A poem a day for December 2014

[Paulclem]

I'd like to try and write a poem a day for December again this year. I normally ask what format, but I'm late due to how busy it's been. So this year I'm going to write whatever comes to mind - Haiku, Tanka, Cinque or a four line 8 syllable rhyming form I've been practising with on Twitter. (140 characters long).

If anyone wants to join in posting poems each day, then you'll be welcome.

[Paulclem]

So here goes.

1st December

December the first.
Open the first advent door.
Thirty - one unknowns.

[cacian]

Paulclem will join in. a great idea :)

december
lovely and warm in
ember
under a sunny spell
of an early morning bell
but cold to a freezing
tone
under a snowy fall
of a sky white and gold

[Paulclem]

Hi Cacian. I like your first posting. Very good.

[Paulclem]

A distant crow cries.
There's no answer. I whistle.
It flies off. Silent.

[YesNo]

The stars above the cloudy sky
Don’t know that I can’t see them yet.
I likely won’t till weather clears.
By then, I fear, I might forget.

[Paulclem]

Good start YesNo.
I haven't counted the characters, but that's the form I've been using on Twitter.

December 2nd

Cold morning cafe.
Drinking in the scene; the beige
mix, decor, people.

[YesNo]

I forgot to count the characters in the first one. I think they were below 140.

Dark Stuff

The universe needs lots of stuff
To keep it on it’s way,
Some light, some dark. I’ve had enough
Of dark, but now it’s day.

[cacian]

Hi Cacian. I like your first posting. Very good.

hi Pail i did not realise there was a form to follow.
does it have to be a form?

[Paulclem]

No - no form to follow. I was just giving examples. I've done a few haiku to start with but I might change. It depends what I come up with.

[cacian]

thank you Paulclem.

second of december

in afar away land
the sun rises frame
the scenery to a fame
to see it is to sane

[Paulclem]

December 3rd

A half moon shining.
Arcs of streetlamps light my way;
orange not silver.

[YesNo]

Just before I went to sleep
A poem came to me
Out of the blue
Out of the green
Out of some mystery.

[cacian]

december the third

I like to
write
and I also like
to say
to combine
the two is
a play
to read it
a muse

[Calidore]

No work today, alas
I have an open slate
I think I'll celebrate
By sitting on my ***

[YesNo]

The cards I’ve drawn confuse me more.
The Queen of Cups is upside down.
The King of Wands is looking for
A smile but only gets a frown.

[Pompey Bum]

Gulls fall rank and fierce
Betraying soft hazy cries
I can see no shore

[NikolaiI]

I wrote this yesterday. I tried to write more of it but it just seems to stay as a three-lined poem.

The leaves fall,
but they stay in my mind
and the music remains.

[NikolaiI]

Poetry
is definitely
about evolution.
Rise into your higher
Sphere, place a hand
to your true heart, and
speak a silent, holy name.
Wisdom, poetry, peace, truth,
All will come to your call -
There is nothing dividing
your past from future
selves, all are one,
it all begins now.

[cacian]

The cards I’ve drawn confuse me more.
The Queen of Cups is upside down.
The King of Wands is looking for
A smile but only gets a frown.

YesNo never knew you were a card reader haha :D
a nice piece i enjoyed :)

[Paulclem]

Excellent stuff!

I'm a bit late today as it's been busy at work, but here we are.

It is twenty to five o'clock.
I'm tired, I frown, my mind's a block.
So cheery then, at ten past ten;
a jolly, smiling analogue.

[Pompey Bum]

In Russia lives Vladimir Putin,
A man much enamored of shootin'.
To look in his soul
One finds a black hole,
Which goes to show Bush was no Newton.

[Paulclem]

5th December

Far red morning's clear.
Night mists sheath the near city;
today's trip obscured.

[YesNo]

YesNo never knew you were a card reader haha :D
a nice piece i enjoyed :)

Thanks, cacian! I'm just a beginner with the tarot.




