~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At first, it was just a tremor~
the way sunlight hesitated
before touching the floorboards.
Then the clocks stopped.
Not all at once, but one by one,
as if agreeing silently
to let time unravel.
Now the house breathes
in slow, uneven sighs.
The walls exhale memories~
fragments of laughter,
the ghost of a shout,
the scent of burnt toast
from a breakfast forgotten.
Outside, the wind carries
the voices of the departed.
Their laughter curls
like chimney smoke,
dissolving into cold air.
Let the the sacrifices we made not vanish in vein
Let the blood that was poured burn like the woods on the fireplace and fruits of their generosity be seen like the smoke from the chimney
May the good Lord wash away the pain from our hearts but not the scars from our souls
So that we might remember the work of the precious souls we lost
May the smell of their grief reach the heart of the Almighty like the smoke of the accepted burnt sacrifice.
May the chimney remind us of your good work and dispose the pain like the bad smoke.
Woodsmoke
Sweet, resin pine
Rising, drifting, curling
Comforting warm chimney fragrance
Autumn.
Praisin' Kringle,
jolly old Nick--
for last year's
Christmas
found smashed gifts.
Cause pop-pop
suspects,
dad's stuck again--
inside our
sooty chimney.
Santa got stuck in a narrow long chimney.
Struggled, wiggled for hours to get himself free!
He let out a Loud blast!
Landed on his Big Ass!
His reindeer were laughing Hysterically!
Michael Tor
In days gone by, people said the pipe cleaner
or the black wandering man
with shackles and dirty brushes
When he arrived at the house
in Grand Street number seventeen
A small boy opened the door
He stood wide-eyed
and measuring the big black-clad scary man
who smiled with unusually white teeth in a dirty face
Chains and brushes forged from steel he wore
"Hi, do you remember me from last year ?"
"No, the boy said
but the priest has told a lot about you
on Sundays at the church"
It looks dilapidated and alone
On luscious greenland
All that is left is a brick chimney
Of a house once so grand
Bricks laid hundreds of years ago
Now lay scattered on the ground
Yet the chimney still stands strong and proud
With fallen house remnants all around
Such raw beauty is that old chimney
From a once beloved home
Memories and that old chimney
Is all that lives there now silent and alone!
flying all day long
feeds entirely on insects...
fast-flittering flocks
SECOND PLACE WINNER
written March 14, 2022
for "Bird Haiku" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Tania Kitchin
5-7-5 syllables checked with HMS
Santa Claus did not dare yell, wiggle, move or shout.
Kicking his feet over and over in convoluted pain.
Reindeer heard and ran in to helpfully pull him out.
Now he carries glass cutters to open a client’s window pane.
tree tops now falling
down as summer leaves
a cold wind drifting
The Chimney Sweeper
by Anna O’Hora-Bimbot
Do you know somebody like me?
Covered in soot
Tired and weary
Nobody to care for me “deary”
I travel by foot
I pull myself up
Before the day turns to dawn
I shiver and shake
Stomach rumbling, I yawn
I keep my mouth shut
And I follow my boss
High on the roof tops
I’m scared but there are no buts
My hair they have shaved
So the flames won’t singe
I slide down the funnel
They don’t care that I cringe
My name is Tom Sild
I’ll soon be seven
I’m a chimney sweep child
My work is no heaven
Do you know somebody like me?
Santa was not having very good luck
While in a chimney his mask became stuck
He hollered and tried to yell
But it was muffled and fell
Then had to chew his mask free full of guck
12/07/2020
Contest: Santa's Covid Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Carolyn DevonShire
Syllable counts 10, 10, 7, 7, 10
Ashes were dancing in the air
Children played the music
Up the chimney, smoke appeared
Down the chimney, a child became lucid
No screams came from the house
Clean faces of apathy
Shouts rose and spread chaos
Dirty faces of agony
A black cloud settled above the village
Men marched with torches
No one could live with the image
But the white men in porches
There once was a boy called Kye
Who liked to get ever so high
So he climbed to the top
Of the big chimney pot
Then jumped as he thought he could fly!
The kids were all ready for Christmas
While under the tree sat their wish lists--
Heard a big rumble
From a big tumble--
Seems it was the chimney that Kris missed
They ran out to see the commotion
Witnessed Santa downing a potion--
Their eyes grew so wide
That in came the tide--
Their gifts floated in on the ocean!
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