All I Want For ChristmasAll I Want For Christmas10 years ago in Poetry
Oh, all I want for Christmas is a smaller set of breasts:
Forget about the candy canes, the eggnog and the rest.
Hey Santa, if you're listening then let me really stress,
I mean it when I say I need to 'get this off my chest'!!!
I 'member how I used to play in mother's cast-off clothes;
The evening dress, the high heels and the baggy pantyhose.
I'd stuff my top with kleenex 'til the bodice hit my nose:
Gee, whoda thunk I'd end up with a pair bigger than those?!?!?!
When older, I tried basketball but I'd just end up sore.
I'd bounce the ball across the court but both my breasts bounced more!
And golf was just a waste of time-I seldom had a score:
My boobs just checked my swing before I even could yell 'Fore!'
Now, I can hear you laughing but you really have no clue,
Just what it's like to jump rope and end up all black and blue!
I'd wear the tightest bra I could, but what's a girl to do?
No matter how I'd bind 'em they just grew and grew and GREW.
Yes, Dolly with her triple D's does rea
Christmas-timeNow colored lights throw vibrant spritesChristmas-time10 years ago in Poetry
In arcs around the trees
The burning wicks of candlesticks
Bow low before the breeze
The powdered snow and mistletoe
Contribute to the cheer:
And young and old don't mind the cold
For Christmas-time is near.
Now stockings grace the fireplace
And children wait with glee
For soon, they know, the space below
Their decorated tree
Will fill with stuff – oh, soon enough
Their presents will appear –
For by the laws of Santa Claus,
Their Christmas-time is near.
Now eggnog flows, and winter blows
Its fury o'er the hills
We warm our hands and dream of lands
Outside the windowsills.
The sound of bells approaching tells
The news in voices clear:
November's done – the cold's begun –
And Christmas-time is near.
The children sleep. Outside, the deep
And windswept banks of snow
Accumulate beside the gate.
The frozen rivers flow.
I hold you tight. The candlelight
Is in your eyes, my dear –
And you and I, we softly sigh
For Christmas-time is here!
Her Broken WingYou never saw a girl hold quite so much beautyHer Broken Wing10 years ago in Poetry
But looking pretty has always been her duty
She never deserved such life of cruelty.
Almost angelic, her dress a dark shade of white
There's something about her that isn't quite right
Un-noticed in all but a certain light.
The expression on her porcelain face, pale as a corpse...
The disturbing looks of anguish, pain and remorse
The face of a young woman aged by force.
Sadness curling the corners of her lips
She moves in the same way an old record skips
And she's at the mercy of my fingertips.
You can't giftwrap a kiss but she'll try her best
A drop of blood runs down the sleeve of her dress
Her left wing is torn, and her dreams nothing less.
Where blood once coloured her cheeks like peaches
Tears run down them now, polluting her features
She longs to be airborne like the other winged creatures.
Her aching heart still b
Peppermint Mocha Litmas 2005Peppermint MochaPeppermint Mocha Litmas 200510 years ago in Poetry
Standing outside of Starbucks
Sipping my Peppermint Mocha
Scarf tightly bundled around my neck
Carrying their candied-coloured shopping bags
Of Christmas gifts to be
For their loved ones
Blending with the busy sounds
Of traffic -
Cars driving by
The cold breeze
Brush at my cheeks
Sensations leaving my face flush-red
Like the colour of the Starbucks cup
Glitters of snowflakes descending
Upon the winter afternoon sun
The sweetness of chocolate
And the cool taste of peppermint
With only the coffee keeping me warm
I take another sip
The snow falls harder
Whitening the sunny skies
All Bundled up
And I slowly begin to walk
Reflections of people in shop windows
Busily passing by
Talking on cellphones
Humans being consumers
Allowing me to smile -
Finally consuming my
In the last sip
Of my favourite mocha
During my favourite time of the year
Breeze is blowing
On me again -
No Peppermint Mocha to keep me warm
Steady stream of pe
Crossing the MountainCrossing the Mountain10 years ago in Poetry
How temporary this bittersweet calm inside,
before the reign of children broken and sore
and stepping over cloth laid out to catch mud
breaks clarion over solitude shrinking and blue.
They've crossed the mountain to join the fun,
run gay banter through air once still, and still
the afternoon is not yet settled in this mood
and a multitude of clothing is unbuttoned.
Setting a bell jar on my family while we eat,
early places set for little hearts warm-blooded
as oxen, and wolves run in the fallen white,
we jovial lovers joined in merriment and stones.
Steal me a heart, or a yellow-gold glory, now
blowing and cursing again this earthy snow
despondent as hands clasped in sorrowful looks
and yearning as a bishop caught in looking.
Jump inside the borrowed warmth denied,
beside the lamp set shady over blankets over
knees, over eyes of a daughter curled, lids
folding with day's passing into the album.
And a brother, gauzy and sleepless with it,
mindful of a future he has seen in the starlight
MemoriesYou hold the knife to your wrist,Memories10 years ago in Poetry
Has it really come to this?
You heart is full of pain,
Butdoes this mean the joy you felt was all in vain?
You tell yourself it's something you must do,
What about all the people who love you?
You're sure to the it was just a game,
But immediatly you're filled with shame,
With a quick motion, you slice your wrist,
No more pain, no more bliss,
As the blood seeps through the cracks,
Your head fills with memories of the past,
Some good, some bad,
But all of the life you had,
The way how every Christmas,
Your dad would dress as Santa and hand out presents,
And every summer your siblings would go away,
And gave you and your parents time to play,
Or the way when your family went out to eat,
Everyone was so upbeat,
Laughing and joking,
Your dad even singing occasionaly,
Then there were the times you were so horrible,
It's a wonder the didn't throw you out the door,
And then, the day your mom moved out,
Or the pain you felt when you found out what it was about