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 Nov 2017 Poetic T
Mike Hauser
Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me

So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive

As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My **, **, **, is already long gone

Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around

Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time

As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose

Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes **** my kids parakeet out right

With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet

I'm not sure that my kids even noticed
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before

Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present "The Snuggie"
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head
 Nov 2017 Poetic T
lib
remind me
 Nov 2017 Poetic T
lib
remind me
why my heart breaks
when you touch my face

remind me
why anymore when i see you
my heart doesn’t race

remind me
why when i think of you
i almost feel mad

remind me
why your words hurt me
and make me feel bad

please
i’m begging you
remind me
you don’t need him
 Nov 2017 Poetic T
Arcassin B
By Arcassin Burnham


I would Jump right in front of a train like Bruno for ya,
I'll get off of my training wheels and act grown for ya,
I know if the heavens were to catch me catching feelings
in a world like this then I'll take long way home for ya,
looking up to a sky that doesn't call when a woman just
decides to hurt a man when he's a good one,
I know being at home in a quiet life with that man and kid ain't
your style but you should reconcile this one,
how about you allow this one,
Open your mind to better things because now-a-days
we live for the moment and when that moment has ran out
then theres no way out laying under a stone and,
all your worries and your feelings go away,
the love I gave to all my exes , let it be in vein.
©abpoetry2017

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/11/way-out-freestyle.html
 Nov 2017 Poetic T
harlon rivers
The nakedness of winter lies heavy upon
the tolling Sunday quietude
Shed  leaves perish into yesterday
and the dream of another
dawning  someday wanes

The  sun ― lay low
the drudging  ashen  skyline  
Barerd emerald moss scaffolds
draw much more distantness
to the pallid shadowed horizon

The evergreens step forth,
roots grasping sacred heart,
soil  and  rock
In the swelling aloneness
you can feel the grain
of  the  heartwood
rooted in your soul

There are no hard feelings
but there's an enduring ache,
like a tree with a rotting limb
languishing  within
its blackened bark sacrifice

It's not just the grinding time
that slips away begrudgingly;
more of the same takes a toll 
as if another unrung belfry hour
in an empty bell tower
without a song rang out in vain,

peeling  reflections
of reluctant hours  c r a w l  by
in the insensible apathy

A so called holiday passes ―
its footprint bears down
hard  and  deep
as if a paling winter rose
grieves its own passing

A dry wishbone unbroken
lay bare the poignant
truth  it  holds;

it takes two to make
this wish come true


.
Written by:  harlon rivers
a winter Sunday
11. 26. 2017

Note : alternative title before
accidentally published
by write/ public/default

"Unlucky Wishbone"
 Nov 2017 Poetic T
Keara Marie
Pain
 Nov 2017 Poetic T
Keara Marie
Have you ever thought about the word pain in painting? It’s amazing how you can take pain and make it into something so beautiful.
Painting is one of my favorite hobbies and it helps calm my mind when I feel pain.
 Nov 2017 Poetic T
Keara Marie
Ink
 Nov 2017 Poetic T
Keara Marie
Ink
I'm the author of my life,
but, unfortunately,
I'm writing in ink and can't erase my mistakes.
 Nov 2017 Poetic T
The Dedpoet
Third eye blinded,
And the pictures you
Sent wouldn't download
When I couldn't make
In time and the spaces
Make for long distance relationship,
I can hear another voice,
Retaliation of the missing,
Work into an alcoholic
And rage the machinist
By needing more and more.

It wasn't enough that I'm
Impaled onto supports,
The kid should be mine,
Just can't be there
So I'm replaced by a loser
Who refuses to make money,
But can make me when I'm not around,
Away to support you,
Supporting me,
I in me
Without you
And working for the nothing
I've become.
Lost inside a clockwork
        Heart attack

        ‎     Waiting to happen
        ‎   Ticking and cracking
        ‎    The silence in half with a second's helping
        ‎           I was hungry and delving deeper into somnambulance
        ‎                      Gambling my waking minutes
        ‎       Away with a hazy resemblance of life
        ‎     The sharpest of minds couldn't cut it out
        ‎   This troubled route gets more fractured with each forced laughter
        ‎             Hours pass faster the faker my happiness becomes
        ‎                    I scrape by on a yearly basis as my days have gone numb
        ‎
They say home is where the brain committed suicide* first
Hushed conversation overheard
Flushed worth down the drain
And as it spun
The dark corners never seemed so inviting
Enticing how the pain makes you notice yourself when no one else does
Reality is a setback that you've sat through and kept mum about
Contemplating the things that are all in your head more than things that actually are
You've already done it a thousand times
And accepted the indifference growing like vines that intertwine in your mind
Now your thumb is out and you're looking for a ride
Not any particular place, just "away"
Toward somewhere not quite like this

*You use a tied rope as a taxi cab
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