it all seemed bazaar to me;
that Santa wore a thick fur lined coat,
but our sun gave off a blistering heat.
xmas characters wore overcoats, beanies and gloves,
but I was wearing shorts, T-shirt and thongs.
ice and thick snow covered the festive ground,
but I looked upon a dry ground covered in dust.
sky`s were cloudy, grey with no shining sun.
but I stood under blue sky with a blazing sun.
they slid over freezing snow and ice
I was cooling off in the deep blue sea.
The season’s trees were lush and green.
but the trees I saw were dry and brown.
when they were out looking for reindeers,
I had to look out for slithering snakes.
they placed the yuletide log to the open fire,
I turned on the air-conditioner way up to high.
people drank steaming cups of egg-nog,
but I was adding ice to my soft drinks.
even though the temperature was over 30 degrees,
we still had that hot, cooked lunch.
Finished off with warm pudding and hot custard.
The young lackey cries
For the glorious achievements
That featured his past
His dreamy head flies
Daydreaming of contentment
That he's always last
His present is bleak
With overgrown overcoats
Torn beyond repair
His future is weak
Without the thousand banknotes
That makes life all fair
the homeless people
alive in cracks we avoid.
each displays no grace nor glory.
We turn our backs, are so annoyed.
Worn overcoats over scrim pajamas,
angled hair and leather-ed skin,
bags and bottles are their bangles,
we’ve become loveless manikins.
some have singing voices.
souls beautiful yet never heard.
some lay choice-less
all have only what we deserve.
there are angels among them
Sent to check on you and me.
watching, waiting for any kindness
To save us from what we deserve.
What do we know about the homeless people?
Sleeping in the cracks that we avoid?
Those who seem to have no grace or glory.
We turn our backs we’re so annoyed.
John K. O’Zemko
Revised 01-13-2023
02-19-2009
autumn rainbow jubilee
shades of autumn burst
colorful hillside hues ~
inner fire of fall
umber oaks shed leaves
tall forest giants shiver ~
sleepy acorns doze
fiery scarlet leaves
sugar maples glow like coals ~
flurries of orange
fall breeze fantasies
gold flutters from aspen trees ~
overcoats of snow
birch trees ochre leaves
black and white tuxedo bark ~
kinglets swing on boughs
multi-colored leaves
rainbows green pink and saffron ~
sycamores spread fruit
shapely hickory
furrowed dark grey scaly bark ~
squirrels hide tree nuts
spiny light brown pods
autumn storms harvest chestnuts ~
cold reigns in raindrops
autumn jubilee
bounty of leaves nuts and seeds ~
beauty walks the earth
10-27-22
Nation building
The blond warrior on billboards
of yore has lost relevance
Germany is a tanned nation.
The language is simpler; if
not Grammarly correct.
They sit in last chance saloon
the old guard feels bitter
wearing overcoats and fur hats
Mercedes is no longer produced
production coast.
The frostbitten nation arises
the transformation is complete.
Soon one and all will welcome the unique
Pleasantness of spring. Sun’s
Rays and showers will fulfill their
Intended purpose, engendering
New life in the earth as we say
Good-bye to winter’s last cold blast.
Indoor time will decrease as
Sounds of joy fill the air outside.
Closets will reflect the season--
Out with the overcoats, gloves,
Muted shades, and heavy shoes;
In with brighter, light-weight apparel.
Now, let’s unbox those shorts and flipflops.
Go ahead and stock up on grilling supplies.
Some of us have allergies.
Our eyes and noses will flow freely.
Our meds, we hope, will help. Achoo!
NEVERTHELESS, WE ALSO LOVE SPRING!
January 30, 2021
entered in Brian Strand's All Yours (Jan 29) contest
I have to crane my neck
the small coterie presses,
I am too short
for long distance seeing
walls tower over my eyes
like curtains.
“You have to see the hidden in the hidden”
The svelte tailored nose-whisper
expects me to know what he means.
I do, but I am not going to nod
and affirm his effete conceits
besides, I am only here
because of the rain.
I am still trying to step back
to take the image in
from a far view
but there are backs
and back-packs,
slow dripping rain hats.
Spectacles are steaming up
in the muggy ambience,
and he is droning
going to a place
where flowers in a vase
mark a post-revolutionary
something or other.
Now I can’t see it at all
perhaps it is hiding in its
hideaway
almost in front of my face?
I overhear
over damp overcoats
it being coaxed
into something more,
much more
than a few blobs of color
caught indoors
on a rainy day.
“Twas halloween night and well it had been
till falling asleep and hell it then seemed...
I was sitting at home all by myself
Suddenly my eyes were drawn to the shelf
The clock had grown a vile, gruesome green face
A long pointed nose, with teeth a disgrace.
