East of the Equator on 1° 15' tropics is an old pirate isle
Irate *****-wavers are set to meet, I repeat, on Santosha
where, if you know it by its sanskrit, they might reconcile
Wishful leaders play symbolic. To us are none, but frenzy frolic.

Rudy doubles a pretty sight when smart cookie crumbles
to his knees.  The apprentice,  a fake gansta has capitulated to
Trump who's  known to expostulate his lot of twitterati
oh, the wizard of sentences,  cut the circuit and paparazzi.

Rocket man says read my lips, so Dotard threatens bigger drips
Both gaga over trigger hands, like-a-****** on hot dozen buttons.
Ain’t it a saga, they goatherd each other on,  so call in Dennis to
get us out of the funk. Just maybe, a remote chance, a fun slam-dunk!

The world awaits with bated breath, the immovable anchors to a
bad romance. We're stuck for answers to translate two gyrate minds,
singing hits a-capella under nuke umbrella.  No tanning spray and
pray please or death-from-behind us all, the wrench of humankind.

At 34, Prince has just begun life, to see his people starving to die
At 71, ****** has a life doing what he does,  while waiting to die  
Chasms miles long, but cookie cutter share tall man phantasm
94 stories high towards disarming God in their own ego suites.

Gurkhas and gazetted city blocks, the people in uttered groans
All twitterpating over a hermit throne dancing to a jailhouse rock
Two bright like buttons, so zero sum bargains may cost an arm and
an earth - nuclear glutton! Not a far gains from your usual Target?

At St Regis in gather,  string theories of riddles to Lord of the Rings
Towkays at the table “Order! Order!” no one absquatulates at all borders
In shambhala, will it be “Big and Bold” or “Beg and Hold”, who knows
Except Goldenhair, in first minute - Upside or Upset of an F1 ride!

Of the 364 un-birthdays, best occupied by your craziest , unthoughtful and refillable teaports, who rather like to celebrate year round with you, though uninvited, it would be wise you decline hosting the party too.

"Well, why not? What's wrong with a Thinking party everyday?" 
 
I hear you asking.  Is what they do best by default afterall -- one is naturally invited whether one likes it or not.  

My reply would be "Mad Unthinking does not a party make!"  

Unless you like going on hater shooting rampage.  Otherwise, battling the twinkle little tea trays hovering in your delusional sky is rather, shall I say, a pointless endeavor.  Far better you meditate on that.

Luckily too, the only day they wont be celebrating is that one day on your special birth date.   Since it's the single time of year you're more than likeliest the happiest by design, among friends and families!  

But why just limit it to a day in the entire calendar year?   You should "happily uncelebrate bad-everything " or "celebrate happily good-nothing" for the 364 days in your mind.  And all should be well.  

Just remember, lift the tall hat and check under the hood, you may discover mad party always get you plenty of room.   But they merely recycle as a visage.  Chances are, you'd love to gate-crash and bring your best butter and bread knife to spread it all over time.  There's no "while" as they "mean", so to speak.   Especially when you are hangry and you had "nothing" yet, taking less is far healthier than filling up a buffet of nutrionless bad food.    Like clouds in the sky, let them go.

About that Raven too.  They are just cryptic messenger going backward and forward with unintelligible riddles that will spin your too clever head to a nevar resting point.  The codename is analysis paralysis.  

Akin to a kite in the sky, you can break the thread.  

Otherwise, you may end up like Alice to steal time, beat time, pass time and may get lost in a treacle well with much surgarcoating and sentimentality. Only to wake up 2 hrs later than you should have, to reality around you.  

So let it be known, and shed light into, the unknown parts of the 364 unbirthdays.  If you manage to go out, have some social bake and cake among humans now and then, you'll soon forget to uncelebrate them and lose all the over-muchness anyway.  

That's my wish for you !

The path from Tauts-to-talks
are paved with food intentions
Four -piece meal for peace has
nothing to see here, you scab
Chilli crab - ain't your usual crap
are good gut check with no mishap
Bourbon and Sujo cocktail blend
beats sermon anytime, we'll show you
Summitwich - both sides have agreed
on buttermilk chicken and kimchi
Don you miss it, is Un-believable!
gimmickers seal it with their kisses
oh, and don't forget from the host too
Pandan cake to pudding on the table
no details are too minutiae, they're able
those circling the summit must march
to disarm the hunger and overcome pride
of King-me Dotard and Lil'Rocket Man
Now that's plenty to deal with it, so get real.

The imprints of the leaves
Are wrinkled on my skin
Both sides of the wrists
When I awoke this morning
How it got there I know not
But pointed signs to note
The power to leave the old
Is entirely in my hands

Cawing crows' calling
They try to gather but fail
Attempted ******