To you, 2010.
- The past is yours with all its digital replenishments, and embellishments,
- and the future is for the people who will read about us later and say, “What hogwash!”.
-
- To 2010, o' year of instant calamity. You hit us with everything you've got.
- And it's still not enough. Quite done with you. So there.
- Here's your poem 2010, and off with you!
Dedicated to all the sentient beings who lost lives
senselessly and without compassion this year:
Humans, animals, plants, cells.
May we transform our relationships.
- O' 2010, “O'!”
-
- In numbers alone you came.
- We measured you by the grain.
- Another year, you were so profane.
- O' 2010!
-
- For the news, communication, conversation.
- To the media, that drives sensation.
- To my newest app and moral conflagration.
- Here's to you!
-
- Your numbers managed sickness and sleight of hand,
- and the joys for many, were like quicksand.
- Though the true people are still here to stand.
- And wave you gone.
-
- From the murder, theft, snark, and ballyhoo,
- to the latest snuff news, we're stuck like glue.
- I have to text it now or else you know I'm through!
- O' what a lie.
-
- You sold it over and over, with no reaction.
- A shudder, loud word, or human traction.
- Everyone just stood absorbed in maniaction.
- Yes, you're a joke.
-
- Counting friends, family, people, the sick, and the dead,
- and our living being friends, most filled with dread.
- Can you call yourself human instead?
- No? I say, “Next please.”.
-
- To the politicians who dashed our hopes,
- as some power climbed the velvet rope.
- “We're down here waiting!”--- But they said “Nope.”.
- And so it goes.
-
- To my loved ones in America, who also went,
- through this year, which we all know, was quite bent.
- Knowing people in other places, are all quite spent.
- From all the laughter.
-
- To this country, that made us wait.
- And to the people, some filled with hate.
- Now all that good “light”, is going to have to wait.
- For 2011.
-
- Writers will write about how you've grown,
- from a wee baby to an old, dead bone.
- And now the dustbin's from where you'll phone,
- "O' 2010!".
-
- Hope you make peace there my little friend,
- because your reign here's about to end.
- A hurried exit? No, it's just a trend.
- Just like you.
-
- The miracles came and surely shined,
- and hit me upside, to make up my mind.
- That positive is the only thought, that isn't blind.
- To what you showed me.
-
- I want to thank you, O' teacher great.
- For delivering us, with heaps of fate.
- To energetically, know just what's on our plate.
- In days ahead.
-
- So as you go dear, please shut the door,
- I have some things to do, you filthy snore.
- 'Til we read our history: “The days of yore”.
- You were a yawn.
-
- O', 2010, you won't be missed,
- I have had plenty of time to have you dissed.
- You're now a figment upon my fist.
- O', thank heavens!
-