The Gift That Keeps Giving

(rated R)

Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! That’s all I gotta say

Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! It’s almost Christmas day

Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! Yea – Santa’s on his way

Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! I hope he doesn’t stay

*

Christmas last year was our first as newlyweds

Our little home smoky with burnt gingerbreads

Rooms festively strewn and splattered with glitter

The kind of memories that’ll be around forever

 *

His reindeer chomped topiary, displayed in my backyard

Now I have to lie and say it’s really avant-garde

Rudolph took a shining to a bright-eyed decoration

Now he’s singing high notes from electrical castration

*

I also saw Santa smooch my wife under mistletoe

Not a friendly peck but a kiss, deep and slow

I’m ready for him this year, cameras everywhere

I’ll edit-out tomorrow, things I shouldn’t share

*

My lovely mate now fast asleep, safe in our cozy room

Windows shuttered tight, door wedged with a broom

While plump little Nicki slumbers soundly in her cradle

It’s now time for me to prepare, egg-nog, cups and ladle

 *

Plus a special surprise for Santa, it’s sure to be a hoot

I long to see his rosy cheeks when slapped with a paternity suit

Ho, Ho, Ho, damn it! I’ve one last thing to say

Ho, Ho, Ho to all and have a very merry holiday

 *

Sck122414

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The Void

~
Bedtime soon and demons shall awake;
but with a soul gone there’s none to take.
The screams in my head scare the spirits away.
Nightmares fast-forward to the light of day.

The ghosts turn white when I yell boo.
And the Reaper can shove his sickle too.
Coz in reality horror lives and fantasy dies.
And sleep‘s just a void behind closed eyes.

~*~
sck072517

Dead Tired

.
Finally, the end of the longest day of my life was over. The tears of the past months now free to flow yet strangely absent. This old house quieter than ever, the door closing behind me and the true sense of emptiness was now being felt as I never thought possible.

Leading up to my wife’s death, friends, family and of course my daughter were always close by and the grief shared by all. Now the house is dark as I stand in the hallway not wanting to turn on the light for fear of seeing the reality of finally being alone.

The hall was brighter just this morning as the sun rose and my daughter and I went off to the funeral parlor for Liz, my wife’s final service before our trip to the cemetery. The morning was crisp and clear, a distant smell of lilac hung in the air as the cars lined up for the procession.

The route chosen was considerably longer than necessary but a twisty country road in full spring bloom is a sight to be enjoyed, even if it to be the last. The funeral itself was as beautiful as anyone could expect, the morning mist lingered in the new day and the birds serenaded in the background as hundreds of mourners passed to show love, friendship and respect for a truly remarkable person. A woman whom I loved deeply for many, many years but now feeling I never fully acknowledged as a person or professional and was regretting having not expressed it more when she was alive. I hoped she knew of my love and respect for her as a mother and friend, as a physician, scientist and teacher and of course as a very lucky man’s wife.

The next few days a similar sad and hazy blur, I just roamed from one room to the next recalling all the little things that happened in each one over the thirty years living here. Each had a story, a laugh or tear, all where ours, our colors, our furniture, our books and our clutter. Each and every piece a memory and all memories of an instant in time to never be repeated. A life time that was a life’s time in the making and yet gone in an instant.

Life goes on I’m told and I would like to believe that. I’m sure for many it does. For some however it’s just not meant to be. I realized this when the crumpled remains of my car was dumped in my driveway minutes ago. And I never got to say goodbye.

The End

sck061817 / dft

Morning Triku #177 ~ Random Waves

Beyond the Glass

My windows are closed.
The air cold and leaves fallen.
Yet birds sing somewhere.
~

Sticky

With the glue of two,
broken hearts can mend anew.
Or someone gets stuck.
~

Self-Love

Love Unimpassioned,
is much like one hand clapping,
every morning.

~*~
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Way Misunderstood

I once dated a lady from Providence.
She had lots of degrees and I, little sense.
We went on a date and took a stroll.
She walked right into a telephone pole.
~
She fell down and scraped her knee.
Writhing in pain she screamed at me.
“My glasses unworn so I’d look good!”
I helped her get home as I should.
~
We cleaned her wound, it wasn’t that bad.
Our date was ruined and we both were sad.
I asked to see her again real soon.
We both agreed on the next afternoon.
~
I went to her house, she opened the door.
What she had planned I wasn’t sure.
She said come in; you can have your way.
What she said next, I couldn’t say.
~
She left the room and I got undressed,
thinking this better than I had guessed.
When she returned she gasped in shock,
while I was caressing a huge pet rock.
~
She soon started swinging and I ran out.
I stood naked outside, my lunch in doubt.
A misunderstanding ruined that day.
And I never did try her curds and whey.

