Peppermint Mocha Litmas 2005Peppermint MochaPeppermint Mocha Litmas 20058 years ago in Poetry More Like This
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
Red and BlackChristmas 2005Red and Black8 years ago in Poetry More Like This
I tried to surf Alton Brown's eggnog
at the first holiday gathering of the season
with only ten shopping days left.
I hoped to effortlessly crest the softened peaks
and conquer Mt. Everest beneath the mistletoe.
Under the driving rush of too much bourbon,
it felt far more like the failure of the fellowship as
I realized that I will never learn to surf,
especially in winter.
My failure takes me back to my mother.
She is beautiful and three dimensional in my memory
filled with laughter, stories, and holiday spirits
(whiskey was the host's favorite.)
Somehow I can remember the subtle charm of her accent.
I can even replicate her inflection while delivering the punchline
to the perfect icebreaking vignette (though I cannot remember
the beginning to use it tonight).
Those were the Christmases where she wore crimson sweaters
to match the lipstick that made her feel vibrant and alive.
Red lipstick had a forbidden allure. (Too bold for her
lady-like mannerisms.) Evening allowed
A Lump of CoalHe crawled into my chimneyA Lump of Coal8 years ago in Poetry More Like This
And stuck onto the brick
He cried out for help
As I slept in my bed.
I sleepily stumbled
I tripped over my slippers
My head cracked on the hearth
And soot fell into my eyes.
Rubbing my eyelids
I looked up at the man
What are you doing?
I asked the fat guy.
He jiggled and coughed
He tried to say something
It might've been hot horn of a whore,
Or maybe just Ho ho ho.
I repeated my question
I'm Santa, my son,
I've a present for you!
I skeptically stared
At the fat man in red
The legend of Santa said
I'd had to be good.
I shook my head
And soot fell from my hair
I laughed and I said,
I've been bad all year round.
He snorted and jiggled
He tried to say something
It might've been stupid ignorant fool
Or maybe just, HoHo, I know.
Something dropped on my head
I fell to the floor and passed out like a drunk
When I woke my head pounded
A lump of coal in my hand.
I stared up in wonder
The fat guy was gone
Though a scrap of red velvet
Clung to the wall.
The "Psychic Santa"Nadine CorreaThe "Psychic Santa"8 years ago in Prose More Like This
-::- InuAngel788 -::-
The "Psychic Santa"
There was a room on the second floor of a two-story house somewhere down in the suburbs where the streets are named after the tree that once stood there. And in this room, a young boy of 4 slept. His mother had just finished tucking him into bed and left the moon-bathed room to meet her husband out in the hall.
"Anything?" He asked curiously.
"Nope." She replied. She sighed and let her head drop backwards to rest against the wall. "I don't know how to ge
warmthwarmth8 years ago in Poetry More Like This
sweetheart, forgive me
for what you must see
but that gentle yellow light
from within that house bright
shining out of window small
is not for us, not free for all
that single, charming, loaf of bread
is not for us, but for them instead
please understand, my sweetheart, dear
there's nothing out in this dark to fear
only hurting heads and tummies that ache
chewing on snow and all in its wake
pretending- choice roast, leg of ham
potato with gravy, undercooked lamb
melted chocolate, gooey and sweet
assorted lollies, melting in the heat
but now my baby, we can't have that
you have to be skinny, you can't be fat
that's why you can't eat on this blessed eve
that's why i say you can't believe
it's foolish and childish and not at all wise
to trust a murderer in a red suited guise
santa is there to trick and dash
hopes, dreams, claw and scratch
tatters, shreds, throw them away
they don't help keep hunger at bay
now sweetheart, don't press your face to the glass
you look too hopeful, they'll jus
Randolph the Redneck ReindeerRandolf the Redneck Reindeer,Randolph the Redneck Reindeer8 years ago in Poetry More Like This
Had a non-alcoholic beer.
And if you ever saw him,
You would say "he's queer."
All of the other Rednecks,
Used to laugh & call him gay.
They'd never let poor Randolph,
Go mud dogging with them anyway.
Then one foggy Christmas Eve,
Bocephus came to say.
"Randolph, come and try this here Bud Light,
And won't you come see my show tonight?"
Oh how the Rednecks loved him,
Cause he hung out with Hank Jr. and all.
Randolf the Redneck Reindeer
Feels more comfortable when he "Yee Haws"!