Poem for December 5th: Dreamer

My aura’s acting up, it seems.
Last night I had some wicked dreams.
What’s wicked isn’t always bad
When summed with good, but I can’t add.

[cacian]

YesNo that sounds rather mystical :D
it must be fun to be able to read cards :)

i began
therefore i move on
and when i next
time
I decide to start
i will make it
clear i know
when to stop

[virtuoso]

I would gladly be your bellhop
If your elevator did not have trap doors
stopped on all of the lighted floors
and your loose cables did not snap pop


I

[virtuoso]

I planted my seed in your womb
your dominant traits freed
and with a wanton greed
my polished casing did entomb

[NikolaiI]

what makes you deaf?
it is one thing,
unkindness.

[YesNo]

The universe is like a song
Performed and that’s why it needs space
And sound takes time. Before too long
We’re wrapped like lovers filled with grace.

[Paulclem]

Good stuff. An interesting mix being posted this year.

Ragged Autumn clouds.
Perfectly circular moon
through rents and tatters.



How forlorn looks the Christmas tree
though it's lights shine brilliantly.
There's no-one looking, no-one smiles;
their minds will be elsewhere a while.

[Paulclem]

December 7th

Weather Elementals

Fronts descend on the weather map;
the North Wind's kiss just like a slap.
We head for home and fire huddle;
elemental kiss and cuddle.

[YesNo]

Round cheeks, round eyes, round nose, round head,
So plump you know he’s getting fed.
The infant does not seem to mind,
Accepts your gifts and trusts you’re kind.

[virtuoso]

Our stockings hung de rigueur
Stuffed with aplomb, care
The mantle our warmth does bare,
until our goodies we must share

[Paulclem]

December 8th

Cold Cathedral spire
points into the distant blue.
Does it pierce heaven?

[YesNo]

There’s little reason to be sad
Though some of us are rather bad,
Though some of us should go to hell
Till laughter lets us lift the spell.

Or maybe this version is better:

There’s little reason to be sad
Since some of us are better bad
And some of us should go to hell
Till laughter lifts us and this spell.

i don't like that one either.

[YesNo]

There once was a limerick writer
Whose poetry failed to delight her.
All she wanted was more
With less words than before
But more mindless to spark and ignite her.

[Pompey Bum]

A cannibal lady from Thrace
Sighed long as she wiped off her face;
She gnawed at some gristle,
Then said with dismissal,
"Well, he's gone, but at least he had taste."

[virtuoso]

Santa Imprints

Peer at the slapstick Santa
drunk on the pixelated screen
Gawk at the mechanical Santa
who seeks your dollar to wean
Glimpse at the kettle Santa
ringing for your spare change
but patronize the perennial Santa
whose gifts you can exchange

[Paulclem]

A red sky morning.
Workers in woolies flocking
along well worn paths.

All night fast fooder
full of families, youths and
older men eating.

I had written these earlier but forgot to post. Just in time.

[YesNo]

Gibberish, gabberish, gubberish, goo
This poem’s unmeaning means nothing to you.
This poem’s unmeaning means nothing to me.
Gibberish, gabberish, gubberish, gee

[Pompey Bum]

Higgledy Piggledy
Nominative, genitive,
Dative, accusative--
Almost the end--
Ablative, vocative,
There ain't no locative,
That's a declension, now
Say it again.

[Paulclem]

Through winter's window
harsh branches scrape at the sky.
The Blue will persist.



Sickbed- looking out.
December has stripped back life;
those wasted tree limbs.

[YesNo]

A theory is a way to match
What one believes is surely true
With what one has to face each day
That shows in every other way
That one’s beliefs just will not do.

[Paulclem]

Forum Limerick

Once on a forum a troll sat
beneath chatty threads like a poised rat.
When a post went chit chat
he would snap at them back,
calling them stupid and too fat.

Hands stuffed in pockets.
Wet pavements reflecting grey.
Minds on home warm hearths.

At the Dentist

At the Dentist, your whole world filled
with faces and instruments till
you leave. Words stumble and slip from
numb, uncooperative lips.