~*~
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Loco Motion

I’ve nothing to write, nothing to say,
nothing to do this fine spring day.
I’ve nothing to wish for, nothing to dream.
I’ve no reason to belt out a scream.
~
But scream I will if I choose,
what the hell, I’ve nothing to lose.
Well, maybe a little, as we all do.
But if you choose I’ll scream with you.
~
Feeling better, so do I,
now to enjoy the morning sky.
That was easy, why’d I wait?
I woke up neighbors but I feel great.
~
It’s always good to blow off some steam.
It’s always faster than it would seem.
If you’re not moved, stay out of the way.
Good morning to all, have a nice day.

~*~
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Bird Brains

I woke up early and the sky was gray.
The world’s in turmoil yet I’ve little to say.
But the birds are happy in the mulberry tree.
I can hear them laughing, maybe at me.
~
They see our world from high above,
whether gull, robin or mourning dove.
Their time alive is soaring free,
while looking down on you and me.
~
For if to fly like a bird,
we’d then flock but never herd.
We’d hatch into a nest well made,
free of worry cos no rent’s paid.
~
Just think of the places we could go.
We could fly south before the snow.
We could eat berries, bugs and worms,
pretty much anything that wiggles or squirms.
~
There’d be no alarms or jobs we hate.
We could fly to the stars our very first date.
Then glide back down to a favorite tree.
There we’d rest harmoniously.
~
But we’re not birds and that’s a shame.
Our lives are grounded and mostly tame.
But if to wish on this day that’s gray,
I’d poop on those who stand in the way.
~
So maybe my wish is not about birds.
It’s about people I think are turds,
those who’ve prevented a world of peace,
for you and me and a gaggle of geese.

~*~
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Forever More

There are parts of her I’ve yet to kiss.
But all will be found and none I’ll miss.
Her lips well covered her face always more,
her neck I long to further explore.
~
Her lobes enjoyed and nibbled much.
Her body quivers to my gentle touch.
Passion ensues and intuition guides.
New destinations found as my tongue glides.
~
Her response is felt on my warm lips,
whilst hands caress her soft round hips.
The kissing proceeds from her head to toes.
But parts in-between I shan’t expose.

~*~
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If Jesus had a gun

If Jesus had a gun there’d be no Christianity.

If Jesus had a say he’d end this insanity.

But if you choose to play this deadly game.

Choose when “shall not” and “might not” are the same?

.

But maker if there be will decide who won.

Prizes to be: peace or the heat of the sun.

To not fear is to fear not the end.

To fear is to violently defend.

.

Some will kill with vigor.

Some hesitate to pull the trigger.

But a trigger’s pulled either way,

Just another death, another day.

.

This loss of life is no one’s gain.

To lose ourselves with altered brain,

Strap on our cloaks of invincibility.

Defy the bonds of sensibility.

.

Children pass and mothers cry.

The bad guy’s always the other guy.

But math doesn’t lie,

Too many people die.

.

There’s some that do, some that don’t.

There’s some that will, some that won’t.

Can there be willingness without desire?

Lines too thin burn easily in fire.

.

If Jesus had a second shot,

Would he take it? –  I think not.

I’ll end this quiz with a wish – not long,

For those of you that pray. –  Pray I’m wrong. .

