Best Passing Out Poems
He poked the sleepy fire
Then sat back in his chair
Removed his reading glasses
Brushed back his cotton hair
A quick glance out the window
Wishing for a reprieve
Hoping someone might drop by
On this lonely Christmas Eve
He heard some people caroling
Strains of "Oh Holy Night"
Gave his dog a pat
Eyes watered at the twinkling lights
The fire crackling, glowing red
Tired eyes of a similar hue
He drifted off to sleep
To the silent late night news
While the old man slept
An angel came a calling
She lightly kissed his head
In dreams the snow was falling
He saw a little boy
In pajamas all excited
A Lionel train circling the tree
A new bicycle parked beside it
The stockings hung the night before
Were stuffed with candy and treats
Everyone was unwrapping gifts
Their love providing the heat
His mom was there on the sofa
Her face so young and pretty
His Santa Clause dad, passing out presents
Trying to be joyful and witty
He saw his brother and sister
A long ago Christmas day
Sharing an old fashioned Christmas
In their family old fashioned way
As he dreamed he began to smile
The angel was standing by
She bent to kiss him again
A tear escaped her eye
The old man sagged in his chair
A big smile on his face
There would be no more lonely Christmases
They were together again in one place
by Daniel Turner
Even though
It was so long ago
It still holds the place in my heart
The one I reserved for special moments
with him
The times before his health
got the best of our relationship
Back when my grandpa
was able to be my
grandpa
It was my first parade
and one of his last
The Halloween of
2006.
There was
tigers
and lions
and bear
oh my.
but there was also the usual
witches, and monsters
but most importantly
there was my grandpa.
He volunteered to help
with the small monsters
of classroom 301 that year
which would also be his last
so he was able to walk with his
even if he kept stopping
to pick up candy
along the way.
walking with him
along the crowded streets
past the sirens of the firetrucks
and over the steep hills
will forever beat any memory
of
trick or treating
passing out candy
or the endless Halloween parties
for that was just a moment to enjoy
now that his old age has hit him
hard
there's no more walking
no more dressing up for Halloween
just to see a smile on the face of
his grandchildren
his little monsters
That moment will forever hold my heart
ten years ago was
the last time
this witch
had her
nun
of a grandfather
walk beside her
One year I spent Halloween in New York City.
O Henry was the name of my taxi driver. I told
him to Take 5 while I stopped in a candy store
for some favorite candies to give out for the
Trick or treaters I would encounter that night.
My kids always loved Skittles and Nerds, but
my husband prefers Kit Kat bars Now and Later.
My choice has always been Mounds because I
adore coconut. I paid the Chunky clerk and hurried
back to to the taxi with my arms full of candy.
It was already twilight as we passed 5th Avenue.
Mr. Goodbar, my boss, was waiting for me at the
hotel as we drove down an older Rocky Road.
I was on a business trip, but I had time off to
enjoy the evening on Halloween. I got into my
Jolly Rancher costume. Pay Day left me with
plenty of funds to give out candy to every kid
making the rounds on the streets, so I intended
to have a candy Spree with lots of Snickers.
Some of the kids were little Smarties, but I still
had fun passing out a Skor, Bar None. I passed
Three Musketeers in gorgeous costumes on the
street and as the night wore on and the Air Heads
began to get scary, I had enough. I had Zero
candy left anyway. I walked back to the hotel like
a Slo Poke gazing up at our Galaxy, the Milky Way,
and I viewed a Starburst which capped my night
with Almond Joy!
10-10-18
How Sweet It Is Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Carol Connell
She holds my hand like I’d never
wake up after passing -out and drinking
one last lick from a broken bottle, only to
find myself needing another round of gin.
Yet, my woman cuddles me as if this
hair isn't filthy even though I haven't
hit the showers, even though I can’t
take my body to rest, to act functional.