[Pompey Bum]

Hands stuffed in pockets.
Wet pavements reflecting grey.
Minds on home warm hearths.

Lovely, Paul. You may have written it about London, but it could have been Boston or Taipei.

[YesNo]

It seemed so long, but it was short
The moments that we had to spend
And “suffer”, so we called it then.
We didn’t understand it when
We had to wait until the end.

[Pompey Bum]

MILTON (Not Blake's)
For Yes/No

John Milton fastened his kilt on
And wandered all over the town.
And there he met Satan bemoaning his fate and
Lying about on the ground.

"Poet, I've fallen!" the old boy was callin',
"A state that I share with all men;
But given the choice, I think 'me an' da boys'
(And the ladies) would fall once again."

"Aroint thee, foul fiend!" the polemicist keened,
"A plague on your lying and falling!
God meant you for hell, that's the reason you fell
'Like lightning'--tis frightening, appalling!

But its God's will, not ours, and the coward who cowers
Considers not God nor the Good,
Who willed His creations His own sublimations
Of freedom--enough to have stood."

[Paulclem]

There's some good stuff being written. Thanks, and thanks for your comments Pompey. Coventry not London, but it could well have been.

All night shop windows
festooned with lights and Santa's
long unblinking joy.

A poor night of sleep.
December's harsh cold pricking
millions and me.


The long consonants
of my waiting and wanting
suffused with why's, I's.

[YesNo]

"Poet, I've fallen!" the old boy was callin',
"A state that I share with all men;
But given the choice, I think 'me an' da boys'
(And the ladies) would fall once again."


Nice one and since I might be traveling tomorrow, here's one for tomorrow along the same lines:


Just When Hell Was Getting Good

Satan was waiting. His hate was deflating.
He needed an answer today.
God knew it’s His bad when He said that He had
Sent that good girl to hell in some way.

Well, the good girl won’t leave though she makes Satan grieve
Since by now she has made lots of friends.
They would have to go to but God said that won’t do
And so God needs to make some amends.

Satan can’t stand the good since no good Satan would
And who could trust a Satan who’s glad?
He would like to resist, but a boy who’s been kissed
Can’t resist after good drove him mad.

[Pompey Bum]

PINK ROSE

Pristine as the summer sorrel,
Sylph with charms as pink as coral,
Nature clothed you at her leisure,
Hiding there a deeper treasure;
Till that fire, by you invited,
Red from pink, your soul ignited.
O pink rose, your heart is blighted!
Like to flesh corrupts the canker,
Love infects you like a chancre.

[Paulclem]

Dark hill of houses.
The cheerful Windows discerned
under the cold plough.

[NikolaiI]

A stranger, clothed in white, appeared
And whisked away the roses' thorn
"til all that was left was a sadness mirror'd
In a desert, moonbeam, and fate forlorn.
a taste of bliss
was nothing less
than answering kiss
with a gesture to bless
for the sake of heaven, sky
and answering questions, why
would I let fall twice as many
when days have gone by
in which the sky and I
again found peace.

[NikolaiI]

The funny thing about saying "Glory Be to the Highest"
is that it is just like saying Glory Be to the Lowest,
and they are really the same thing -
Now, when you say it,
as when you say anything,
Something goes out of you.
But something also goes in.
And all I would ask of you -
is what is that which goes out,
and what is that which goes in?

How does the spirit become free?
The life unkinked?
The ego is let go,
and one lets it go, time, and time again,
and eventually begins the path of spiritual self-realization.

Dig in.

[YesNo]

Reserve no power over those
Who paint the day with grays of night.
They’ll think you paint their pretty days
With something other than their light.
I’d paint my days with rays of green
And blue and orange and other stuff
And let things bloom about, be seen,
Till darkness says I’ve had enough.

[Pompey Bum]

ALPHA MALE (or SNIGGER)

On far flung isles, the feces piles
Of apes grow problematic.
The dung that's flung drops from the bung
Of alpha males emphatic.
Yet those who threw the apey poo
Deserve not admonition:
Their pranks grow old, but truth be told,
They take more than they're dishin'.
I'm not the beast to hold my peace
Because a fellow's bigger.
So I, like you, should cast all poo
Back at the ape and snigger.

