Christmas-timeNow colored lights throw vibrant sprites
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!
All I Want For ChristmasAll I Want For Christmas10 years ago in Poetry More Like This
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
Exoskeleton BluesA thick-wrapped night, where fog,Exoskeleton Blues10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
like weeds, had sprung
and drowned Decatur Street,
'cept for a few lit eateries;
spitballs of dotted light.
A figure, running
like The Man was licking
at its neck, a teary ribbon
down its cheek a-dripping
pooling at the throat.
Wet, rib-shaking sobs blew lungs
already straining from the run,
my heart a rabid, raving felon
hammering his bars.
His prints still smeared across my wrist,
his voice an earworm drilling fast
into my brain, I dove into the mist:
a veil of doors.
A girl, a boy, I could not care,
had it been Jesus standing there
arm interlinked with that bold whore
who'd sworn himself to me.
A thousand thoughts rose in my blood:
a convent, poison, all too good
and none would help, just armour, hard
all over, 'gainst such treachery.
The cry came high: a choirboy scream.
My heels scraped gravel as the moan
grew stronger. Veiled in Chartreuse, swarming
solid mists advanced.
The Feu-Fo-Lay, my mother said,
when I was younger, in my bed,
will get you.
EmilyI loved her inside letters, I tuckedEmily8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my hearts and my organs inside of her
messy scrawl, her heartache, her doodles
of lost girls, of black cats, of razors and
pills. I sealed myself, my fate, I sent it to her:
Three stamps, and a kiss, always
with pearl-pink lip gloss. It would fade in the mail,
traveling 5000 miles
to her door, but I did not
care and the doves inside
my chest dared to break out.
I loved her inside letters,
I tucked her pain inside my art.
I filled my envelopes
with sadness, pieces of my hair,
my strange secrets,
my broken stories.
Final ThoughtsFinal Thoughts12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I could repent my dissent and prevent my descent
but I meant to pretend in the end, it made sense.
But the end should have come a long time ago,
we both just held on, although we both know
that we are no longer two peas in a pod,
two bees with a job, you see it's just wrong.
I can't be the guy who just cheers from the yard,
invite me inside, you'll see it's not hard.
My love was a gift, I gave it to you,
my hopes and my dreams, betrayed them for you.
Yes we are different, from two separate worlds,
with you being highbrow and me being poor.
You told me "no matter, I could care less",
now three years gone, it's all a fair mess.
It really does hurt me, although I can't show it.
I really do love you, although you can't know it.
All that I wanted was more of your time,
I loved being with you relaxed and reclined.
Just hearing you breathe was plenty for me,
but you wanted silence, no petting from me.
I guess in the end all our differences won,
so go with the moon, I'll stay for the sun...
constancyconstancy:constancy10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to be spread out over white sheets
eyes wide awake
when afternoon knocks at my door, I will be
the picture of stability.
concrete hands, heart, frame
crumbling into an industrial skeleton
and wishing I was soft as broken soil,
the wind and water leaving bite marks at my edges.
it's five a.m.
and I feel
anything but human
kinetic lustkinetic lust11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Honest drops of Tuesday night
(what few there were)
drained into electric puddles
of coffee and midnight.
Mournful whistles of
. (and coffee pots)
rang teasingly between the walls,
dancing in their own
of lust and touch.
All that humming in the thick
warmth of 12 o'something
was less than love
but more than just the coffee.
. (Black with one sugar. No milk. No exceptions.)
He was only 1.2 feet away from her
but in the barren wasteland of human wanting
he was a canyon and five full city streets
from touching her
Her polite laugh seemed to resound for centuries
through his high towers
of almost-did's and wanted-to's.
This man was
[sad to be losing the only thing he ever wanted more than his next breath. He lived with every mistake he ever made resting in a black shoebox under his empty bed filled with memories of 'her'. Lost in a constant kinesis of longing, hope, need, desire, regret and desperation. This kinetic sad can not go on for
LuciferI have fallen.Lucifer10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
From the sky that above used to embrace me in its
Midnight arms, with the stars my ceiling of light.
