To be in a young America ~
visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July
thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen
films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain
exciting new visions of creating new concepts
before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see
The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood
American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom
How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?
When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles
Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream
leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time
Cereal being a cheap snack for after school
school supplies costing twenty dollars
Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty
before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~
2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp
Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question
The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice
Never forgetting our Motor city
Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye
What happened to us ? Where did America Go ?
Santa, I do confess
I feel a little bit strange
A middle aged man sitting on your knee
Whispering into your ear, my grandest wish
Let us both hope people do not get the wrong idea here
I am at my wits end Dear Santa
All I want for Christmas
Is for her to call me
So that I may here her voice
Like a musical saga
A symphony of Celtic dreams
The honey that flows deep into my heart
The sweetness that grows in my soul
Am I demanding too much?
Of this earthly world
That I, demand heavenly wishes
That I dream in colors unreal
That I cry for things that seem the impossible
The North Pole and all its promise
Oh but I must dream, dream or die
No more dreams
Is death for sure
Let me not be murdered
By a phone that rings not
I am disappointed, no poetry memberships, no phone calls in the night from lovers
No mistletoe even in me dreams, Gaelic winds blow cold over me heart
Id ask for a train set, but the way things are going you’d give me a train wreck
Bloody hell on you Santa, you must be busy helping nice people, cheers anyways
Old man Carter lived all alone, quietly nestled in his quaint little home.
Arthritis kept him crippled, writhing in excruciating pain, his wife long
since departed, leaving him nothing more to gain. His children made
arrangements, to place him in a nursing home. They lacked the
compassion to inform him face to face, knowing he would surely die in
this unfamiliar place. He lost his will to live, life had tragically passed
him by, without his long lost Eleanor, his only hopes were to die. There
he sat in his recliner, a rigid shell of an old man, quietly he uttered to the
Lord,..."Father, forgive me", as he clasped a revolver in his frail, arthritic
hand. Suddenly, an image appeared before him, it was clad in solid white.
Old man Carter could hardly open his eyes, for the radiance was unbearably
bright. Soon, the light diminished, the image's skin was fair. The old man's
eyes began to focus as he observed a figure with long, coarse
hair. The image's eyes were gentle, bearing scars above the brow. Open
wounds the width of nails pierced both its delicate hands. Then, in a soft-
spoken voice it said,..."No more shall ye suffer, old man". "Set aside thy
weapon", the image went on to say,..."You're going home to Eleanor,
upon this Christmas Day". The old man passed on to heaven, he was
discovered the very next day. "Such a tormented soul was he!" That's what
the neighbors would say. It was there on a table beside him, a scribbled
poem which sadly read,...
"Christmas is the day I wed,
The true love of my life;
Christmas is the day I've chosen,
To join my beloved wife
Jesus arrived to take me,
The hour's a quarter past four;
Suicide's never an option,
I'm with Jesus and my sweet Eleanor"...
I do not know?
Fallen snow will remind of me/ it is snowing ...
Slowly as in the dream/
Boy word-beads/ with signs on his spine/
He kisses fine/
Your eyelids /
And it snows ... It snows /so slow/
It does/ and you're thinking of me/
'Coz it's warm/ it's better to stay in warmth/
Waiting for summer dim/
It is snowing/ slowly like in the dream/
Flakes/ go round/ playing the music theme/
You've been looking for rescue/
You searched in wine/
But it's in me/
all the rescues are mine/
It is snowing/ the snow is fluffy and white/
If you see darkness/ I'm deaf and blind/
there's the cast of time/ on the arm/
But I discern the light/
Dreams/ upon your eyelids tips/
Prepare you for winter drowse/
And it snows/
Fallen snow/ will remind of spring /
it will crumble and crackle in vain/
It will snow / fluffy /white/ and slow/
And you'll become whole/
If you chance to see
a wandering snowman
on your way home tonight
Let me know.
The poinsettias have started to wilt, turning dull
The Christmas lights have flickered low into the night
The food has lost its savor
Gifts have been opened
Blurry are my windows now
As snow continues to hide
My precious snowman from plain site.
If you chance to meet
My wandering snowman
On your way home tonight
Stop for a moment and play with him.
Share a candy. Make him smile
Make him a paper airplane. Make him beam and laugh.
Hug and kiss him for me. Warm his heart.
It's all a lost mother would ask
If you chance to experience
My wandering snowman
On your way home tonight
Please send him home
to a warm Christmas with me.
It's all that I ask.
Christmas was always about God for me,
It was memories, inner fullness…Begotten-Boy.
Because God was the point, God’s Son died bravely.
Christmas was about giving pure heart’s bouquet.
Finding dreams, wishes, and bringing home joy,
Christmas was always about God for me.
Father’s gift held the secret of wisdom set free
Of hoping and caring and loving enjoyed.
It is about God, Calvary, and forgiveness, you see.
When December wonder is past, does Christ flee?
Flee from the soul, leaving one on self to rely, lost envoy -
Truth. Christmas was always about God for me.
Once a year Christmas marks God’s gift sent for me.
By faithfully gluing my lost self to Jesus, I found joy.
Because God sacrificed His Son, I am set free.
I know that in heaven there was great jubilee.
When this hollowed out husk of me, by sin destroyed
Found Christmas to be about God and me.
I know it is so; my faith sets me free.
© July 29, 2010
Written for the “Critcise ME, Take mY Verse & Turn it inside out Make YOUR own! Contest” Sponsored by:
Deborah Guzzi POEM SELECTED: “Christmas Blues”, which she posted on July 19, 2010
When their very young dad went to jail,
they surely lived in a realistic Hell...