[Paulclem]

We've got some good variety going on chaps. Excellent stuff Nik, Yesno and Pompey.


These quiet nights alone.
TV provides the voices
filling empty rooms.


Plastic Christmas tree;
layers and ages compressed
to save real pine trees.

[NikolaiI]

Paul, that is beautiful; well done, friend. :) and thanks. :]

[NikolaiI]

Haiku:

There is infinite
power in love and kindness
to banish hatred.

[NikolaiI]

I guess I could have omitted "haiku."

Sorry for the three posts :p

Actually I'm not, but I won't make it a habit...


To redeem myself I will write another ;)





Evolve upwards! You!
There's really no place better.
I won't regret you.


My comment about the previous poem is that the last line is a total worthless appendage. To amend this, I will write the following.


Cut thought at the root!
Let it banish all your cares.
and then re-write it.


No, no, I think I am not done.


Silence has power.
Reflection gets the job done.
Forget yourself new.


and the last one.. I swear.


Forget I'm nothing.
Remember I'm everything.
Please let me go, now.


Clouds, make way, I'm through.
Waiting for two of you too-
Please let me go through.


I cut off my head
but it's only illusion -
and answer, I'm dead.


I let go of fear,
calling and cloy-i-ing
and carrying pews.


I burnt in the ash-
es, for grace petals catch-
es, in the grasses.


Forgetfulness times
me not, can't you see
I'm letten you rot?


Famished, and I won't
Expect you to remember
I can't answer why.


A million thoughts
Answer one question to me;
"How to?", and "I'm free."

[NikolaiI]

,



I'm not poetry-
All I can do, for someone
Is point the way there.


I have skillful means,
No, I have no skillful means
Reflect me, I'm mean.


Illusion can't be
When there is no illusion
Why cannot there be?

[YesNo]

Some see darkness. Some see light.
Some see day and some like night.
Both are offered come what may
With peaceful night and busy day.

[Pompey Bum]

A prudish young lass from Calcutta
Was afflicted, alas, with a stutter.
She cried in the forum,
"I want d*ck, d*ck, decorum!
Why is everyone's mind in the gutter?"

[Paulclem]

Haha

Creaking with people,
the house accommodates us
into its corners.



A cold breathy night.
Silver vapour like far stars;
ghost constellations.

[NikolaiI]

Suffering is a thorn
that pricked Hitler in the @ss
Since the day he was born
Extreme fear, doubt, forlorn,
he also never knew grass.

[YesNo]

There once was a fella named Joe,
Whose name rhymes with anything, though
I forgot what he did
And what secrets he hid,
But they say that his women still know.

[Pompey Bum]

Higgeldy Piggeldy
L.V. Ciccone (her
Stage name's Madonna), an
Elderly ho,
Wiggles her *ss for the
Heterosexual:
It's getting old and I
Don't mean her show.

[Paulclem]

The lament of days;
despite distances travelled,
no routes back time's way.



Walls of art and taste.
Introverts' furniture set
facing in at you.

[YesNo]

There once was a lover name Lou
Who didn’t know what he should do.
Betty Sue wasn’t there.
She went out. Who knows where?
Should he care or just tell her they’re through?

[Pompey Bum]

NAIAD

I met a naiad once and never,
I found her by a wasted grove.
She filled me with a morbid fever,
And for a time I called it love.

I thought her fair, I thought me clever
To lie there with her through the night.
I hoped that I might never leave her,
As dead her fingers took me tight.

The morning came, I was abandoned.
The sunlight warmed my body bare.
My skin was gray, my fingers aged,
As through them brushed my milk-white hair.

[NikolaiI]

The darkest-skinned person I know
Is a lover of love, and all that would go
with the highest feelings of love and bliss
It would seem so natural, to answer a kiss
With a returning hug, for so love grows
and seasons are planted, heaven only knows
what passes for life in a day-dream so bare
of the mind who cannot muster a care.

