Christmas is an empty thing

featured in the poetry forum December 24, 2017  :: 0 comments

(with thanks to Irving Berlin)

The season ‘tis!
The reason is
Anybody’s guess
This yuletide mess
Is a neon Noel
Market place hell
It’s an empty shell
With no content or core
Lights strung
Jingles sung
Libations poured
Meaning muddled
Paganized for some
Who think it should be pure
The rest of us aren’t sure
This annual affliction
Our sad predilection
For routine capitulations
Of spontaneity
This spell
Of greed and gaiety
This contrived community
Of givers on the take
This holiday break
To stimulate and validate
The market prerogative
“No interest for 90 days”
An interesting immersion
In commercial collusion
To propagate the illusion
That all is calm, all is bright
A negligible credit risk
To make giving good
Good for business
Good for nothing
If not good cheer
With good will to all
Good gracious, god in heaven!
Good night!

Christmas should be white!
White, like nothing!
White, like emptiness
Waiting to be filled.

Rip away wrap and ribbon
Take off top and tilt to side
Shake it out
To spill on floor
Leave no more
The stuff which stifles your
Peace
Your presence
Your possibilities

Yes,
Christmas should be white!

Empty with anticipation
Hollow, but hopeful
A happy readiness
A welcoming wait-fulness
Waiting for you to fill it
With your
Colors
And company
And consequence
And dreams…

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know…
May your days be merry and bright,
And may all your Christmases
Be white.

editors note: Thanks to MH for shinin' a fine yuletide light on the righteousness of divine whitenesses! ("Hey Siri, play Bing's 'White Christmas'"...) ~ Johnny Olson

Christmas Quandary

featured in the poetry forum December 18, 2016  :: 0 comments

In the beginning
There was god…

Then came questions

Man likes answers
Likes invention
There’s the devil in our dogma
In our absolutes, oppression

Our best rubrics
Have the best marketing
All our attentions are captured and directed
Where the market needs them to be

Then someone tells a joke
And we laugh
Sings a song
And we’re filled
With happiness
Good will

So, why not a handshake?
A kind word?
Yes, this season manipulates merry
Into goods, for the good of commerce
Which is, of course, good for all

But, let’s make it what we want
Wonder
Welcome
Warm wishes

Turn our myths to mirth
Our markets to magnanimity
Homogenous happiness and harmony

So…

An elf, a reindeer and a rastafarian
Walk into a bar
The bartender says,
“We don’t serve reindeer in here!”
The rasta says,
“Dat’s OK, Mon! I’m not hungry.”

The elf says,
“I don’t get out much these days,
It’s nice to get away.”
The rasta says,
“No, Mon? I’d o’ thought
Workin’ for da Santa Man would be
A walk in da park.”

“You don’t know what it’s like,” says the elf.
“We work ‘round the clock for no pay.
Santa says we should be happy with the knowledge
That we are bringing joy to all those children.
Well, I got lots of joy,
But, you’re gonna have to buy the drinks,
Cuz I’m broke.”

The rasta says, “Wow, Mon!
I thought you elf types were rich, rich, rich.
Santa don’t pay you?”
The elf says,
“Santa may be jolly, but he’s a cheap bastard.”

The reindeer says nothing,
Because reindeer can’t talk.

That would be ridiculous.

Merry Christmas!

editors note: 'tis the season to give 'til it hurts. But it doesn't have to be? Can you imagine putting bows and ribbons on homogenous happiness and harmony and calling them gifts? Yep, I can too. Thanks for the cockle warming, MH! ~ johnny o

Regrets

featured in the poetry forum May 4, 2016  :: 0 comments

Gently lift the quivering quelled
Slowly peel the shivering shell
Expose the wound
Raw revealed
The hurt inflicted
Mercy appealed
But not granted

Pain long borne
Long dulled, forgotten
Actions bent
And misbegotten
Scars, bled badges
Spoils spent
Benefits rotten
Moldering
Wizened wisps of smoke
Long smoldering
Now stanched

