By

James Bredin

Were you one of those virgins of the fifties on parade?

Moving past on a bicycle to the chapel where you prayed,

Was I the lad who watched you with that spellbound forlorn look?

As you moved past like an angel carrying a holy book.

But they were different times my friend, long before the pill,

This emigrant had to leave with other careers to fulfill,

Then the sixties, the seventies and the eighties came and went,

Though I often pondered what happened sometimes in torment.

Unfortunately, even virgins eventually grow old,

Time is slow but unrelenting even for beauties, I know,

I hate to tell you this but I feel you may have aged,

I don’t know, I’m still spellbound or was the fifties all staged?

Or was that so long ago and so far away that it doesn’t count?

Or are my memories getting the best of me to no small amount?

I’d like to go back just one more time to see and make sure,

If it really did happen because it’s becoming more obscure.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Taboo

By

James Bredin

Taboo was just his nickname – the tall hooded guy in ghetto style,

All the tail he could handle and he didn’t need much guile,

Had twenty four kids with unmarried mothers through many years,

Kids all had his last name and this was not considered weird.

He also increased their welfare cheques by no small amount,

Twenty four kids with Taboo’s last name for those who could count,

It was politically incorrect to even mention this fact,

Fatherless hidden ghetto subculture and how they interact.

The welfare workers of the ghetto all shook their long haired heads,

Mere multicultural observers for the province or the feds,

Counting Taboo’s kids and increasing their mothers’ welfare cheques,

Proudly pompously politically correct and complex.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

By

James Bredin

Spent two hours in a dental chair and what an awful task!

He murmured to his assistant through a white gauze face mask,

And she somewhere behind my head making noise with a machine,

Amid the screaming drill in my mouth and all this unseen.

Can’t shut down your brain or delete these dental joys,

As the curved hose in my mouth makes that awful snorting noise,

Looking at the white ceiling where there is nothing to see,

And still he drills and pokes and bends and oh for a cup of tea.

And you hope the freezing holds out and there must be a better way,

You could have rotten teeth, keep your mouth shut and be quiet all day,

And maybe, just maybe no one would know that you had rotten teeth,

No one would look down on you and pretend they were elite.

Monday, August 20, 2007

By

James Bredin

The poor refugee terrorist might be abused over there,

Our sanctimonious appointees always seem to care,

Not about Canadians who might be robbed and killed here,

But the international Charter of Rights for terrorists, I fear.

That and goody-two-shoe politicians with a hidden agenda,

Decisions delayed while we are forbidden referenda,

This allows the terrorists permission to wait and stop and stay,

Increase any criminal record and never go away.

These criminal terrorists in Canada seem to have it made,

They don’t get deported back to where they came from, I’m afraid,

They each get a pre removal risk assessment for threats to their life,

Maybe they get to stay on welfare without any strife.

That plus the twenty layers of appeals added to our apathy,

Years and schemes and dreams and legal-aid lawyers working happily,

As we the people complacently stand about and wonder why,

Complacent as slaughter house sheep as though nothing was awry.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

The Gay Pride Parade

By

James Bredin

I didn’t mind those fat tattooed dykes doing their gay pride parade,

As they jumped and danced half naked and not one bit afraid,

Did I miss some changes, somewhere, somehow along the way?

What happened to the good old days long before these displays?

It was those young lesbians on parade that tended to bother me,

What a waste of womanhood as they jumped around with glee!

Still, I must admit they were doing it peaceful enough,

They didn’t shoot or kill each other or any of that stuff.

What happened and when did they all come out of the closet?

And the next day, the gay guys made their annual parade deposit,

But as a keen old observer, I saw they had pride instead of shame

I can’t say it’s wrong or right but it was relatively tame.

Saturday, August 18, 2007