[NikolaiI]

We stopped Hitler with bombs and bullets
Because no one stopped him with words before;
Later they came out with hippies and mullets,
And many other things to help stop the gore.

If you know what gives life for you, wonderful, love it -
That is all that I would happen to believe.
And if you know sadness, find help, rise above it -
But if you cause sadness, I would ask you to leave.

[Paulclem]

Alone with Christmas.
Windows reflect festive lights
into the dark night.

[DATo]

Alone with Christmas.
Windows reflect festive lights
into the dark night.

Memories gather.
Spiced rum scent wafts,
Mingled with pine.

[Paulclem]

Alone with Christmas.
Windows reflect festive lights
into the dark night.

Memories gather.
Spiced rum scent wafts,
Mingled with pine.

Mingled pine fragrance.
Minds become those past moments;
sipping joy and pain.

[YesNo]

My muse said, “I am getting sick
Of poetry,” and I said, “What?”
“Make up the stuff yourself,” she said,
“It’s not that hard. I’ll be in bed.”
I wish I could compose it, but
There’s little in my lonely head
To make the fickle sparkles stick.

[Pompey Bum]

Higgledy Piggledy
Jonathan Harker, the
Hero of Dracula
(well, a bit part),
With his wife Mina he
Necroromantically
Opened a coffin and
Broke poor Vlad's heart.

[NikolaiI]

Alone with Christmas.
Windows reflect festive lights
into the dark night.

Memories gather.
Spiced rum scent wafts,
Mingled with pine.

Mingled pine fragrance.
Minds become those past moments;
sipping joy and pain.

I am gratefulness -
and I have learned to be peace.
I need for nothing.

[DATo]

Alone with Christmas.
Windows reflect festive lights
into the dark night.

Memories gather.
Spiced rum scent wafts,
Mingled with pine.

Mingled pine fragrance.
Minds become those past moments;
sipping joy and pain.

I am gratefulness -
and I have learned to be peace.
I need for nothing.

Yet memories gather.
Smiles and shrouds
Mingle in a ballet of yesterdays.

[Mohammad Ahmad]

December comes and another goes
To be glad there is a reasonable cause
Some had pain other on misery feel
Shaking the bell will remove the hell
If all people to one have a heart,
No trouble shall be on a distant skirt
As we are human may engage in life
Whether on sad days or at relief
God keeps all to be rather influent
In apparently deed or just intent
This is my message I dispatch to the world
Not in December but where I can hold

[YesNo]

The wavy surface, sometimes still,
Is what I understand and will
Prefer its day to any night
Though some may claim that all is light.

Below the surface of the sea
Reality seems strange to me
Yet not that strange. What I might find
Could turn out to be also kind.

[Paulclem]

Alone with Christmas.
Windows reflect festive lights
into the dark night.

Memories gather.
Spiced rum scent wafts,
Mingled with pine.

Mingled pine fragrance.
Minds become those past moments;
sipping joy and pain.

I am gratefulness -
and I have learned to be peace.
I need for nothing.

Yet memories gather.
Smiles and shrouds
Mingle in a ballet of yesterdays.

Yesterday's ballet;
the ghosts of a thousand days
not here, there, nowhere.

[DATo]

Alone with Christmas.
Windows reflect festive lights
into the dark night. - Paulclem

Memories gather.
Spiced rum scent wafts,
Mingled with pine. - DATo

Mingled pine fragrance.
Minds become those past moments;
sipping joy and pain. - Paulclem

I am gratefulness -
and I have learned to be peace.
I need for nothing. - NikolaiI

Yet memories gather.
Smiles and shrouds
Mingle in a ballet of yesterdays. - DATo

Yesterday's ballet;
the ghosts of a thousand days
not here, there, nowhere. - Paulclem

Aether now their ghostly clime.
Christmas memories - thou Grecian urn,
In thee I now abide. - DATo

[YesNo]

Today I woke up with a cold.
The Theraflu is working though.
Reality is not so clear--
It never was, or so I fear--
Today I know that I don’t know.