It started to speak with an eerie sound
The voice echoed, bouncing off walls all round
Houselights started to dim and to flicker
Scared I instantly went all aquiver.
Someone took my hand and led me upstairs
Afraid, I whispered “save me” in prayer
Waiting up there were ghouls and ghastly ghosts
Skeletons wearing long black overcoats.
A mist rolled in and so did vampire bats
Then came terrifying, creepy black cats
Witches flew in through windows on broom sticks
Yelling and screaming at me, "treat or tricks."
Couldn’t speak or bellow, just slunk to the floor
Passed out because I couldn't take any more
I woke and my mother was standing there
"Darling" she said "you have had a frightmare."
...so I wrote a poem on the dream theme.
Written: 15th October 2020
.....and so I wrote a poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Lawless
**********
The City Is a Garment
by Michael R. Burch
A rhinestone skein, a jeweled brocade of light,—
the city is a garment stretched so thin
her festive colors bleed into the night,
and everywhere bright seams, unraveling,
cascade their brilliant contents out like coins
on motorways and esplanades; bead cars
come tumbling down long highways; at her groin
a railtrack like a zipper flashes sparks;
her hills are haired with brush like cashmere wool
and from their cleavage winking lights enlarge
and travel, slender fingers ... softly pull
themselves into the semblance of a barge.
When night becomes too chill, she softly dons
great overcoats of warmest-colored dawn.
Originally published by The Lyric
I have had my Fill with the Lifelessness of Winter
I have had my fill of this winter,
The lifelessness in its frost;
Fingers stiff, face pale.
It’s cold pain in the bone
To the black and blue bruise
Of a cracked thumbnail.
Huddled in black overcoats
And breathing out smoke;
It must be hard for mourners
Lowering loved one’s
into the bone white earth
In the dead of winter,
in wooden coffins, arms folded,
As if they could still feel the cold...
John Tansey
Copyright ©2007 John Thomas Tansey
. for public domain
Where we hung our overcoats I don't remember,
or at what time winter snow fell late December,
I barely recall the living room
with the television or radio on,
snuggled in a chair, wanting weather of September.
The living room, our family's sanctuary,
where we prayed for a quickly passing January,
we held our tongues from bitter comments,
mostly, but one slipped out on occasion,
which made for an unpleasant colder February.
Spring and Summer came with outdoor body odor,
showers and sweat all through the harvest of October.
Comments on sore bones and blisters,
exchanged among my mother and sisters,
kept the conversation lively through November.
Our parents have long passed on, as we have passed on,
alone, or enduring lives we have created,
lording over our own living rooms,
to keep them from becoming tombs
of the silence that awaits us at the end.
WITHOUT DOUBT
natures heart beats for us all, without doubt!
the seasons, all had rhythm, come whatever.
happy venues, seasides, parks, hear them shout!
joy, laughter, picnic baskets, days were planned.
raincoats, umbrellas, all left, yes, at home.
now overcoats, gloves, weather changing tone.
lucky to get any we could call grand!
family loved to camp. now me alone!
moorland treks, seaside splashes on the sand!
big domes, all-inclusive sun on demand!
fresh air filtered, gentle wind, breezes blown.
most humans think they are very clever!
it's weather, that has, yes, the biggest clout!
stop pollution, will i give up? never!
Laying in the gutter a young
girl seemed asleep lamp posts
look down at rats with greasy
black hair sniffing at her
arm people with thick overcoats
walk around her murmering
contaminated water of many colors
creep along the curb curious stray
cats come to investigate curling
their bodies round the girls cold
white slender leg pleading to be
petted long blond hair matted
like burlap cover her open blank
eyes
Dried blood from a needle in her
lifeless arm stopped flowing after her
heart gave out her bare feet caked
with mud cops milling around discussing
last night’s football game just another
victim of drugs
sirens in the distance howling like animals
ready to take the girl to the waiting morgue
her family’s calls to missing persons and police
went unheeded.
Sebastopol
Was it a dream
Soldiers
In thick ankle deep
Overcoats
And I had none
It gets dark early
In Sebastopol
A blessing
A tried to buy
An overcoat
Was arrested
Sweet wine they sold
For cigarettes
Sent back on board
Brezhnev
Did the driving
What do I know
It might still be
The darkest place
On earth.
Rivulets of rain run down my misty window pane
All day long the cats and dogs have teemed down
I really need some sunshine on my pale skin
Non-stop rain makes me feel chilled to the bone
Drip, drip, drip, crystal teardrops fall from the sky
Rivers are swollen I hope there is no more flooding
Overcoats and wellies are worn by everyone
Please can the rain stop falling
Summer sunshine you are welcome to come and visit us soon
22nd July 2015
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