Halloween gremlins three arrived at eight
Are we late? They asked. Are we late?
I knew they were ready to go trick-or-treating.
Right on time I told them, in the way of greeting
They got lots of cheers going house to house as three
inhabitants thought they were in costume; oh my, oh, me
I knew they were from wicked Ville way down under
But I said nothing, not wanting to steal anyone’s thunder
340.
The Revenge of Match Girl
Never will I allow myself to die in this dim zone
Though the snowy night freezes me to the bone
I will not expire this way all alone!
Come with me my selfish & cold community
As I warm your houses alongwith thee
You also deserve to burn alongwith me!
So rise now, oh match girl and show them your wrath
This is the moment to bring this town to its blood bath
Add pain, subtract life, multiply death, divide homes – perfect math!
Oh little matches, let's begin with this dry barn – our chance
Let us confound these creatures from exit to entrance
Dodge with my army of flames as they try to advance
From house to house as we paint the town red
Like the fires of hell, like the blood of head
Like the wrath of volcano, like roses on bed
Burn! Leave no trace of this rotten civilization
This is the night of its fated extinction
Watch the Revenge of Match Girl in fullest demonstration!
-02/19/2015
(Dumarao)
*Opposite Endings Collection
Too tempting, the new fallen snow.
Twilight’s twinkling, curious glow.
First the pines chuckled and slid;
down the hill slow then too fast.
The houses’ windows agape,
twisted and tugged, then luged.
Swish..swoosh..swish
Kids in the homes applauded;
Cardinals in mints, blues, greens
fluttered about, catching manna
on their tongues; different is good.
brr…mmm..howl
Eventually, the trees and houses
had to lug their heaviness up the hill,
but they had so much fun, they did
it again and again. Families joined in,
in the delightful twilight, kept secrets
shh…shh…hush
of their magical night. Grandkids believed
it was just fantastical stories, but one night
they hear a ruckus, feel the foundations
rocking, rolling, chuckling, carousing; pines
sliding like frosting down a cake. Delicious.
ahh…ohh…wee
Be careful, the secret’s past from tree
to tree, house to house. The stoic unmoved,
but some are considering moving down hill.
they travel from house to house
two car links behind the Amazon driver
picking up each package seconds after he drops it off
they are often captured on video
sometimes news people play this and ask for an identity
are their relatives laughing as they open their presents?
Christmas morn
The sunshine woke
Daylight in maneuver in children’s eyes
Word to the wise
Santa Claus came and went during the midnight hour, and ventured back to the North Pole until next year
Children hurried downstairs to see what gifts they got
Like it or not
Fireplace warmth
Christmas story all children would appreciate
Reindeers and Santa in the sleigh ride
Toys and assorted gifts of all kinds Santa would provide
Children’s dreams on Christmas eve night
Silent night being calm with twinkling stars
House to House
Santa in a hurry
Schedule in tact
Unloading presents from bag sack
Down the chimney Santa went
A time well spent
Up the chimney back to his reindeer
Santa shouted, “Dash away Dash away”
Merry Christmas to all in his getaway
Later, Santa and his reindeer disappeared into the night
Children all say thank you Santa
Winter feel
Christmas love
Christmas came and went
Until next year to see Santa again
Santa observes if children are bad or good
Christmas now and forever
Merry Christmas
SNAIL MAIL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Young Stu, with his shell brown and bold,
From the forest post office, he slowly strolled.
With letters packed on his back galore,
With slime as his tires, he slowly went to each door,
"Your snail mail's arrived!" he extolled.
“You fool! Haven’t you heard of email?” badger exclaimed
“Of all your slowness, you should be ashamed.
“With the click of a mouse
You no longer deliver from house to house.”
“But, but…I’ll lose my job,” Stu proclaimed.
“Oh, Stu, you’re so uninformed, so old school.
Your skill set you must totally retool!
Have you not heard of UPS or perhaps FedEx?
You can deliver packages and other objects!
“But snails don’t drive. You’re such a fool!”
“Besides, I’m looking forward to my postal pension
Not to mention days without strife and tension.
And all those Forever Stamps I’ve amassed
I’ll sell online or on my webcast.
Then with Musk I’ll travel to space, otherworldly dimensions.”
I open the oven door
to a blast of heat
and hot bread bulging
out of a high tin, brown, crusty
and ready to be taken out.
That smell wafts across
seventy years to when I can
remember bread being delivered
in a horse and cart.
Carrying a big
wicker basket full of hot bread,
the baker would run
house to house whilst his horse
ambled along at a pace
in perfect sync with the bakers
progress along the street.
Weekday mornings
I would wait out front
and rush the hot bread
inside for my mother to make me
sandwiches for lunch.