And she gleams like she can't smell
the reek of alcohol I am breathing…
how my heart aches for the last time
her mouth kissed me on the face
after I broke a promise I couldn’t
possibly fulfill-- a lowlife freak, rogue of a man,
disappearing into bars and more bars
to silence fears so I cannot hear
old ghosts on the walls, in nightmares,
within her embrace,
… but still
I can’t love myself the same way that
she loves me like I never
screamed,
denied,
told her to go lose herself,
banging the door--
telling her that she was worse
than my compulsive urge.
She loves me -- a reckless quirk--
believing I will see THAT day
when I can Change.
.......................
11.17.2016
Creep Contest for Silent One
Who was this white haired Claus
With rabbit teeth?
Carrying a ton of peanuts
For all to eat.
Dragged in a sleigh pulled
By Agnew and Nixon,
Who ran right beside
Donnar and Blitzen?
He circled Camp David,
A fast fly by;
With lox and bagels for
the Jewish guys.
A carpenters’ pencil
Was poised by his ear,
And boxes of nails dangled,
From the gear in the rear.
Why! Its Jolly Ole Carter Claus
Draped in menorahs.
Handing out home plans to
the Arab before us.
Visions of world peace
Danced in his head;
As, he flew straight to Afghanistan
‘Fore noggin hit bed.
When down from the sky
In the form of deer dung,
Fell fruit tree seeds
Too be sown in the sun.
And, as CarterClaus’ whip cracked
O’er Nixon's ear,
As Agnew blanched,
His eyes filling with tears.
Droplets hit sand with
A plop and a splatter
’Pon the fruit tree seeds with
Nary a clatter.
The desert grew green;
Trees sprouted and grew;
Hearts filled with wonder,
Bellies with stew.
Homes were rebuilt,
as before the fall,
Cook fires were lit.
Children grew tall.
And Ole Carter Claus
Flew home in a daze.
Passing out sandwiches
That Roslyn had made.
Expectant fathers will often pace
Until nurse invites them into
A bright delivery suite
To see their baby born;
Before they see birth
Of their newborn,
Some are out
Cold on
Floor.
Soon,
Revived
Father acts
Like all is well,
Soon, is eagerly
Passing out souvenirs
Announcing their fatherhood
Like they did all of the hard work
Bringing new baby into the world!
June 11, 2021
Dedicated to my fourth great-grandchild!
Shedding Feathers
One by Two
By Two and Three
And Three keeps shedding
because there is more,
Divine Feathers
which held and defined His soul.
He let them be White,
Paper White,
but proud as a Knight,
fighting enemies and Holy battles
on a destrier with a saddle.
He let himself be unconquered,
His Soul intact.
Many brawls and fights won
though corroding shield and armor,
a warrior with no starmer
and no history,
no claim.
Lest those feathers shed,
which claimed his immortality,
from slight gray to slate
they precariously turned.
'Here are feathers'
he somberly called his
Dear Friends,
fledging each one.
'Let me come down and drink
and give alms.
I'll soil myself and shed my feathers.'
he roared
while his friends cheered.
'I give thee my own soul'
he said almost passing out,
'to which one and two i hope you do enjoy.
My Plumage is with me No More
but forever with you evermore.'
I went for a swim early one summer morning in the ocean
The waves were rough, crashing with powerful motion
As I dove into the waves, I lost my balance and hit my head
I choked on salt water, couldn’t catch my breath as I bled
I struggled with the current, being pulled out as I sank
Deeper under the water, fighting as more salt water I drank
I knew then I was passing out and was starting to drown
No one is out here, I hope someone sees me, comes around
I then opened my eyes and saw a beautiful woman with long glistening hair
She had an angelic face, a perfect physique and glittery blue fins she did wear
She warmly smiled as she grabbed my hands and pulled me into an embrace
She then swam me to shore and quickly left me on the beach in a safe place
A lifeguard came running to my rescue and started to press on my chest
I came to while coughing out salt water, feeling exhausted, needing to rest
I asked if he saw the beautiful mermaid on the beach who rescued me today
The lifeguard laughed and said no, and that my delirium will soon go away
9/21/19
Contest: MERMAIDS Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
You can drive your fancy cars
Living it up like movie stars
While small children have nothing to eat
No place to live no light no heat
Hopeless drunks living like dogs
Passing out sleeping like logs
While you sip your fancy wine
Pretending everything is fine
But I know that you feel the guilt
And as you watch your garden wilt
Remember the little starving child
Lost in a world neither meek nor mild
Or the drunk stinking and ill
For the bottle he will kill
You wonder if the child ate
If his parents show love or hate
Is the drunk a friend or foe?