I lay observing the heavens for any sign of remorse.
A point of light does not show regret,
In any case.
The starry sky is now my greatest sorrow.
It can no longer hold me
And for that, I will always cup despair
Under my folded hands
A star ensnared.
Saving the StarsSaving the Stars11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"Umbrellas up!" My mother said.
"The stars are coming down!
They're slipping from the heaven's sky
and landing on the ground."
"Watch your head, now, Rosie,"
My mother warned, alert.
"If one should tumble on your head,
I'd think that it will hurt."
"But mother," whined I to my mom,
"The stars should stay up there.
The angels will be stopping this
as soon as they're aware."
"Oh, Rosie," Mother sighed aloud.
"The angels want this done.
They stand behind each beam of light
and push them, one by one."
"What for?" I asked then, soft and sweet.
"I'm feeling so confused.
Do the angels want their friends on earth
to be black and blue and bruised?"
"Not you, Rosie," Mother said.
"You've done nothing wrong.
But evil deeds occur on earth
and most folks just go along.
"For everytime a child's hit,
or killed in bed at night;
Everytime you wrong someone
a star will lose its light."
I gathered up my broom and cried,
"Then I'll sweep them in with you.
We'll hang the stars and patch them up
two tired children'when the sky falls,' she whispered softly, playing with the ends of his hair, 'will you hold my hand?'two tired children10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
they sat in plastic chairs under the streetlight and staring at the stars. the road was empty and the city was hollow, littered with neon advertisements for underwear and french fries. the wind was cool, but not biting, soft and fresh around her neck as she hugged her body, grasping her shoulders and crossing her heart. she'd only brought one bag and she held it between her feet. her little red case of cds and jewelry. all he had was his guitar. she'd never seen him without it. they traveled light, perhaps hoping it'd rub off on their minds, as they sat with their tickets in their pockets and no money in their wallets. she looked up at his face.
'sure,' he said, touching her leg. 'sure i will.'
they turned their heads, looking straight ahead, watching the streetlight shudder and flicker, blinking and fighting as it struggled with the inevitable. it was silent, save for the quiet flow
HATESThe cult of celebrity, Wars for democracy, Popular Bigotry, Universal stupidity.HATES9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
C.N.D. The B.N.P. Reality T.V. and Pompous Poetry.
Football Hooligans. Fourwheel School Runs, Political Shenanigins and National Smoking Bans.
Lack of Time, Poor Design, German Wine and Bacon Rind.
Men who Cry, The King and I, Rhubarb Pie and Princess Di.
Sports in Quarters, Bottled Water, Genoside Slaughter,and Mrs Spears Daughter.
Mysanthropic Cant, Feminist Rant, Nuclear Plant and Small Dogs that Pant,
Religious Extremes, Polluted Streams, Pushy Sales Teams, and Broken Dreams.
Mac Donalds Fries, Global Ties, Blonde Hair & Blue Eyes, and Flies.
Canadian Canoes, Paying your Dues, White man Blues and Ill Fitting Shoes.
Lack of Common Sense, Enforced Absitnence, Being Viewed Askance and most of all Intolerance
The Stories of You001.The Stories of You8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We had dreams of New York, of chasing
dragonflies in the park and laughing at
The dreams were flat & flimsy, like the paper
you wrote them on.
You once told me you saw an old man with
dark eyes and a mandolin. It had no strings.
The expression on his face, the silent instrument
made you cry.
When your mother died, you had
no tears left. Instead you lay very still
under the willow tree, and killed the ants
that dared to go under your bare, strong
You had caught me.
In more ways than one.Your stories
made me afraid. You were stuck in a nightmare,
and you laughed at how soft the world was,
How easy it fell apart.