This Christmas

2 Corinthians 9:7

30 - JB - Lego Advent calendar *
1 - Acct - Starbucks chocolate Advent calendar
2 - KW - "Bearito" --> Chipotle gift cards rolled in foil around a beanie baby (bb) bear named "Snacks"
3 - GBI - Pontiki (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pontiki) x 6
4 - HS - Charlie Brown Christmas tree & DVD + felt blanket wrap *
5 - JJ - Stocking of candy + snacks + coal gum
6 - JM - Snowman serving tray + sno-cups snack cakes + Hersheys Candy Canes
7 - JW - bb gingerbread men + build-your-own gingerbread house
8 - LE - bb snowman + snowdrift with "O Tannenbaum" snowglobe
9 - JK - snowdrift of Hershey bars & tootsie rolls & reese's trail mix
10 - MM - Treasure map to find "Daring Girls" book
11 - EB - 8 matchbox, 8 hot wheels + road playmat
12 - TB - Betta fish + Christmas lights + box of candy canes + garland + door bells
13 - ATD - Stuffed bear named 'Bearfeld' + pet cat + Coldstone gift card
14 - KM - Cotton candy snowballs + bb dog + dog songs Christmas CD *
15 - SS - big Snowman on chair wrapped in a bag + mint Kisses
16 - MH - yellow crayon full of art supplies
17 - KS - Who-ville-looking stuff + light & sound smiling Grinch
18 - RH - See's Scotchmallows + truffles + assorted chocolates
19 - Comm - Stocking full of wind-up toys + insta-grow capsules + sno-caps + candy canes
20 - TG - Chris'mice', reindeer corn + a Santa sack _full_ of bows
21 - CM - Snowdrift of tea + tealight
22 - MH - Raymond Briggs' "Snowman" book & toy + Christmas candy
23 - RV - peppermint box / beanie baby + 'light' Christmas snacks
24 - SK - Sharky's burrito cards + shark stickers + hostess sno-balls + Christmas candy

orange

I totally get this poem... and I smile.

I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you - Nobody - Too?
Then there's a pair of us!
Don't tell! they'd advertise - you know!

How dreary - to be - Somebody!
How public - like a Frog -
To tell one's name - the livelong June -
To an admiring Bog!

-Emily Dickinson

stitch

Clotho's thread pulls tight,
binding separate pieces.
Divine tapestry.

w.i.t.

truth takes many forms-
sometimes it smiles, makes you laugh
until your sides hurt.

signs

Steel and glass mingle
work of industrial art
and make it so clear

mutton

This is my attempt at an English sonnet... let me know if I have two left feet.


you look and see a lost and found beige ram,
his grazing diff'rent since the day he strayed,
led back by He who died a man, a lamb,
Whose fold is true, and staff, relief prepaid.

I speak with sheep and yes, we bleat today.
we'll lie with lions, just you wait and see
last night I tried to shear it all away.
forgot how big a golden fleece can be.

the dreams don't show from all the counting tried.
the wool I pull still veils my hazel view
I love the flock, try not to stand and hide.
a meadow, fences disappear - and ewe.

do you remember just what Mary had--
advice given Bo Peep when she was sad?

wise eyes

This is a one-syllable villanelle... not great, but not easy either.

wise,
fair
eyes.
cries
there,
wise
guys
stare.
eyes
prize
where
wise
skies
flare.
eyes
rise.
pray'r-
wise
eyes.

Dive

it's back open again.
Lifeguard gave the 'all clear'.
pool-boy hadn't seen
a kid in cutoffs horsing around.

summer sun saturates skin.
I like to float, but forgot how to swim.

looks good, I'm aware;
pulsing solution, alive,
splashing the toes waiting
out on the tiles.

does the chlorine sting?
a few rub their eyes,
yet nostrils aren't singed.

Someone filled this void with water,
though I'm sure some of it is made of
tears and sweat.
Rules are clear, and yet
it's here to enjoy.

trunks are on, and chest is bare.
I walk up to the edge, and ask
a question I am not first to pose:
slip in quietly and adapt,
or grab knees and cannonball?

Teal

wet pupils narrow,
heart winces, swallowed again.
I cannot do it.

Charites

This is a sestina poem. Check wikipedia for a definition.

I know many, still only three
stay in my mind. They know Grace
like few others. If beauty
is truth, then their work is mirth,
and it always brings good cheer.
They lend their gifts to serve.

And I know who they serve-
the Lord Who's one in three.
Hosanna! I hear them proudly cheer.
Co-heirs of boundless grace,
I'm driven to their mirth;
smiles that sing Creation's beauty.

first we meet beauty
as she fixes food she won't eat, yet will serve,
and coyly engages in sarcastic mirth.
she works until three,
then passes unbelief into future grace.
tired, but brings the same side-smile cheer.