He's not himself he's sunk so low
You're not better than us all
You're still human you'll still fall
Don't forget us while you're great
We don't need anymore hate
Hey man
Why are you always on my mind
Here and there, once again
I can't relax ' cause of you
Hey man
Why are you as hot as that bright light
I feel like that damn butterfly
Attracted by the cruel fire
I'm close to you, my thoughts are full
Of lovely vicious things
We feel it clear, we are almost near
"impress me" is our theme
Hey man
Why are you holding me so tight
You say a word - I have goosebumps
You're so close - I'm passing out
Hey man
Why am I loving you so loud
I use your name as talisman
I dive deeply into your charm
I know that everybody has their own stars*
Their own stars
Their own stars
You are my stars
The universe conspired to help me find us**
Find us
Find us
I've found us
* "The little prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
** "The alchemist" by Paulo Coelho
Twas the night before Christmas
And try as I may
I’d never be done
By the break of next day.
The stockings weren’t hung
Hell, they weren’t even knit
And the children in bed?
No, they’re throwing a fit!
And me in my kerchief
And Kmart house coat
Was testing a Holiday
Ice Cream-tini float.
When what to my
Bloodshot eyes should appear
But my absentee husband
With two cases of beer!
His eyes, how they glistened
His laughter, how scary
His walk was zig zag
His nose a red cherry!
He spoke not a word
(We last spoke in ought-eight)
But climbed up in my trailer
Like I’d cigs on rebate.
Then laying a finger
Inside of his nose
He belched and he farted
And took off his clothes.
But I heard him exclaim
‘Ore passing out for the night,
“Merry Christmas to All!
Can I have Newport Lite?”
November 28, 2018
Toasty mornings with teakettles whistling bring to mind Danish days on Marata’s
horse farm, ponies prancing in the unusually warm sunlight, and new fangled
sparkling silver water fountains. Mirada, Karen and Laura’s Mom hosted Bob, Jamie
and I for a summer vacation. We had just settled into the whitewashed kitchen
when the problem was presented to us. For years the housed herd of guest horses
had been watered by filling lovely old white porcelain cast iron tubs which had been
scattered all over the rolling green fields of the farm in Faum.
Mirada had the forward thinking idea of saving farm hand time [and her the hourly
wage] of piping water to these beautiful horses with new fountains! Yes, my
lovelies, all you have to do is push your nose right here. Out bubbles crisp cool clean
water, minus the dead flies, which often drowned in the old tub! Seems horses are
very suspicious. Nope the herd was having none of it. Soon, if not cajoled, they
would be passing out from lack of water in the Danish summer’s heat. What foreign
creature had replaced their friendly old white tub of water? Where was their water?
They saw no water. Sure there was a scent of it from that pole but “What the
heck?” snorted the black stallion shaking his head at the girls.
We were told there would be no breakfast, lunch or dinner for us until we helped
get those horses watered. So off we went, shuffling our feet to a meet and greet
with the herd. Marata and the girls knew the horses. We almost knew a horse from
a cow. I went right up to this large black beauty, pet his nose and rubbed my cheek
on his face, love at first sight! Blackie started following me and we walked toward
the fountain. Then the sun glanced off the dreaded thing and he shied. I pushed the
control, filled my hands with water and brought him some. Lordy, lordy he drank
from my hands! The herd behind him whinnied. I tried to get him nearer the fountain
but it was a no, go. He’d drink from my hands but not the fountain. It just goes to
show you, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink, is really
TRUE!
