific scribe and the library diverser & denser?

How wonderous a creation,
How gifted the craftsmen,
How genius the inventors.


Wow. That was so long ago
Before I was born.
But then compared to much else,
This fledgling has yet to have flown
From the small enclaves it nests as home.

It's really easy to write
Like you're for the hardline right
And far-flung conspiracies.
Easy to address as a member of the left
Like you believe in extreme liberalism
And wild ideas.
And then there's a center,
Or so I've heard.
For the intellectual or versus,
For the institution or against;
For the fascist,
For the anarchic.

It's all so archaic.

If you have come to seek
Only consent & acceptance,
You will be poorly received
And denied at the entrance.
You come only to take
What you think you are entitled to,
As though it were not valuable
And as if it were freely offered.
In what you ask
There is no promise of reciprocation,
No hint that you will be grateful.
In your hunger for it,
The only guarantee
Is that you will want more.
You share no contentment,
No happy acts or jovial gestures.
The best thing for all of us
Is to deny you of our goodwill,
Perhaps it will cause you
To grow up
And be more mature.
If not,
It will at least mean the stability & security
Of our happiness & freedom.