Mum always complained
that the bread was too hot
for cutting. I had a steaming
slice smothered in butter
before I left for school.
Big, thick, uneven slices
of bread holding metwurst
or cheese or peanut butter
greeted me when I opened
my lunchbox at school.
Bread was never better.
Nearing eighty, I keep
baking bread, writing poems,
as if trying to recapture
those pleasures still steaming
in the past before they go.
Shudder not, for it’s the language of Death.
Who’s next? —it asks
Going from house to house,
Both of marble and mud
It cares not
Nor fears man, rich or poor,
Warrior or coward,
Whose nest it visits,
His cold arms ready for embrace,
Ready to snatch
Life is just but one lugubrious journey
On sea or on land or on air,
Which must end with the sound of
A school bell signalling the end of a recess.
So rejoice not when one, friend or foe, drops from the line,
For you could be next
And your kinsman next after you.
One after the other,
We drop
Like one old, battered leaf after another, in the
Spell of autumn.
Her eyes filled up the way they do when she is predicting madness
We try not to take her words literally, for she is theatrically over-the-top
Armageddon, she told us, the armies are gathering now for end of times
Who to tell first? The father who abandoned her at eight.
She scoffed, thinking how strange it was that she thought of him first.
He was maybe her least favorite person in the world.
She almost picked up the phone to call her mother
When she realized that she would be pooh-poohed and chastised.
Who to tell? She wailed in a lamenting way to her kitchen clock.
The clock was no help, but her journal was.
She wrote a little note “I wailed in a lamenting way”.
She could use that someday.
Her sister would be going to bed about this time; she worked nights.
What about strangers? It would be fun to alert strangers.
She put on her most colorful outfit and left her home.
Running from house to house, she screamed and yelled and shrieked.
“Armageddon is here! Armageddon is here! Save yourselves!”
The neighbors were accustomed to her;
They did not open their doors or look out. They knew who it was.
HALLOWEEN
With scary costumes, as per the tradition
And going house to house, the ambition
Yet Halloween to most
Might suggest a ghost
With a price that’s to be paid for derision
Carved pumpkins for no good reason
Always ready at the end of the season
At least in the places they grow
It’s Jack O’Lantern you know
But if Pagan, you’re accused of treason
For kids today, it’s supposed to be fun
Just before November first has begun
Acting as souls of the dead
But Trick or treating instead
Few still know Samhain was the one
I know, “Let’s go trick-or-treating!” the schnauzer said.
Said the cat, “You must be completely dead in the head!”
Pink bunny was jumping around in circle with glee.
Ebony bat said, “If you do it, you have to take me!”
They decided to do it on this October Halloween night.
They dressed in costumes meant to humor not fright.
Went house to house and got no carrots, but candy.
“I love this!” said the candy-eater, schnauzer named Randy.
“I wanted lettuce or carrots,” the rabbit lamented a bit.
said the bat “You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.”
Pink bunny got eaten by big bad wolf along the route.
Cat ran off with a well pawed Tom, rabbit continued to pout.
I am a frozen bowl lady! A frozen bowl lady!
I will come at your call, to fritz your icies, Said Sadie.
We did not understand at all, not living in mom-at-home-times.
It’s like the Tupperware lady, said someone else, My Auntie Frimes.
You would have to live back then and see their rallies, she said.
We chanted our song up and down, at the back of each other’s head.
Went from house to house selling plastic keepers with lids.
Until women went to work and the company fell on the skids.
the eastern phoebe
so excited can’t stop tweets -
house to house, “it’s Spring”
3/27/2023
I never heard the rules.
Guessing was an art.
Observation, that was a start!
Asking "why", was a favorite question.
Who? or what? was part of the lesson.
Going from house to house,
Seeing families with rules,
Some without.
No one had the answer to "why":
We cut chicken off the bone,
Left adults quiet and alone.
Learned to fight when attacked.
Learned to argue and talkback.
Found that decision I made had as much value,
And not to be afraid.
Always acted outside the box,
Never felt guilty,
Or at a loss.
Made a simple rule for me;
Don't hurt another soul or me.
But be bold and be free!
there is a tree of copper leaves
presentation most fervent in Winter season
after all of crepe and oak are bare
my eyes turn bronze
this tree turns me on
i can’t look away
when pines are flaked with snow
or rendered seussical,
having a topside arch &
their downy needles decorated
my eye hues green with white
and the whimsy I feel
in my scarf and wind
a perpetual tease
the flicker of lights from house to house
the darkness loses its sight
the ho ho ho & merry flight
jingle bells down to my toes
i like fall
but i fall for winter
season of the sweater
& wool of wisdom
we follow the lamb
the shepherd leads
through blinding snow
teaching us which way to go
12/5/2022
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