*The next morning Laura begged her own pony AGAIN to drink. He finally did the rest did too then ;)
It was snowing, and in the middle of a great big storm… as…
Another storm raged on, inside our dear, sweet little Dragon,
His penguins so care free, were now chasing after, you see…
The great Dragon Country Western Singer and Star, ‘Drago’!
Yep, they wanted autographs from that OTHER musical Guy!
Dressed up in country attire, as they two-stepped, down the hall.
So Dragon put on his cowboy boots and hat, and other fine stuff…
And caterwauled, in competition! Low and behold, surprising us all!
We fell, begged, & prayed for Dragon, to stop, what he was a doing.
He thought he was, grander than grand, for us to be bowing and cooing.
In truth, we were merely, passing out, from traumatic exhaustion!
As he stopped we tackled him, to the ground, which was the only option.
He was so happy; to have such devoted fans, swarm over him, instead!
He was rushed into a sound proof room, to record for YouTube, we said.
In mercy to all, we turned off the sound, so he unknowingly, lip-synced.
Yep, to Drago’s song! Low and behold! He got 50 million hits, I am told.
With so much acclaim, for the video! Royalties roared in, so we decided.
To rent a big bus, to take us, next summer, to see our new friend Drago!
So beware, there’s still time, to get out of town! This truly is, a warning.
I impart, and if he tries to sing again, have a soundproof room a waiting!
And between you two, in a music video, you and Drago will be set for life!
Don’t forget, the penguins, want to dance, in the video with their idols.
Isn’t it amazing, how stories can unfold, to quiet, the WORST of storms?
But Beware, two Dragons, bring bigger storms, than one alone can form!
Written 2-28-2015
When Europeans first came to America, it seemed to be their role...
To reach out with both hands, for all the goods and lands they stole.
When our nation was founded by men of vision...
They spoke out, their king showed them nothing but derision.
The colonization by troops and taxes imposed were so unfair...
Liberty from him was declared, fought for, and taken from there.
The thefts of that king were small by any means...
To the way we have treated our fellow Americans.
We continued to take the Indians' lands...
Never thinking twice, of the blood on our hands.
We greeted the black man with whip and chains...
Can we ever remove the ghosts of their pains?
Yes, we drenched our land red with blood to set them free...
But prejudice remains, even after more than a century.
We have helped set so many peoples free with our aid in war...
Have we forgotten at home, just what was fought for?
"Ours is the greatest country" we tend to shout...
Yet, the Ugly American still lurks about.
The world watches us with wonder and awe...
Many hate or envy us, because of our human nature's flaw.
Many cast for hope, but reel in despair...
The things we do to others, we must do with better care.
The Greatest Generation the world will ever know...
Is slowly dying, their life's light passing out, as darkening embers go.
If our nation should have learned anything...
It must be that millions suffer to have Freedom's Ring.
Our understanding and compassion will go a long way...
To let them see, the "Ugly American's " face, as not so ugly one day.
Prayers descend like acid rain from
oligarch-soaked manchurians, stumping
for elected office, praising hybrid
demigods, passing out vouchers to the
peasants.
A slow rumbling-
part of the night-sounds-of-curfew;
descends like fire ants.
Cleaners of the guilt, hidden in plain faith,
unable or unwilling to walk, feign
blindness, darkness helps.
Cellphone towers only reflect scripted
light, as memories of real sunshine, fade
to black. A good cup of coffee is hard to
find, all the fine beans were swept away
early on, replaced by dancing bears,
politely ignored. Thunderclouds, imagined
in shapes of our founding fathers,
encourage the deluge, slowly ascending.
Underground-
a grim band-of-believers watch (again)
a pirated tape of their favorite '80's movie,
'They Live' from the fabled city called the
new capital in 'The Postman' Minneapolis..
while the tormented sounds of-
plows
scraping overhead, and
hydrants,
bellys full, feeding power washers,
cascade
over hardened
faces.
05/11/14
minneapolis
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