[Paulclem]

The Winter Solstice

Long night's dormancy.
The ground's face, rippled and bleak,
brims with potential.

[Paulclem]

Alone with Christmas.
Windows reflect festive lights
into the dark night. - Paulclem

Memories gather.
Spiced rum scent wafts,
Mingled with pine. - DATo

Mingled pine fragrance.
Minds become those past moments;
sipping joy and pain. - Paulclem

I am gratefulness -
and I have learned to be peace.
I need for nothing. - NikolaiI

Yet memories gather.
Smiles and shrouds
Mingle in a ballet of yesterdays. - DATo

Yesterday's ballet;
the ghosts of a thousand days
not here, there, nowhere. - Paulclem

Aether now their ghostly clime.
Christmas memories - thou Grecian urn,
In thee I now abide. - DATo

Christmas memories:
full of tinsel, warm smiles, tinged
with passing sadness. - Paulclem

[Pompey Bum]

Darkness, you old mask
Promises come and leave me
Alone with Christmas

[DATo]

Alone with Christmas.
Windows reflect festive lights
into the dark night. - Paulclem

Memories gather.
Spiced rum scent wafts,
Mingled with pine. - DATo

Mingled pine fragrance.
Minds become those past moments;
sipping joy and pain. - Paulclem

I am gratefulness -
and I have learned to be peace.
I need for nothing. - NikolaiI

Yet memories gather.
Smiles and shrouds
Mingle in a ballet of yesterdays. - DATo

Yesterday's ballet;
the ghosts of a thousand days
not here, there, nowhere. - Paulclem

Aether now their ghostly clime.
Christmas memories - thou Grecian urn,
In thee I now abide. - DATo

Christmas memories:
full of tinsel, warm smiles, tinged
with passing sadness. - Paulclem

Darkness, you old mask
Promises come and leave me
Alone with Christmas - Pompey Bum

Vows unfulfilled, dance outside
My window with snowflakes in the wind,
Summoned by Festive Light's allure. - DATo

[Gilliatt Gurgle]

I bring tidings of great joy,
on this solstice morn.
Fifty one years ago to the day,
your OP was born.

Though I haven’t taken part
in these reindeer games,
I’ve read from the hearth,
my soul warmed by the flames.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGOao1_JVTo

[YesNo]

We’ve reached the bottom of the year
When nights are long and daylight’s dim.
Reversing course hope conquers fear
As darkness gets a daily trim.

[Paulclem]

I bring tidings of great joy,
on this solstice morn.
Fifty one years ago to the day,
your OP was born.

Though I haven’t taken part
in these reindeer games,
I’ve read from the hearth,
my soul warmed by the flames.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGOao1_JVTo


Thanks Gil.

So by your demonstrated skill,
Your contribution's welcome here.
We still have some days yet to fill
With thoughtful poetry and cheer.


http://m.youtube.com/?#/watch?v=E8ZYxTPhXA8

[Pompey Bum]

Lover's Kiss
by Marcus Valerius Martialis (translation: P. Bum)

Spent balsam, burnt yesterday, sweet,
Last scent falls from a curved saffron mist;
With apples ripened in winter store,
Or a field made lush with soft spring petals;
Silks of a Palatine mistress's couch,
Or amber warmed in a virgin's hand;
A cask of black wine, opened, but hence,
Or a garden's keep of Sicanian bees;
Alabaster boxes like hearths of gods,
Or a garland fallen from glistening locks:

Why speak of such things? They are not enough.
Blend them all, for such is the taste
Of my lover's embraces when dawn is near.
Do you want a name, Sabine? I'll tell
If but for the sake of embraces--but swear!
Ah no, Sabine, you seek to know too well.