I would hear the youngest one cry over an article she read.
Who had taken her daddy away was too cruel;
nothing they said would make her understand,
why didn't the harsh judge break some rule?
The judge's sentence was based on actual fact,
no pleads from the children softened her hard heart as she read the sentence,
" He committed this crime to feed his family so ashamed of his act,
and even dragged his younger brother along to help him steal by cutting fences. "
Then she made an eye-opening statement, " I must abide by the Law,
I am a judge of justice and fairness...not much I can do in this case;
let him behave and his sentence will be reduced in ten years. "
Everyone in the courtroom started to sob...tears began to flow.
I visited them often, and they seemed different people who couldn't admit
what he did was wrong, assuming he was innocent;
their smiles became cheerless, their words loveless:
a part of them was taken away, lost to hopelessness...
the younger daughter locked herself into her room,
refused to talk to anyone and building that wall deepened her gloom.
Even this year they will not celebrate Christmas with the old thrill,
shopping for presents in crowded malls has lost that excited will,
not even the merriest Santa can make them smile with a jingle bell;
and he must think that they are strange kids who don't love the Holidays,
perhaps reading them the Nativity Story will change their moody ways...
and to bring this family together will take patience and lots of prayers.
How would I ask Jesus, the new-born, who would love to see these kids at midnight?
They must show love to make this miracle happen on Christmas Eve; it has to start
with a heartfelt wish and deep faith, then the Heavens will suddenly open up...
as angels will descend to sing the hymn they sang before they desperately wept.
I do not know?
T'was the night before Christmas
And all through the house not a single noise could
For, you see, the only one up
Had practise of being quiet
even when she's screaming inside
With hand over mouth,
and tears streaming down her face
She silently sobbed the night away
The only festive colour running from her wrists
The only thing she wanted for Christmas
Was to be dead.
UNSUPPORTED CODE What If… Christmas Never Came???
What if Christmas never happened?
What if Christmas never came?
Things around here would be different!
It wouldn’t be the same!
What if the baby Jesus was never born in a manger?
Mankind would be in serious trouble. We’d all be in danger!
If the baby Jesus wasn’t born. There would be no nativity.
We wouldn’t be able to display this during our “festivity.”
It’s almost like this now!
It’s an “ever increasing business.”
It seems like nearly everyone wants
“Christ out of Christmas!”
Why does it seem like Christmas is
losing it’s true meaning?
The very words; “Merry Christmas,”
seem to be quickly disappearing!
Many say; “Happy Holiday.”
They worry they may “offend.”
Having a “holiday” without Christ….
We need to put Jesus Christ back into
our CHRISTmas season!
He is what Christmas is about! HE is the very reason!
May we all take some time to rejoice in our savior’s birth.
May there be shouts of JOY! From the corners of the earth!
Let’s not take Christ out of our joyous celebration!
We need him so much right now!
All over this great nation!
May we bring to him a heart of love
for everything he’s done.
As we bring honor to Christ. God’s precious son!
May we continually offer to him a heart filled with praise!
Not only at Christmas time… But all of our days!
By Jim Pemberton
A time for dreams, for presents and cheer
Or perhaps to reflect on the passing year
A time for each to give and share
With the ones we love, to show we care
The Christmas message is spread around
But tis sometimes lost in lights and sound
When that little boy was manger born
With no great fanfare or trumpeting horn
A boy so destined to bring great hope, belief
And to a troubled world some faint relief
But the message he spread as he grew older
Is lost in hype as our hearts grow colder
But it's time again to hear what he had to say
Because we need some hope in this modern day
A message of freedom, of life and love
A belief in eternity with God above
As you open your gifts and Christmas presents
Think of just what this day represents
Love, life, time with family and friends
He gave his life on a cross to see it never ends
So remember this during your time together
A life with Him goes on forever
And as you celebrate His birth with great cheer
Recall He is watching over you, all through the year.
I wrote about the love thats in your eyes,
The love I hold for you in each smile
And then, I feel the sting of your hand,
And the cut of your words,
That slices me like a knife through paper,
A serated blade.
And for what,
Because I had to go in early,
Because I lost your e-cigerette,
Though you've lost mine six billion times,
Which is why I no longer have it.
Because I wasnt fast enough to give you your smokes.
Just so you can ruin Christmas for me,
Like you ruined my Birthday,
Like my mother ruined my life.
Oh how you would love to know,
That Ive just compared you to the one woman you hate,
You utterly despise,
And yet you treat me the exact way she did,
With bitter words,
And a hand that hits,
And no regard for the tears I cry.
And to think,
This started off as a good morning,
With hugs and kisses,
snuggles in bed,
Five more minutes,
We were both sleepyheads,
You said Merry Christmas eve,
And I said it first,
It started as a good day,
For all it was worth.
Christmas seems to be lost in a commercial haze,
and hearts freeze over any retail deal.
Human kindness ebbs in greed's burning fire,
while good will toward people seems less real.
Whatever happened to the true Christmas spirit
and why has greed's spell taken hold of human hearts?
The holiday season seems less merry now,
as the gift of brotherly love is run over by millions of shopping carts.
Has the heavenly light of Christmas love
been lost to the darkness of commercial gifts?
Souls seem to latch on to these material things,
ignoring the wounds made from these man made drifts.
Has the holiday season lost the Christmas glow
that once flourished in love's golden night.
The mad rush that Christmas now brings,
tells me that human kind has lost its Christmas sight.