God has created the world and all living beings
To live in peace and harmony, health and joy sure
Alas, by his own wrong ways and means against nature
He gets into trouble and suffers a hell very pure!
Of the many taking toll in thousands over the globe
One is HIV warranting WORLD AIDS DAY today!
The world over, millions suffer –do not know!
Young or old, lettered or unlettered of either sex
Fall a victim many a time reasons beyond control
Ending aids not a dream- reality ahead
Make the people aware and beware of causes!
Health habits clean, ever conscious of good health
Remembering the old saying “Health is wealth”
Following basic rules of food, drink and exercises physical
All sure to help us without falling a prey- eternal!
World AIDS Day 2020 will be like no other.
COVID-19 is threatening the progress that the world has made in health and development over the past 20 years, including the gains we have made against HIV.
Like all epidemics, it is widening the inequalities that already existed.
Gender inequality, racial inequality, social and economic inequalities. We are becoming a more unequal world.
I am proud that over the past year the HIV movement has mobilized to defend our progress, to protect people living with HIV and other vulnerable groups and to push the coronavirus back.
Whether campaigning for multimonth dispensing of HIV treatment, organizing home deliveries of medicines or providing financial assistance, food and shelter to at-risk groups, HIV activists and affected communities have again shown they are the mainstay of the HIV response. I salute you!
It is the strength within communities, inspired by a shared responsibility to each other, that has contributed in great part to our victories over HIV.
Today, we need that strength more than ever to beat the colliding epidemics of HIV and COVID-19.
Friends, in responding to COVID-19, the world cannot make the same mistakes it made in the fight against HIV, when millions in developing countries died waiting for treatment.
Even today, more than 12 million people are still waiting to get on HIV treatment and 1.7 million people became infected with HIV in 2019 because they could not access essential services.
That is why UNAIDS has been a leading advocate for a People’s Vaccine against the coronavirus.
Global problems need global solidarity.
As the first COVID-19 vaccine candidates have proven effective and safe, there is hope that more will follow, but there are serious threats to ensuring equitable access. We are calling on companies to openly share their technology and know-how and to wave their intellectual property rights so that the world can produce the successful vaccines at the huge scale and speed required to protect everyone and so that we can get the global economy back on track.
Our goal of ending the AIDS epidemic was already off track before COVID-19. We must put people first to get the AIDS response back on track. We must end the social injustices that put people at risk of contracting HIV. And we must fight for the right to health. There is no excuse for governments to not invest fully for universal access to health. Barriers such as up-front user fees that lock people out of health must come down.
Women and girls must have their human rights fully respected, and the criminalization and marginalization of gay men, transgender people, sex workers and people who use drugs must stop.
As we approach the end of 2020, the world is in a dangerous place and the months ahead will not be easy.
Only global solidarity and shared responsibility will help us beat the coronavirus, end the AIDS epidemic and guarantee the right to health for all.
Executive Director of UNAIDS
Under-Secretary-General of the United Nations
At Allison’s Written Words, it’s beginning to look a lot like Music Monday…the Christmas edition!
Or is it “at Music Monday, it’s beginning to look alot like Christmas?”
Oh, we’ll just run with both, because that’s how we do it around here.
And speaking of how we do it around here…
Now, you’re probably thinking “why doesn’t she choose a ‘nicer’ photo of Michael Buble,” and well, this one made me laugh. It’s not Christmasy, but it is a picture of the subject of today’s article, in his natural habitat, doing what he does best – crooning and making ladies swoon. I took it in July 2014 when I saw Michael Buble in concert, from the nosebleeds at Atlantic City’s Jim Whelan Boardwalk Hall. This isn’t the furthest I’ve ever sat from the stage – both Bon Jovi concerts I’ve been to (2001 at the former Giants Stadium, and 2003 at the Wells Fargo Center – at the time First Union Center) were in the absolute last row of the top section. I also saw my first Broadway show (Movin’ Out, 2004) from the absolute last row of the top section of the Richard Rogers Theater.
Since I seem to only run for lower level seats at concerts these days, you’d think I was snobby about where I sit. I only became that way after I saw Michael Buble, but all the concerts I’ve been to since 2014 were at much smaller (by comparison) venues. Still large, but not nearly as large as Boardwalk Hall, which was home to our local arena football team last year, and a hockey team years earlier. And once you’ve sat five rows directly in front of Daryl Hall, well, the nosebleeds aren’t as fun.
They’re kind of dizzying, actually.
But enough about choice seating and if you’re not careful, you’ll take a header in Boardwalk Hall’s nosebleed section (steep stairs are the struggle, friends). It’s the holiday season, and kicking off the holiday season right means picking a song for Music Monday that sets the standard for the remainder of the Music Mondays during the holiday season.