[Paulclem]

Alone with Christmas.
Windows reflect festive lights
into the dark night. - Paulclem

Memories gather.
Spiced rum scent wafts,
Mingled with pine. - DATo

Mingled pine fragrance.
Minds become those past moments;
sipping joy and pain. - Paulclem

I am gratefulness -
and I have learned to be peace.
I need for nothing. - NikolaiI

Yet memories gather.
Smiles and shrouds
Mingle in a ballet of yesterdays. - DATo

Yesterday's ballet;
the ghosts of a thousand days
not here, there, nowhere. - Paulclem

Aether now their ghostly clime.
Christmas memories - thou Grecian urn,
In thee I now abide. - DATo

Christmas memories:
full of tinsel, warm smiles, tinged
with passing sadness. - Paulclem

Darkness, you old mask
Promises come and leave me
Alone with Christmas - Pompey Bum

Vows unfulfilled, dance outside
My window with snowflakes in the wind,
Summoned by Festive Light's allure. - DATo

Snowflakes in the wind,
like forgotten memories
whirling from our minds.

[YesNo]

I know my messy desk needs cleaning
But I would rather write a verse
Explaining why it needs that cleaning
And why it’s likely to get worse.

[Pompey Bum]

Higgledy Piggeldy
Dickens and Eliot,
Yesterday's writers, Vic-
Torian guck.
Oh what I'd give to see,
Anti-abashedly,
One of them mention a
Jolly good, um, time.

[Paulclem]

And so you sit and talk until
your day will drift away and then
the night creeps slow beneath your door;
night swallows, your face hits the floor,
and who was then is now no more.

[YesNo]

Being the good guy is easy to be
Though often it means that I simply won’t see
The way that that bad guy keeps showing his face
Insisting that I should now stand in his place.
But I can ignore any bad guy illusion:
Pretend that I’m better and trust that conclusion.

[Pompey Bum]

Old pipe smoke father
Your ghost is still on our books
Every page a grave

[Paulclem]

Wishes

Out Christmas shopping.
Try to buy seasonal joy
that cannot be bought.

This seasonal joy;
the flashing mulled wine laughter,
lulling stocking dreams.

Christmas stocking dreams,
the warmth of sparkling snow scenes
here with little snow.

Here there's little snow;
wishes reach for perfect scenes
and ghostly night bells.

[YesNo]

There is no traffic on the street.
The whims of winter still
My urges to explore and greet
Or magnify my will.

[Paulclem]

Eve's Christmas

Christmas Eve in town.
Red faced men gather by pubs,
Red faced women shop.


Hordes

Hordes descend on town,
you hear their calls from afar;
the youths and children.

Old Guy

The sick yellow beard
incongruous with fast food
and his fifties suit.

[YesNo]

A Child is born and angels sing.
The shepherds watch the magi kings
Present their gifts then back away.
There’s joy for all on Christmas Day.

[Pompey Bum]

RAIN AT CHRISTMAS

The god in red
Was lost this year
In cold, sharp torrents
And fast moving clouds.

We left him for dead,
His antlers, his deer,
His mallet, his clothing rent,
His hoary head bowed

Beside his sled
(Now a tomb); where near
That doom lamented
Lonely, angry crowds.

A star fled
From that darkness and that fear,
And through the night it lent
Celestial light while shepherds cowed.

On and on it led
To such a place that tears
Of joy surprised were sent
To wash the eyes of those that followed.

[Paulclem]

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve darkness
full of the blue stars watching.
Birdsong but no bells.

Christmas Eve at 12

A twelve o'clock song.
The frosty night rings with birds
calling to starlight.

Winter

The hand of winter
grips tighter in the darkness.
Lit Windows peer out.

[YesNo]

After shock there comes repose.
The tensions tilt to peace and those
Who worried once can rest and pause
Their search for an unloving cause.

[Paulclem]

Losing a Wristwatch

Time now rolls onward;
not round and round, though my head
spins- unadjusted.

[Delta40]

I'm over the cheer
the tinsel, the deer
as frothy laughter subsides
like ribbon torn
I'm feeling worn
By dishes stacked too high

[YesNo]

The morning seems too peaceful for
The hunger that I think should end
My yearning if I got some more
Of what I got the day before
And what I’ll take no matter what
Except this morning’s peaceful, but
I need some more. There’s plenty day,
Enough to waste some parts away.

