Waking Up a Year Later

This morning I awoke with a melancholy heart,
My mind on a trolley filled with a volley of thoughts
Brought on partly by the New Year, partly by the old,
And I felt cold, yet at the same time strangely bold;
Not only had I survived the old, but in ways even thrived,
And I could not help but wonder what is in store this year?
I hear it’s supposed to be a good one for me, but we’ll see!
Here it is, then: January has creeped in and I begin again;
Changes are in store for me, so it won’t be a bore for sure!
And I do have my resolutions for some small revolution
In my life, but the year now stretches far beyond my sight,
And it is a bit frightening; will there be blight? Or might
I thrive like busy bees in their hive? Well, I am alive!
What about you? To you I simply say, ‘Happy New Year!’
May yours be blessed with peace and cheer and lots of love!

Specter of the Happy New Year

An end in sight but there is a bend, too, to be turned;
While not everything left behind us can be burned,
Yet there is the unknown, frightening yet exciting . . .
Will we meet another street like the one we are on?
Or will it be fresh, clean and serene for us to travel?
We glance at the clock at the crossing of this block
And tremble inside; we cannot abide where we are,
No matter how brightly shines our star;
We will go far in a mere few steps, dear;
Time chimes late into this night as we look for light,
Bright sun newly risen on horizon with anticipation
And hope for better pilgrimage in a much better age;
But we do not know and this shows in our very eyes!
Some won’t make it to the bend; it’ll truly be the end;
Some will go swinging around bringing holiday cheer
Never knowing the Reaper is near;
Yes, sadly, it will be their last year;
Some will round the corner in fear
Of the unknown, asking what seeds have been sown,
And when they are shown, all the fear will disappear
In the brand New Year in which we will hear shouts
Of glee and bitter cries, hellos and sad goodbyes . . .
But it comes, nevertheless, as surely as the sun rises;
So may the New Year bring you cheer, I say this day,
And may blessings fall upon all who are near and dear!

Breath Breeze Biddings

Over the seas and through the valleys blows numinous breeze;
Over mountains grand and great forest stands, band of angels
Whisper-sing to bring an extraordinary message from up above
In love expressed from an esoteric pool to school us in serenity;
There is a long song in the air to prepare us for a spiritual affair,
An Immanuel flare to repair the broken, which we dare not miss!
As Father Christmas bids New Year come, then let there be cheer
Among all who are near and dear without any thought of fear . . .
Season’s greetings and happy holy days with shining heart rays!

a-warm-breeze

Yuletide Plea and Prayer

Now let there be Yuletide cheer for all near and dear
And those far away, too, without any reason for fear!
No tears or mocking jeers, let peace and joy appear
For sheer enjoyment; no sneers or smears, only love
In which each person is a compeer – small and great,
Short and tall – everyone is hailed at the grand ball!
Let war and violence cease and let goodwill increase
With mother, father, daughter, brother, sister, niece
And everyone without restraint or taint of misdeeds;
Yes, and let all needs be met – the hungry finely fed,
And beds for the homeless, and medicine for the sick
As a grand gesture from ole Saint Nick – with a prick
Of conscience to inspire those who can give to give
That others might truly live everyday along this way,
And let not be for just one day but all the year round;
Let the Yuletide spirit abound in sight and sound . . .
One born long ago was torn and died; and Mary cried;
Let us tear no more but dare to begin to repair now!
Give birth to mirth this Yuletide in cheer, my dearest,
And let love once again descend from up high above!


Note: Previously published on Pax et Dolor

Happy Holiday Thinking

Do you think of the person who looks for a place to lay his head,
Wondering where he’ll get his next piece of bread?
Who finds a place to curl up against the cold winter’s night
Only to be told to move when he has nowhere to go,
Except maybe six feet below?
Or the little girl who whirls around from alleyway to alleyway
Trying to find someone who cares but only ends up
With some pervert that binds her behind locked door?
Do you consider the old woman with shopping cart
Who makes dumpsters her grocery mart?
Or the wandering band from a foreign land
They used to call home?
Or the shell-shocked children of Gaza
Who search for toys among rock and rubble plazas?
Do you think oils spills that poison drinking water
Or the mountain of bills the poor cannot afford to pay?
Or the bullets that kill amidst the shrill screams of war?
Or the ill who have no medical care
Because they cannot bear the cost?
Or the man lost in his own world without hope of escape?
Or blackened drapes, sour grapes, formless shapes,
And untold rapes?
Say, what do you think when you blink your eyes at the world?
Before you say ‘happy holidays,’ think and sink into reality . . .
* * * * * * * *
Do you consider the person who looks for a place to lay his head,
Wondering where he’ll get his next piece of bread?

Happy Indigenous Heritage Day

As we rightly remember blessings bestowed
We cannot help but remember what is owed;
Land we now enjoy once belonged to bands
Of people here long before our Euro-throng;

So . . .
I Give
THANKS
But Not For
CROOKS & BANKS

I Am
GRATEFUL
But Not For
The CRUEL & HATEFUL

I Have
GRATITUDE
But Nor For
ATTITUDES & EMPTY PLATITUDES

Yes, we are rightly thankful for the seeds
That we plant ‘n grow to meet our needs,
But we should count the beads of history
And recall the grand mystery we erased,
Leaving only shadowy lines to be traced

Happy Thanksgiving, perhaps, but also . . .
“Happy Indigenous Heritage Day,” I say!



Note: For a succinct chronology of the protests against DAPL (the Dakota Access Pipeline) you may want to read the following article:

http://www.motherjones.com/environment/2016/09/dakota-access-pipeline-protest-timeline-sioux-standing-rock-jill-stein

srcamp

Roses and Champagne Love

He delved into his pockets to buy twelve roses he’d carefully chosen,
Then went for the bottle of champagne in his avid campaign of love;
This day he would not miss, for it was the day they met on their way
To the same party of love; the day light faded into glorious night ~
Valentine’s Day ~ and the way she kissed him for the very first time,
And passion ignited eventually led to wedding fashion and honeymoon
On another Valentine’s, which gave way to canopy of home and family;
No, he would not forget this day nor ever remit his love, but admit
His complete devotion in frenzied motion along with deep emotion,
No matter the commotion caused; he would not be absent but valiant
In showing his undying love, no matter how cold his only sweetheart;
He would sit by her once more, heart torn with loss borne by grief,
His true lover under cover of earth would give birth again to mirth
Of memories gone by . . . all with no more than stone cold reply.
‘Happy Valentine’s,’ he would utter with shutter; ‘oh my one love
Now above where the angels sing; may they now bring my best to you’
Happy Valentine’s Day

For Valentine’s Sake

Α

Someone died because another one lied;
Someone tried the innocent and tied him
To the stake for the sake of the guilty;
Burned him alive at a quarter to five
On the day of love for following the way
Of cross and celestial crown that brought
The frown of a silly but powerful clown;
But who would remember and who could tell
His tale in this land of forgotten memories?
As sand flows thru the glass, the wind blows
Ashes of Valentine round the hills of Rome,
His tome shot thru by little Cupid’s arrow
In barely narrow remembrance of real love.

Happy St. Valentine’s Day!

Ω