So, as I was saying…
“It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas” is a Christmas song written in 1951, and originally titled “It’s Beginning To Look Like Christmas.” Written by flutist, composer, conductor, musical arranger, bandleader, playwright, and author Robert Reiniger Meredith Willson (who went by Meredith Willson). The song makes reference to the Grand Hotel, as well as the “five and ten,” which. It is widely believed by those in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, Canada, that Willson wrote the song at the Grand Hotel (which still operates). However, it may be a reference to the Park Inn Hotel in Mason City, Iowa, Willson’s hometown. Both Grand Hotel and Park Inn Hotel still stand, which Grand Hotel in an updated building on the same property, and Park Inn Hotel being the last remaining structure built by Frank Lloyd Wright in the world.
All Christmas songs have a story, just this one is a little more mysterious about what the story actually was.
The song was originally released by Perry Como and The Fontane Sisters and Bing Crosby, both in 1951 (released several weeks apart in September and October of that year). The song has seen several covers, including a version by Johnny Mathis in 1986, that picked up steam in 1992 as part of Home Alone 2: Lost In New York‘s soundtrack. But for the purpose of this Music Monday, I’m going with the Michael Buble version, released on Buble’s 2011 album Christmas. Nothing against Como or Crosby, but you saw the picture of Michael Buble, so you knew where this was going.
The song kicks off Buble’s Christmas album, which I received as a Christmas present in 2011. I listen to this album in the same rotation that I reserve for my Chicago and All-4-One Christmas album. And don’t judge on the latter, I’ve had that album since I was 14 years old – All-4-One was as big a deal then to me as Chicago is now!
This is such a beautiful and perfect way to start off your Christmas album, don’t you think?
There’s really only two songs Christmas albums should ever start with – Nat King Cole’s “The Christmas Song” and this song. I have one compilation that has both of these back-to-back (albeit, this song is the Bing Crosby version, which was the one I grew up with), and we had a cassette when I was growing up (from Exxon) that started off with Nat King Cole.
There really is no other way. Fight me on it.
Michael Buble’s version of “It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas” was released on October 24, 2011, the second single released from this album (behind “All I Want For Christmas Is You,” because someone tried to wrestle this away from Mariah Carey). However, she’s no match – “It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas” was the more successful single, reaching #2 on the Billboard Hot Adult Contemporary Chart, #96 on the Billboard Hot 100, and #10 on Billboard’s Holiday 100. Christmas reached #1 on the Billboard 200 chart for a stay of 10 weeks that stretched into January 2012 (his most successful album as of January 2019), and has seen several re-releases in 2012 and 2019 with bonus tracks (something to look for!), as well as a bonus DVD with the Deluxe Edition. The original version was the second-best selling holiday album of 2012, behind Rod Stewart’s Merry Christmas, Baby.
My mom and I were really starting to get into Buble right around this time of this album’s release, and I gifted her with Crazy Love (pretty sure that’s our favorite Michael Buble album together – I know it is my favorite!) that same Christmas. It took a few years, and several more purchased albums, before we got to see Michael Buble, but it was worth the wait to see the guy we have referred to as “Jelly Legs” dance on stage. But he really is such a charismatic performer, and super cute to boot.
And I thought my screenshots were always appropriately timed. It wouldn’t (and won’t!) be the last time I capture those extra special concert moments. I’m hoping I’ll get to see this guy again at some point!
But the prettiest sight to see, is the Christmas treats I’m planning, on your Twitter and Facebook feeds!
Sure, it’s Christmas once more!
I’m just getting started, and until the next article, have a great Monday, and enjoy the Christmas music!
See more posts of the ‘Music Worlds Monday’ series on this blog: https://michelmontecrossaliveblog.wordpress.com/tag/music-worlds-monday/
The Power Of Christmas (by Michel Montecrossa); Genre: acoustic New-Topical-Song
A Whole World (by Mirakali); Genre: Dance-Electronica, EDM
Gang’s Dream Anthem (by Michel Montecrossa); Genre: Cyberrock
Michel Montecrossa’s Homepage: www.MichelMontecrossa.com
Michel Montecrossa on facebook: www.facebook.com/michel.montecrossa
Mirakali’s Homepage: www.Mirakali.net
Follow Mirakali Montecrossa on Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/mirakalimontecrossa
‘Structural Emotions’ – drawing by Michel Montecrossa
Enjoy the great ‘I Am There – Songs by Michel Montecrossa & Mirakali’ playlist
Photo by Mirakali – Mountains & Clouds
More songs and movies: www.MichelMontecrossa.com
Mirakali’s Homepage: www.Mirakali.net
Follow Mirakali Montecrossa on Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/mirakalimontecrossa
The Way Narcissists Lose Elections
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Búscame en el arroyo,
allí donde los ríos de lodo se llevaron todo.