[Paulclem]

Trotsky and Santa

Clothed in red, alive and dead,
corporeal and corporate,
yet seemingly so disparate.

Red connected, though poles apart,
the snow and ice pick out their mark.
Both of them involved in sleighing;
one the doer, one obeying.
Both used lists of disapproval;
your name on there may mean removal.

And all around the world their names
are used for politico-religious aims,
not to mention economics
which now is psychic ergonomics.

[YesNo]

The morning's come in peacefully and I
Disturb the peace with wond’ring what to do
There isn’t much I need to do, but why
Not ask the Universe to do that, too?
I know that She would tell me I must choose,
Observe, and then accept what I have done.
She can stand by and charm me like a muse,
But I must act then know that we are One.

[Pompey Bum]

LATE DECEMBER

Superfluous days
Janus' watch-spring all sprung out
Run down--the times fled away
It's when you start to doubt your doubt
And you know in your heart there's no way out
Except through the Minotaur's maze

Repentance and rage
Regret at knowing you know
That whether you broke the cage
Or got the girl or shot the bull or burnt the page
The wages of sin are just how it goes
And the ball of twine wont show you the way

Death and old age
(What no young couple needs to know)
When Janus' masks are at last stripped away
And his mad eyes hold what his mouths won't betray
When the tempest rages but no fool shows
And the rain doesn't really care what you say

[Paulclem]

After Christmas

Arse end of the year.
Sudden chills, flu, a half time.
New numbers change things.

[YesNo]

A peaceful morning once again appears
And I don’t understand what sorrow nears
Like what I know might not be what is real
Like what I want is not how I might feel.
This isn’t where I thought that I would go,
But that’s not bad. I simply didn’t know.

[Paulclem]

A good haul of poems. It has made this thread good fun.

People and Pigeons

Out in the city
pigeons wheel, people parade.
Crowds; a slow flocking.


Winter Fingers

Slipping under seams,
these cold, shiverback fingers
play many a spine.

[YesNo]

The New Year requests resolutions
Like a beggar invites contributions
To repaint wintry grays,
Patch the cracking old ways,
To pretend, but not risk revolutions.

[Paulclem]

Puzzles

Childhood's wooden puzzle boxes
are lifelong pre-occupations
when their parents input yielded
multiple obfustications.

Engineers engaging numbers,
fitting their physics to desire.
Will the joins yield satisfaction
and will it last through cold and fire.

Scientists with stats and numbers
established facts, their theories squared.
Test and stretch the postulations,
to solve all puzzles they're prepared.

All of history's great solving
and all the progress, still can't find.
All of life's great missing pieces,
How we don't understand our minds.

[YesNo]

The blossoms tease their skirts for roaming bees
Who intercede for lovers. Then there’s these:
They lie upon the ground safe out of sight
Sweet rhythmically confounded with delight.
Spring comes again. For now, we’re winter bound.
Enjoy the pause as pleasure shifts around.

------------------------

Thanks for starting the thread, Paulclem.

I've enjoyed reading all the contributions to it.

[Paulclem]

Old Notebook

Old Notebook finished.
Thoughts blackened all the pages;
each day a moment.


Winter

Winter's frosty grip.
The iron ground like clenched knuckles,
sky an icy stare.


Early Morning

Everyone sleeping.
The Cold house still and silent;
full of unseen dreams.


Crowdspace

A cold and sparse day.
Shoppers spread into spaces
like they always would.


New Notebook

Today's New Notebook;
white pages of potential,
fields of future thought.


Last Year

Last year's memories;
the maelstrom of months and days
not yet history.

Janus

Janus. New Year's Eve.
Glancing back; emotions mixed.
Forward; deep black void.

[Paulclem]

And so the challenge is complete,
the daily writings were a treat.
I thank you for your entries here
and hope we'll be as good next year.