Long Chimneys Poems
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With purpose her steps project pearlescent elegance
Finely cut fabric falls from her waist, embellishes
Weightless momentum, legs timed as ballroom
bustle musical march beside busy suburban thrum
Range Rover overgrown zebras meander, hands free
Inhabit hair salon adjacent spots, to emerge panthers
Claws comb plumb neat pelt on gym angular shoulders
Watched white teeth greet crimped cappuccino domes
From rotting fence, cluttered sunroom mottled streets
Feral hedges blend shed dilapidation with neighbours
Pearl recalls the rural run-down houses, howling low hope
Chimneys emitting messages to status never received
Mauve smoke drifts to city monotonous nonchalance
Eleventh level sky view squares share trove of eventide
Tang in coveted ticket operas from atop lavish lifestyle
High rise residents' glinted sun sets show mirrors only
20th March 2021
Written for Contest : Eight Word Bard
Sponsor : John Hamilton
Words of necessary inclusion are:
pearlescent, thrum, plumb, crimped,
feral, howling, eventide, tang
Twas the Night before Christmas
When the winds started howling
We left Santa a plate of biscuits
Hoping he wouldn’t start growling
It was typically a wonderful night
But who could tell what would come
Not everyone was filled with delight
There was Uncle Sam who was glum
Santa would be here before we knew
And all the gifts would be there for us
Later on we could eat mutton stew
For all I knew it would be superfluous
Afterall, who could eat on this special day
There was much too much to undertake
All most of us cared to do was try to play
Besides all that, I much preferred steak
Santa’s meal sat beside the tree on a table
Awaiting the moment when he came in
Never coming down the chimney of our gable
Since he’d been stuck there by his shin
I wondered what Santa would say when he saw
All those biscuits replacing the sugar cookies
In hopes of giving Santa a better diet after the thaw
So he’d make it down chimneys with the goodies
No doubt, Santa would probably miss the sweet
But hopefully he’d see that we were making him fit
And that we honestly weren’t trying to cheat
Surely Santa was too fat and he’d have to admit
When we awoke on Christmas morning that year
We were all surprised with the gifts we’d received
A treadmill, a fitbit and all sorts of gym gear
Santa had definitely taught us about being deceived
November 20, 2019
The Night Before 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One Christmas Eve, when all the reindeer wheezed,
Santa sighed, staring at his grounded fleet.
Then—scritch-scratch—a small, clawed architect appeared,
tail a-quiver, eyes bright with stolen seeds.
I’ll do it, chittered the squirrel, puff-chested,
as if sleighs were just oversized acorns.
Santa shrugged. Desperation breeds odd pilots.
The squirrel’s tiny paws gripped the reins~
no reins, really, just shoelaces knotted tight.
The sleigh lurched forward, more wobble than glide,
gifts rattling like a junk drawer in turbulence.
Over rooftops they went, the squirrel’s tail steering
like a frantic rudder. Cats paused mid-yawn.
Children glimpsed the blur—Was that... a squirrel?
—then dismissed it as eggnog hallucinations.
Presents were dropped (some were flung, frankly),
landing in chimneys, bushes, one in a birdbath.
The squirrel, high on adrenaline and stolen frosting,
declared this the Greatest Nut Run Ever.
Dawn approached. Santa, exhausted, offered payment~
the squirrel demanded a lifetime supply of cashews.
And that’s why, even now, if you listen closely,
you’ll hear tiny claws on your roof...
delivering invoices.
Far away in Santa town all was a frenzy
as the elves made the toys for Christmas.
Yet there was no sign of Santa himself
he was still fast asleep as it was only July.
Not for another four months would he stir
This was the time of his yearly hibernation.
Slowly the hours and then the days past
until it was, at last, the end of November.
Santa stirred then with a shake he awoke
with a loud ho ho ho he jumped to his feet,
First he checked up on his busy elves
making sure that they were on track.
He admired the toy stack, it was large
showing that most children were good.
He hustled around making very sure
each present was loaded on his sleigh.
He next checked that all the reindeer
were fit and well to do the Christmas run.
At last the big night arrived and Santa
took up the reins with a loud ho ho ho .
He called their names and with a leap
they were airborne flying through the sky.
Santa climbed down so many chimneys
he was now all covered with black soot.
The reindeers took one look and in fright
they fled leaving Santa stranded on the roof.
With a weary sigh he took of his jacket
and called out their names one by one.
Shame faced they came back to him
oh you silly things he chuckled, its me.
Soon once more they were on the way
carving a starry path through the skies.
At last all the presents were delivered
it was time for Christmas to begin.
And Santa? he went straight back to sleep
What else would you expect? Ho ho ho.
In the middle of nowhere amidst this barren terrain
Silent scatter of suitcases surrounds an empty train
Passengers gone, quietness aplenty
Signs of life none no visible sentries
Carriage after carriage as far as the eye can see
For the thousands of occupants where can they be
As we approach the engine buildings appear
Smoking chimneys, some figures become clear
Stripe suited and shaved, emaciated to thin
What world have we walked into, seeing skeletal skins
The sweet smell of the acrid smoke
Stinging our eyes, catching our throats
As we enter the buildings that are emitting the smoke
The stench and the sight leaves us sickly in choke
Bodies charred, broken, naked unjust
In this war that we have lived, inhumane, disgust
Night turns to day as we witness it clear
To do this to humans, what did the Germans fear
Later that day on the news we've heard
For we haven't witnessed the first, there's been further abuse
We reach Berlin my platoon and I
For the past five years of fighting, we still wonder why
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Since you are so fat,
How do you slide down chimneys? Please answer me that!"