Búscame en los despojos,
allí donde el viento le ganó la batalla al molino.
Búscame en el callejón,
allí donde te troqué por alquitrán en mi corazón.
Búscame despues de tí
tormenta sin frenesí,
búscame despues de tí
tonalidades de gris,
búscame despues de tí,
arcoiris de azufre y zinc.
Desastre natural sin tregua
proclamo en todo lo alto
un estado de emergencia!
Adiós al éxtasis,
tierra sin mimbreral.
Hiciste del altar
y de mis labios
– enterrado de pie –
Encima del alúd,
lee mi lápida:
por no saberte querer”.
Quien te quiere hoy, no es el de ayer.
Dejame leerte los labios mientras duermes,
buscando suspiros entre las sabanas sudadas,
arrepindiendome de volver, sin saber como huir…
La puerta está abierta, y pasa el aire,
estoy atrapada en mi jaula de marfil?
Quien quiere ver mas allá de su dolor,
y meter el dedo en la llaga,
como Santo Thomas el Apostol?
Ya no quiero mas.
No te quiero mas, no puedo contigo.
No me atrevo…
pero te veo.
Atrévete o vete… Pero me tengo que atrever para irme, asi que te ruego..
I learnt how to dance to the sound of underground fireworks,
legs, burnt boots and clenched jaws drop around me,
like grotesque confetti.
I’m carefree, in peace with my maker, as I wonder between poisonous ivy
and twitchy mines… Must keep low and under the barbed wire;
I use it as a clothes hanger.
Occasionally the fur of a clumsy mammal is left on it,
like a tibetan flag, like a hunters clothes line.
The best thing about the military exclusion zone, is how peaceful it is at night;
there are no planes flying over my sky to interrupt my star gazing right.
I dance between two lands; my light step heals the World,
I steal from one and give to the other.
I carry stories from the outside in, and vice versa.
I smuggle love letters from those that don’t forget.
Many tried to stop me, but they stand still
when they see Death’s head over yellow paint,
they stay well away…
Their military boots are like magnets to my jumpy friends,
even the ones made of clay…
So let me dance and dance,
I know one day I’ll grow too heavy,
and my feet will disturb those that kept me safe,
and then it will be my end,
and I’ll be one tiny bleep among the stars,
and my confetti will nourish the land.
Tales from the mind of Kristian: Zone
It’s a late summer evening in Cyprus. A daughter and mother sit alone in a hospital room. Mother sit’s on a plastic covered recliner while Daughter perches herself up in bed.
Mum, I don’t know why I did it.
I thought it would be fun.
Ok, this is as much as I can remember of the third night.
Yes, there were two nights prior. I don’t know, peer pressure I guess.
So the third night I got dressed,
I went for drinks, I met with one guy
yes just the one, for now.
We flirted heavily.
He asked me if I wanted to meet with his friends again, I said yes, why not.
We ended up being four people.
yes mum, three men and me.
I DON’T KNOW WHY MUM! Do you want me to tell you or not?
So the four of us went for drinks. We drank alot.
No, I can’t remember how many drinks I had.
No, I wasn’t drugged.
We went to my room, and we agreed that we would all have sex. Yes, the three men and me. Well, boys.
Well, they’re like 16 more or less.
I know that’s young!
Mum, I can’t do this if you keep interrupting me like this. It’s hard enough as it is.
We closed the door and we had sex. Please don’t make me tell you the details.
Well two at a time and one was waiting.
At some point, someone knocked, I was very drunk at the time.
And 9 more guys arrived.
I don’t know if all at the time. I was confused and distorted.
It all started to spiral. It all started to move really fast. I wanted to puke, and I wanted it to stop, I just didn’t know how to do it.
It was like being pounded by waves, submerged in the break water. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t get a moment to realise that things had gotten out of hand.
I just wanted it over, but they kept on coming, one after the other. It never ended.
I know I did wrong, I know I shouldn’t have put myself in that situation. I wanted to explore and I wanted to be liked, he’s a famous football player you know, in his country anyway.
I know it doesn’t matter what he does for a living!
But I just wanted to see what was going on with this, it seemed like a fun idea, when it was just the four of us. I never agreed to twelve! You have to believe me, Mum!
You can shout at me, and blame me, and tell me that I’m stupid, I don’t care, I know what I lived, and it’s been filmed for crying out loud! I never consented to that either!
