Best Balsam Poems
There once was a little balsam
who was growing green and free,
And he hoped that he'd be taken
to be used as a Christmas tree.
He'd spent all of his early years
growing tall and full and straight,
The greenest fir in the nursery,
thus insuring his joyous fate.
It happened on Thanksgiving Day,
when a family came to choose
That proud and towering balsam,
so they paid his nursery dues.
To home, they took the little fir,
to adorn his spreading boughs
With pretty lights and ornaments,
and a chorus of "ahs" and "wows".
And there he stood, quite diligent,
through the holidays and nights,
Stunning with his proud display,
and his dazzling yule delights.
"Best tree on the street!" said all
through Christmas and New Years,
Until ... one day the family took
him down, not shedding tears.
And tho' he'd served them ardently,
it seemed his time was done,
For off came all the shiny trim,
all the garland, bulbs and fun.
They had treated him so kindly
in the weeks of Christmas, past,
Yet now they tossed him to the curb -
seemed their good will ... didn't last.
The trash truck carried him away,
with his limbs now dead and dry,
His tears of sap dripped on the street,
his boughs waved sad, goodbye,
For Christmas trees are blessings,
but there's always a price to pay -
An early end to the grandest life,
in a landfill ... cold and gray.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Contest 530 Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 6th Place ~ in the "Christmas Tree" Poetry Contest, Shadow Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.
Each of my limbs is meant for adorning
With beautiful lights and jolly decorations
Ribbons flow around me, never warning
This is the time when love touches in sensations
I still remember the joy of the squirrels and birds
When I lived in the forest, beside the oaks I love
For the ache in my heart, there are really no words
But I must sacrifice my quiet life for the One above
He is worth more than many of my green hands
I am only one of this Jesus’ many fans!
(DEDICATED TO MARTIN BALSAM WHO DIED FEBRUARY 13, 1996.)
You starred in Psycho as Mister Arbogast.
You were a great actor in the past.
You starred in Archie Bunker's place with Carroll O'Connor.
When other actors worked with you, it was indeed an honor.
When you died, it was something that people would regret.
The contribution that you made is something that nobody will forget.
My climbing rope is broken
better fix it
said the excitable culprit
A praying mantis was in my sandwich
it provided a challenge
crunch crunch went my dentures
Please don't force the hyacinths
let them blossom in their own time
Please don't be too eager again
If your fingers grow stiff
ply them with balsam
if not rub them with ash
Teddy bear don't let the shadows get you
Depend on somebody
Watch over for the angels
we never meet
She hears again his guttural sob
as he orgasms behind her.
Between his muscles and her anima -
butter and balsam.
She spreads herself,
makes herself parts to be used.
Afterward,
his hurried dressing,
his indifferent coldness.
Then, as usual, he leaves her
for that bony
with halitosis.
One cigarette after another;
she draws the smoke into her lungs,
into her belly, feels the fumes
turning to vengeful wraiths.
She opens drawers
tossing his clothes,
anything that smells of him.
She wants to write letters,
raw accusatory letters
to his pride --- his bull-S soul
She imagines following him,
demanding violent sex
just to use him up.
One last warm splash,
one more flick of her wrist,
then turning away swiftly,
deleting him out of her life
forever.