In a blur you'll see good cheer
set up by another style of beauty.
We'd all be better off if we knew the grace
it takes to silently serve.
She could be the leader of the three,
if selflessness did not multiply her mirth.

Finally you might miss mirth,
since she's always out there sharing cheer.
She plays every position of the three.
Big heart, she laughs, un-ambitious beauty-
that's the kind of spirits they serve;
what else would you expect from Grace?

There are no demands from grace,
the only thing with no strings, gives mirth
to the lips of one receiving a gift. They serve
not because they seek, but because their cheer
is tied to the One who formed beauty
through death, and fulfilled it by day three.

The Three Graces-
Aglaea: Beauty, Euphrosyne: Mirth,
Thalia: good cheer, and humbly they serve.

You're good woman, I'm good man

OK, only, like, a month late. I just saw Spiderman 3.
I wrote this about a character from Spiderman 2 right when it came out, and (hooray!) she showed up in the third!
Enjoy.


Ursula

She's thin like a rose stem
and me, bare-handed, pulling weeds
I feel her slide sharp under my skin.
That gold-green stare,
as she turns her blondeness from the oven,
knows more heat than the stove's redhead flames.

She offers her simple passion on a plate:
Chocolate cake made for me,
and a silent, tall glass of milk
thankful to be emptied.
Her Chanel skin glows
into my breath.

If promises were crackers, she would be fat.
Lanky and awkward as any femme fatale,
Ursula Ditkovich lives in some
old New York low-rent high-rise,
therefore, she doesn't matter.

Despite the everyday regrets of heart,
these thorns are not painful.
Spidey decides
that for once he cannot wemble.
That copper-curled girl is forgotten
as he holds his true heroine.

blink

both aquamarine
I felt like I was alone
in seeing them shine.

10 or 15

Translucent
I'm watching raindrops,
each a prizim, spherical,
fortune teller's tool.

Natural
Last night I was strong.
I think that a leaf falling
might envy the seeds.

Signs
Warning: curves ahead;
one way, caution, slow, yield, stop.
thru traffic merge left.

Mr. Dash

What's in Carl's head, kids?
That's right, worries about unrequited love!
Let's flip him upside down, shake him, and see what falls out...

Boom
condensation ice
fudgsicle skin cracks, melts warm.
does it come in blue?

smirk
childhood favorite
spread thickly across white bread.
But something's missing.

6 weeks

http://www.groundhog.org/prediction/

anniadversary
Spring is here again,
since sometimes calendars lie.
Cookies speak more truth.

camp
I like In-N-Out.
cheese, fries, and a choc'late shake.
Better when you share.

passenger
lucid mind mocks me
live those 5 point 2 seconds,
or see ev'rything?

Thetis rectifies

Ties
and rails, parallel only to themselves, and one who runs.
crunching gravel under pressure. Bare feet knock on
pressed Southern Pacific wood. Faster, stronger.
head down, eyes useless. feel the iron horse
snort miles. The line straight, no deceit.
two slats at a time, pistons hammer
their argument to unkind ballast.
Steam is the only perspiration.
Now the yards become feet,
which leave hard friction
and touch steel pilot
machine breach
engine yields
kinetic hate
breaks.

Four-finger fist

Yeah.
Uh huh.
Of course.
Jaws clench.
So, guess what?
I've forgotten how.
It doesn't matter what
it is I've forgot. It's gone.
Mind plays tricks. 52 pickup.
Sick like a smile. Maybe the flu.
Could be regret. Not sure about that.
I swallow. It's empty. My tongue is gone.
maybe carpet the narrow path with my dreams.
Gotta be good for something. You shuffle your feet.
And while walking, you reach for someone else's hand.
Zap.

Ulmo + Nienna

OK, yeah.
I wrote this, like, 3 years ago now. Why am I posting it? I'm sure if you've been reading, you'll catch my drift.

Pacific

The concrete path melts...
And there is only
grass, coast, ocean.

Shoes bite into the juicy sand
like a bitter apple.
Undertow fills the cavities,
leaving foamy circles behind
like dead jellies.

High tides try to drown the shore,
intentions like water, clear.

"Look at the waves," gulls wail,
"teal and sequined,
pristine" their beaks laugh.

The 'glamorous' ocean,
so hollow,
empty like a puppet.

I prefer the rocks.

The skipping stones and gravel
scrape-clunk aloha
as they drift on the shore.
Dull gems better
than De Beers understands.

Some pebbles just shrink
away into the murk,
glad to leave the seaside.
You can't really tell where they go;
in the ocean, I've heard
rocks roll below.

Carved, depleted,
they might return to the
saline breeze,
to rest, finally dry.

Mocked by the sea,
teased by shells,
this sand was once a
boulder.

Now, ground to grains,
scattered and swept,
drifts of snowflakes
that never melt.
The beach swims in from the water,
sun-blonde and tan
like a surfer girl.

I take some home in my shoes,
some inside.