Some years later, when Daughter could speak freely about this with her Mum she said this:
What I don’t understand is how their country men hailed them as heroes because the courts report stated they didn’t rape me, but no one bat an eye for the act itself! 12 boys fucked one girl. There’s nothing wrong with that? How sick are they? And I’m the whore? If I’m a whore, then they’re just as much to blame as me, regardless of the rape.
But let me be clear, I consented to three men, the rest I did not. And the moment they all came in the room, that was rape. From all.
Brood mood son,
it’s not what you do with your time, it’s how it’s perceived by the ones around you. Your time ain’t valuable, the appearance of work, costs more than working itself, because people pay you on their perception of you, and not on the result. You think I’m kidding, tell me what all those influencers have done, and why they’ve made the money they’ve made? It’s about the perception of work, rather than work itself.
So brood mood,
Let it go smooth,
I’m sailing away in my sloop,
waiting for the right kind of coup.
when walls fall,
and passports are pass-alls
and we cross borders
I’m in a dark place.
But when I think of this,
It give me some mental space.
I’m not gonna brood
lets leave that to the flocks,
I’m gonna rise to the struggle, and
take care of the days that become too long,
of the days that are just too short…
I’m not a big reader,
my Beard’s thick like a tome,
It’s like a mobile nest
tired birds with no home,
come for a little rest.
The leaves fall clean and crisp.
The Sun slips through and beams,
reflections bounce off the stream,
I love it when I can smell Spring
and here the birds in my beard sing.
a dwarf with a big dream:
To live in anarchy,
and swim above water,
and climb the canopy,
and mine under my river,
to be more than a gleam
– not just one of a team.
My eyes burn from within,
I find myself burning from within.
I try to breathe, but flames dry out my tongue and cripple my lungs,
like dry leaves.
My blood scalds a veiny path,
flames take over in wrath
-licking my skin into deformation.
These ashes remind me
we’re alone on this brittle earth,
we all burn by ourselves.
No matter how much you give,
despair burns in solitude,
like a drifting leaf downstream.
And when the rapids surge
and the flames have fuel anew,
with just our power to hold onto
-we’re as strong as the moment is due:
porcelain freefalling, dry woods in the summer,
or hapless bugs in quicksilver.
Fighting an inevitable tide,
one must as the question:
Why can’t we embrace the flames?
Let them burn away all the weight we carry,
let them blister our skin until white pearls glow in perfect absence.
I need not my flesh if my flames take it away from me.
I need nothing that can be turned into ashes.
I need of love, and love alone.
alas, alone in love is no love at all,
for love needs to reach a heart, as a flame needs the air it burns.
And my heart is long gone,
Replaced by a mine of coal.
It will shine bright, too bright if you’re too close.
But it’s reach is not infinite.
Too far a distance is a nightmare.
Long distance dims lights
and exacerbates darkness.
I don’t fear solitude more than I fear the air we breathe…
We’re living in isolation surrounded by a dream.
Mallet, the daily prompt.
And then there was none,
no silence, no noise, no time… Nothing.
He opened the door, unlocked the screen.
She opened her eyes, and saw him between her thighs,
– it takes longer to die when you wish it hard…
I looked into his eyes, but he gazed my pants, I pleaded with my face,
since my voice remained estranged,
He said ‘let go, I want to take them off!’
What was I to do, but to obey?
After all, wasn’t my father the one who said ‘listen to men, behave like a woman, and speak when spoken to…. or you won’t be getting any dessert.’
But what to do when men behave like men? What to do then?!
What would a man say?
‘Put that mallet to my head, I have no cure for this disease’
But that’s not what he said. He pulled me back, I remained silent,
He thrust inside of me, as I reached with the tip of my nails
– The wood, smooth and polished, elegantly sitting in my palm…. the weight, noticeable when I closed my fist around the handle… I looked into his eyes again and saw nothing but a beast… And as such, the beast must be put down; by any means.
– A mallet to the head will do just fine. Closed fist, one last glance… Nothing, no humanity left. I bring my fist of iron down on his head as loud and clean as such mess allows..
His blood tastes like sour cherries on a Sunday afternoon.
I need a lack of sleep
it makes everything seem like a dream.
My mind melts like ice cream
in the midsummers nights;
I’m fighting that good fight,
but it’s all over now –
caffeine’s got me up and down
where clocks are laced with TNT.
I’m following the rabbit hole…
No! Fuck that!
I’m carving it
with my nails and broken teeth.
But there’s no friction,
no sparks, no inhibition.
I want it to go
I want to want nothing but wantings gone.
It just seems impossible with all these ticks
and tocks, and gongs.
So hand me that bong for one more song.
And maybe just maybe, the sparks and cinders of this
left-to-dry revered weed
will ignite my TNT…
And maybe just maybe,
once the dust settles beneath my feet…
I can finally see what it means
to be just me.