The End

Sck082814

Clueless

I heard a story when I was away.
It happened last year on New Year’s Day.
A man and his wife went out for a walk.
The beach was deserted, they had a talk.
~
No one knew what the two spoke about.
But it didn’t take long for them to shout.
The women ran back and checked out in haste.
The man was gone, his existence erased.
~
The spa was closed and the police had a look.
A comb was found with a watch and a book.
The detective knew that everything’s a clue,
later that day they found a lone shoe.
~
The sun soon setting, the search had to wait.
The police returned the next day before eight.
Records were checked and fingerprints taken.
Nothing was found but the detective unshaken.
~
Seems the couple paid everything in cash.
The deputy examined all of the trash.
The book, he exclaimed, the best clue they had.
There was also the shoe but that smelled bad.
~
The watch looked expensive but not all that nice.
The comb was filthy and covered with lice.
The detective re-examined all of the clues.
The phone then rang, he hoped for good news.
~
A body washed up on the beach overnight.
By the look of his face he lost a good fight.
The detective, excited, rushed to his car.
He arrived in minutes, it wasn’t that far.
~
Although disappointed when he finally got there.
The man had a watch but he had no hair.
One thing’s for certain, he was missing a shoe.
It was a little too late but now he had two.
~
Now two crimes to solve and surely related,
there’d be no rest until the criminal’s located.
Days soon passed but nothing new discovered.
A report then arrived saying the victim was smothered.
~
The man was attacked but surely not robbed.
The deputy was called and confessed while he sobbed.
The woman in question was the deputy’s wife.
The dead guy, her lover, had come with a knife.
~
The deputy, of course, had worn a disguise.
But tans are evident in those warm, sunny skies.
His wife’s still missing but his watch returned,
it covered the place on his arm not burned.
~
The book and the comb, both common beach finds,
returned to the spa and their curious minds.
Apparently I read it but the plot was old.
The next day I heard a more chilling story told.

~*~
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Forest of Hell

Colorless leaf crackle beneath sole-less feet.

The smell of death lingers sweet.

Bramble thick draws blood on paper skin,

digging more deeply the deeper within.

 *

Then starlight fades to the darkness I fear,

moonlight shadows disappear.

Columns abound supporting endless night,

numbers multiply consuming the light.

 *

Welcome dew hangs heavy in unseen air,

to drink deep I do not dare.

Outstretched hands replace teary useless eyes.

Senses heightened, alert of endless cries.

 *

Vibrations of night; soft, loud, far and near,

distant from all, we all hold dear.

Wanting now only to curl-up and weep,

my soul is still for the sickle to reap.

 *

Return to the path I lost yesterday,

blackness turns slowly to gray.

Long nights journey in the forest of hell,

surviving again, except for my shell.

 *

The End

*

sck~ c.2014

Odds Are

In the shadow of a city a child was born.
Decades festered to bubbling scorn.
His body grew large, his head grew bigger,
the search then on for a prized gold digger.
~
On tabloid pages their faces were strewn,
with scandals, bankruptcies and words of a goon.
Followed by lawyers paid a great sum,
ensuring victims would always stay mum.
~
While spreading his hate he found his niche.
And being a narcissist he saw no glitch.
He bolstered and bragged about a huge brain.
Some saw a genius, others felt pain.
~
Despite all his faults a following was had.
His greatness he shared, the world was sad.
Money poured in from sources unknown.
Bull shit prospered and a candidate was grown.
~
A show was hatched, reality lacking,
the outcome was known, dependent on hacking.
Conspiracies hurled, truth unconsidered,
fears unleashed and thinking dithered.
~
A president forged by the art of the steal.
In a backseat he waved with a spy at the wheel.
An immigrant descended a hypocrite ascended.
The “We” now he or so he amended.
~
A king is made with prince and princess.
While the queen hung back at a different address.
A cabinet assembled to kiss his fat ass.
Powers promised to those who could pass.
~
Those dismissed soon wrote a book.
Others were jailed for being a crook.
Impeachment inevitable, a sigh of relief,
a shakeup at justice led to more grief.
~
Leadership needed toward the end of his term.
But the mask’s inconvenient because of his perm.
Independence day past (let that sink in…),
freedom being fragile when destroyed from within.
~
The summer is here though different than most.
As the deaths in this nation is nothing to boast.
But autumn will come and the chips will fall.
A choice we will make, winner takes all.

~*~
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Whip It Up

While watching TV like a slouch,
love can be made on the couch.
Or while eating tacos in candlelight,
or an extra kiss when saying goodnight.
~
Bad breath be damned, it’s the sunrise,
I kiss her cheeks till she opens her eyes.
Good morning’s shared and our day’s begun.
We need no plans cos everything’s fun.
~
We’ll relax in PJ’s, our hair a mess;
we’ll sip some coffee until we dress.
Smiles are traded with every glance.
But I smile less when she puts on her pants.
~
Laughter’s abundant with the joy we’ve found.
Our harmony’s felt with every sound.
Yes, love can be made most anywhere.
Just two things needed then blended with care.

