Posts Tagged Christmas

How the Sewer Ruins Christmas – NaNo Excerpt

The cement slithers in the coolness of the creepy blue air and Freddy’s feet feel the grind through the Florsheims. He’s been wanting new shoes for weeks, but he hates shopping, and reflection on this reminds of him of the thickness of Christmas that is approaching too quickly. The neighbors put out their Halloween lights in September and this is his signal to run from the evils of the season, not of Halloween but of nature’s darkness that places mold inside of Freddy’s brain cells and makes them smell so that other people can see this seeping gas coming from Freddy’s head and he prays every morning for a little light in the season of fall. It never comes, but all of man’s false lights blast his head with and fuse the mold, growing it fast, allowing it to steal any sense of worth. This is true for Freddy, this effect of man’s outdoor lights. The lights wash his brain cells. His mind feels power leaving as the water runs down his body, down the driveway and into that sewer that has trillions of pieces of clay from 60 years ago, clay that man thought would last forever but that now barely holds the slick green, moldy water. Freddy thinks that the water comes back up in the lawns, in through the electrical systems and then into the outdoor lights. He walks down the sidewalk and watches these lights in a broad overview, looking down the street at perhaps 9 houses, all with lights that seem to be fused with evil, they seem to be seeping a green that makes the light some sort of power that evaporates the good that only occasionally floats in the air of the neighborhood.


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The Stillness of Musical Victories

The One Stop Poetry Picture Prompt Challenge inspired me.  Here is my contribution:




That music which is from the soul,

It is that which wins, it triumphs.

Musicians are ready to bring it to life,

And there are always shiny musicians.

They stand in attentive stillness and blow

Against the temporary forms of life.

And when the trumpets sound and swarm,

Nothing is left of the worthlessness.

The worldly, false structures melt away.

There is forever in music and moving time,

The source being love and our creator,

And my soul is comforted  and wrapped.

I float in love.


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The Dilution of Christmas Terror

It is difficult to be one of those horrible human beings who struggles with the Christmas season, especially when my sentiment allows me to accidentally say I hate Christmas.  I was speaking with Dad the other day, and he told me that I am not alone.  Oh, really?  I’ve never met another one, or maybe I’ve never met one who is willing to admit it.  Dad assured me that they are out there that they just might not be as honest as I am or they might not even realize how terrified they are.  I loudly admit my sickening fear and resulting hatred with some and thus I am ostracized.  It’s understandable that folks would view me as not very tolerable as they are going around experiencing all of the joy.   There is no reason to allow someone to diminish  your season merely by being in your company.

This morning I was realizing something that I learn again each year, year after year:  When Christmas finally gets here, I love Christmas.  This may not sound like a big deal to you, but it is to me.  I am allowed Read the rest of this entry »

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Indestructible Despair of the Season

Bach tries valiantly but cannot melt away

The despair of the season.

I need the beautiful structures to

Eradicate the guilt from failure.

I need the perfect harmony

To give me peace and love and joy.

But Bach fails horribly and I cry.


“I’m no good,” comes up from hidden basements.

Mother judged and hated my

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THIS Christmas, Smashed

Two bread sticks, one still going down

The commercials started

Guilt trips nearly killed me off.

The sea of thick red drowning me.


THIS Christmas, get her something she’ll love.

They all say THIS Christmas

as if they know you’ve failed

On every other Christmas.


Tom Shane says you can spend

$15 thousand on a tennis bracelet,

he claims it is only then

she’ll really be glad she married you.


Bread sticks almost come up.

They remain stuck.

There is a grinding blender

spreading my guts.


THIS Christmas.

Come to Home Depot.


How could you go wrong?

(We have more tools than we could use.)


These jingles and promises of

THIS Christmas continued for eternity.

I could not lift to change the channel.

Christmas has finally pummeled me.


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