"Well, it ain't easy laddie since I am quite obese!
But I wriggles and squirms and apply lots of elbow grease!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! How do the reindeer fly?"
"They wiggles their ears and swishes their tails to soar thro' the sky!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! How do you know if I've been good or bad?"
"Ho! Ho! I know alright 'cause I check with your Mom and Dad!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Why does Rudolph have a shiny red nose?"
"It is his secret alone and that even to me he will not disclose!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Is your favorite snack cookies and milk?"
"If I had my druthers, I prefer salami and cheese, things of that ilk!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! How fast is your sleigh?"
"Fast enough to circle the whole earth on each Christmas Day!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Will you please come again next year?"
"Yes, my boy, and for years and years to come, never you fear!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Christmas Day 2017
The ground rumbles, ominously, I'm on the steep side of a Mississippi River Bluff, mid-August, gathering bursting crimson red trophies of Staghorn Sumac for my favorite sumac-ade, a spright, invigorating tonic I enjoy this time of year. The smell in the air, forest-sage beginning to dry and ripen, the bitter tang of scattered paper-birch bark chimneys...must keep alert for the origins of the earthly rumble.
The unsettled earth, sweet and bitter smells...mix with my age and I sit down as if in a trance and drift asleep...harkening back to my training as a young man in a Manhattan Bagel Deli, assembling prep-stations for the customer onslaught about to descend. Proofed bagel dough, seeded and rotating in the elevator slate-shelved oven after a frothy malt-bath in the bubbling giant kettle, delectable aromas of fairly vibrating paper-sliced spiced meats and piquant aged cheeses, briny sheets of smoked lox, pots of sweetly acidic capers and luminous heirloom tomatoes...
But I'm much older now, my mind remembers, but my body can't function like it once did, I can't perform the once-easy configurations effortlessly like before.
The rumbling, just my imagination...
I awaken, gather my bunch of fluorescent sumac, which I am still able to concoct, mindful of God's Grace in my spiritual and physical evolution...He
Has Blessed me with.
8-13-20
6:03 am
I am a sprite pixie lost in the vast plain of tomorrow
Plain simple and impish and easy to find in my sorrow
A true spirit I am adrift in a snow storm void of the needle
To find my home at the North Pole no compass to twiddle
At the food bank they gave me a parcel but no directions
Sustenance surely but I miss my family’s loving affection
For what it is worth I never harmed any other creature
But my phone has no apps and no navigation feature
All powerful Santa would you look out for me twee one
On your travels from chimneys to i-clouds under the sun
I need no other presents because goblins are quite eerie
Without companions and sat nav though its freezing dreary
Send me a dolphin or peace dove or leprechaun rocket
I’ll pay you back in kindness so you won’t be out of pocket
Next year when short of a reindeer for all those good parcels
This elf will help you but for now I must get to my fairy castle
I am sending this registered letter with no return address
But the world is a global village and you have internet access
I am a dot on google maps with harlequin bells and quite sound
Of mind bar its memory and will sing Silent Night once I’m found
For more entertainment I can pirouette and dance like a dragon
So you won’t need bluetooth once we share a ride in your wagon
I am an involuntary migrant so help me rejoin with my sweet troll
Foreigners these days are so easily deported by border control
12th December 2019
Air traffic control has spotted a strange object in the sky
Moving at the speed of sound, bright lights flashing by
Radio contact has been made, a request to land on every roof in town
Air space has been cleared, and the landing textbook without a sound
A man in a red suit climbs out to check the flight crew of eight reindeer
A last chance to view the naughty and nice list before he disappears
The elves have reported all the chimneys are clear
Santa has been on a strict weight loss program, no need to fear
Presents are all separated and ready for delivery, must be handled with care
Timeline to get moving, such a big job no time to spare
Christmas comes but once a year, enjoy it spread goodwill and lots of cheer
Thank you Santa for another job well done, and we will see you again next year
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Above the village,
serrated towers bite the sky~
Castle Ravenloft sits,
contorted and hollow-eyed.
Its towers lean like broken fingers,
clutching at clouds that won’t disperse.
Below, Barovia exhales smoke.
Chimneys cough.
Windows glow dull yellow~
like the eyes of something
watching from the trees.
Streets remember feet
that no longer walk them.
The Count’s shadow
stretches long,
though the sun never rises
high enough to cast one.
His mist comes creeping~
not like a thief, but like a god
who knows it owns the air.
It curls around ankles,
licks the sweat from brows.
It slithers between houses,
licks at doorways,
whispers promises
it has no intention of keeping.
The castle does not loom.
It waits.
Stone fingers curled
around the valley’s throat,
patient as a noose.
In Barovia, the bread is always stale.
The wine tastes of copper.
Children learn not to answer
when the wind calls their name.
And every night,
without fail,
the fog rolls in—
thick, hungry,
a second sky pressing down,
reminding them:
You are not lost.
You are exactly where he put you.