The air is dank
And thick
The deeds darkened
No more quick
The rain-washed slick
Reflects
No more
The light of avarice and greed

What’s dead is dead
Indeed

Now, move on

Or be still

editors note: We can wallow in our sorrows but in the end all we get is a whole lot of grief & bottomless regrets. Best to do what Poetry Editor MH suggests & move on... ~ Johnny Olson

Nova Annum

featured in the poetry forum January 1, 2015  :: 0 comments

Ring in the Nova
Reverberate through
This cosmic chasm
A primal song of joy

The very first chord
Struck at the very first
Downbeat
Of the divine baton

Stare confidently forward
Up to a star filled sky
Each a frenetic
Photon prophet

Future portends
Inevitable collision
With past
A clash to cancel
Both sides of the equation

Into null
Into now

Now is a beginning
Now is a first step
Now is blinking into an early dawn
Now is the first tongue-stammered word

Now is Nova Annum

editors note: Let the countdown begin! 10... 9... 8... on course for a head-on collision of cosmic proportions between what was and what will be happening. When? Right here and right... 3...2... 1... - jo

Marvelous Days

featured in the poetry forum November 2, 2014  :: 0 comments

Mundane, yet marvelous
These days, these hours
These distasteful diversions
They, too, have taste to
Broaden the palate
Bring each day to light
To linger on the tongue

Learning is limned
In my luminous limitations
These shackles adorn me
Then, cold splash, face slap
They warn me –
Alive be, awake!
“Should the night
My soul to take”

Quotidian quiescence
Stupefies
Effort’s required
To open sleepy eyes
The day is bright
The hours ahead, right
And rightly met

These are marvelous days

editors note: 'tis marvelous days indeed when our Poetry Editor puts on his porkpie hat & prances thru our poetry forum speakin' upon the pompitous of keepin’ that eternal party goin’! - jo

Gifting

featured in the poetry forum December 25, 2013  :: 0 comments

Would you like to give me a gift; something special?
Something which cannot be boxed, wrapped, returned with receipt
Or re-sold to the highest bidder?

Give me:
• Your attention
• Your concern
• Your acceptance
• Your tolerance
• Your laughter
• Your trust
• Your best wishes

Any one of these is a gift I would treasure
Any one of these would make me happy beyond measure
Any one of these deserves my best in return
Any one of these

So, would you?
Not sure?

OK, I’ll give you mine first…

editors note: Wait… you don’t want the latest e-gadget? You really don’t want us to spend lots of money to show you how much you mean to us? Whoa! Oh wait... me thinks our Poetry Editor gets it! The truest gift we can give is the giving of ourselves to our family, friends and fellow mad ones. What a concept! Hopefully it catches on… - jo

Fakin’ It

December 7, 2013  :: 0 comments

Half gypsy
Half Geronimo

Half grown
Half-wits
Half drunk and
Half hearted
Half hoping

She
Half means it

© 2013

Commerce

December 7, 2013  :: 0 comments

For red-striped notoriety
And shopkeeper recognition

Not always guaranteed
But more likely indulged
By the clout
Of one’s credit card

© 2013

Earthward Plummet

December 7, 2013  :: 0 comments

There’s an eagle
Talon tethered
To a rotted roosting perch

No place to play
To the safe crowd

No one watches
Nor cares
For a fizzled out
Failure of foisted fears

Packaged and imputed
To predestination

© 2013

Cold Turkey

featured in the poetry forum December 7, 2013  :: 0 comments

Cold turkey is a bitch
For the addicted epicure

Take away the wonder
Of art
And all that’s left

Is bug infested mattress
And cold cinder block
Walls

© 2013

editors note: Is this a case of being sick and tired of eating yesterday’s chilled leftovers? Or, perhaps the public’s palate has been spoiled by processed sustenance disguised as art? Either way, their fat belly's are rumblin', their hungry mouths are open, and their cold, steely knives are pointed at you! - jo