OFFICE XMAS PARTY
Silly hats and even sillier chatter
Overloud voices, but what’s said does not matter
As alcohol increases by the crates.
Clink of glasses, clatter of plates,
Jingle of forks and knives,
Jokes between husbands and wives.
Speeches made by men hot and glistening
With automatic applause but no one listening.
Dancers ungainly and ill-at-ease
With alien-partners, trying to please
Unsynchronized men dragged to the dance
Floor by rhythmic women making a determined stance.
People doing pointless things - the boss with an elf hat -
His PR assistant making PR chat.
In the photo dark room , under-manager
Completely out of character
With the secretary whose task she does not shirk -
Some emergency negative work.
The evening is wearing on
Guests are wearing out their welcome
I’m wearing in a clown’s mask
The xmas spirit is wearing off.
the old witch, wicked?
had yet to be determined
lured five brave men to
her wedding bed and
five less brave men down the isle
of divorce. was it
the long scar down her
crooked nose, wiry long hair
streaming off of the
dark mole on her snarled
lower lip? Was it her huge
hips, nasty morn breath?
we will never know
for now she has found her bliss
the prince placed the kiss
On the surface she was beautiful
But she was ugly deep inside
Yet always she was surrounded
With many men by her side
On the outside she was ugly
Her beauty was deep within
She was always left by herself
Shunned by all the men
Showered with gifts and compliments
Never wanting for a date
Even though inside her heart was dark
Intoxicated with hate
Full of love and sympathy
Always lending a helping hand
Never receiving a single call
Avoided by every man
We can be so shallow
Deceived by our very own eyes
If we could only learn to see with our hearts
We men would be surprised
As the water acts as a mirror
To reflect the clouds and sky
Let my attitude become a mirror
Of my Father who lives on high
As real men ride in chariots
Being pulled by fiesty horses
Being handled with only a bridle
These men who control such forces
Like God who with strength controls
The whole universe with his right arm
Guiding the sun, moon and stars
To contain the earth's climate warm
Let me turn over to God
Things that I don't understand
So my attitude can remain calm
In so turbulent of a land
He's rolling along the blacktop,
Rolling past Flora's crop,
Like a disinterested wind,
A Zephyr without a clue...
He doesn't stop to take notice,
It's just one foot before the next,
Placing his worn out size twelve
Atop a sweet daisy...
His touch is rough, and,
Better fit the for handling the
Painstaking labors of life
Than cultivating flowers in the garden,
Some men take pleasure in plucking lilies!
They are the farm hands who reap your fields!
Other men specialize in sowing seeds,
They are those who recognize the flowers' needs...
He's not so handsome as Narcissus,
But knows well, how to piss a goddess off!
He laid to waste and wilt many flowers
And soon gained the title of 'invasive weed'!
He has no place in the garden,
No knowledge of the flowers' anatomy,
His touch is too rough to the pedal
He can't keep his hand off the pistil
Pluck the weed
That cannot heed
The need of a flowering seed
Out of my garden she decreed