~*~
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Hopeful Beginnings

The first day of life starts today.
If there’s a second I can’t say.
So today I’m gonna do my best,
I’ll eat some veggies and get my rest.
~
I’ll smile at every passerby.
I’ll say hello and wave goodbye.
I’ll give my love some extra kisses.
I’ll try my hardest to fulfill her wishes.
~
I’ll write a poem that brings folk’s joy.
I’ll use all the tricks magicians employ.
I’ll write something funny and something sweet.
I’ll go upstairs soon and tickle some feet.
~
I’ll nibble some toes and lick some knees.
I’ll massage some thighs if I please.
I’ll whisper “I love you” in waiting ears.
And hope this first day lasts for years.

~*~
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Beerly

My beer’s warm and my bed’s cold.
My wife ran off and my car’s real old.
My dog’s half dead but that’s OK,
I can’t afford to feed him anyway.
~
The kids don’t talk to me anymore.
I go to see mom and she locks the door.
So I go to see dad in the old boneyard.
I drink and I cry and I fall real hard.
~
I get so drunk I can’t even stand.
I woke up once covered in sand.
My toilet’s broke so I pee in the sink.
There’s a shed outside, that’s where I think.
~
I got no lights to turn off or on.
The landlord screams “why ain’t you gone
But don’t weep for me cos I ain’t sad.
I ain’t never had a beer’s that bad.

~*~
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Again and Again

I’d love to see you come again,
to see what you’ve been missing.
All this time in between,
could be filled with lots more kissing.
~
Every second that you’re gone,
my body still feels your heat.
And when you do return,
my heart does skip a beat.
~
Why the need to take a rest,
this night’s still quite young.
Place your cheek close to mine.
And we’ll climb another rung.
~
Bliss will follow then we’ll sleep.
Our dreams will light the dark.
The morning will then beckon.
And we’ll ignite a new day’s spark.

~*~
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The Plump Rump Present Dump

There is an old hippy that lives at the North Pole.
He chugs from his mug and puffs on his bowl.
His mug of cider is both warm and sweet.
His bowl of tobacco is his once a week treat.
~
Mama makes brownies to keep hubby plump.
This task is made easy as he sits on his rump.
The elves do the work most of the year,
until Santa is called to guide his reindeer.
~
He then flies the globe in the dark of night.
And he’s only one chance to get it all right.
The clock is ticking with no hour hand.
Quickly he soars over cities, oceans and sand.
~
A long list he keeps so no one is missed.
He then gobbles up cookies and sometimes is kissed.
Then kids everywhere wake to presents galore.
Then Santa will rest for another year more.

~*~
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Broken

The switch broke, lights went out.
Now I sit alone in doubt.
Morning comes, eyes stay shut.
The feeling’s gone in my gut.
~
Hours pass with no refrain.
Only mush fills my brain.
My body’s weak, pain is strong.
Life is short, death is long.
~
Lips parched, breathing slows.
Numbness reminds of fingers and toes.
Into the light my soul roams.
Blood consumes yesterday’s poems.
~
Silence heard with no heartbeat.
Time knows no defeat.
If tomorrow I shall see,
a better person I will be.
~
If a poet when I rise,
this world anew before my eyes.
Nothing lost is nothing gained,
only regrets leave us stained.
~
Second chances are often rare.
Today’s success is meant to share.
The past gone, ends unknown,
cherish all you have grown.

~*~
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Between a Rock and a Soft Place

If you’re having manopause a guynecoligyst you must see.
They’ll gently cup your stuff and ask you how you pee.
It should come as no surprise, it happens when we age.
There’s little cause for worry and no need for any rage.
~
As we all grow older things will begin to move.
Sometimes things won’t work even when we’re in the groove.
The pain at times can rightly get us scared.
But if the boys were gone you know you’d feel weird.
~
If you just felt a twinge your time is soon to come.
But if you feel anything it’s better than being numb.
I know I’m not a doctor, but I know one thing for sure.
To keep the golden nuggets, wishing is not a cure.

~*~
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Good Morning

In a lovers contortion, bodies in place;
hip to hip and face to face.
Skin is warm to each other’s touch.
Legs search a waist to clutch.
~
Hands explore, caress and hold,
journeys had never told.
Breathing heavy with kisses between.
Smiles glow, the brightest seen.
~
Heart beats in-sync, whispers heard.
Tremors felt without a word.
Nose to nose adoring eyes meet.
Souls at rest, the day we greet.

~*~
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