Made Possible By Snowmen

A Christmas wreath,
Flying through the air like a frisbee,
Grabbed by an unseen hand,
Settled on top of,
A pudgy snowman.

The snowman shook her head,
She was confused,
Feeling something around her head,
She reached up to unseat it,
But it had become fused.

Her head began to tingle,
Where the wreath sat,
And then the bells attached,
The wind made them start to jingle.

Every year,
The very same wreath,
Floats down from the air,
And picks out a snowman,
To help with Mrs. Santa’s Plan.

Someone at the North Pole needs a snowman,
One that isn’t made,
Of their magic snow,
So Mrs. Clause sends out this wreath,
To gather one that she can’t reach.

During Mr. Clause’s,
Christmas Eve run,
Mrs. Santa has things,
She needs to get done,
For something in particular,
She’ll need the help of this one.

You see snow from the outside,
Is the only thing,
That can make things go unseen,
And she wants to hide.

No!
It’s not like that!
She’s not doing anything shady,
But those elves are nosy,
And she wants time to herself,
For a cozy evening,
Like a regular old lady.

So up and away,
Flew the snowman,
And when she landed,
In that Far North Land,
She was greeted by the twin,
Of Santa’s famous deer Vixen.

“My Lord”!
She exclaimed,
Upon looking around,
“I’ve never seen,
So many like myself before”!

“Ah, but they’re not like you”,
Said the twin of Vixen,
“Ours are made with stuff magical,
And cannot do the job,
We’ve collected you to do”.

And so in the short time it took,
To deliver her,
To the Clause’s door,
He provided swiftly,
A brief North Pole history.

Mrs. Clause heard them coming,
And threw open the door,
Calling out a merry greeting,
Around the mouthful of Christmas cookie,
She was eating.

Now Vixen’s twin plodded off,
And the non-magical snowman,
Was left with just Mrs. Clause,
Who explained she needed a night to relax,
A total break,
From the whole Christmas act.

“The elves would take this as a sign,
Of great disrespect,
And my husband would worry,
I wasn’t taking our job seriously,
So year after year,
I bring one of you here,
For the snow you’re made of,
Gives off a poison shine,
And if elves look upon it,
Their eyes go temporarily blind”.

So the non-magical snowman,
Was asked by Mrs. Clause to guard,
Posted right at the property’s edge,
So the elves’ views of the place,
For the next twenty-four hours,
Would be barred.

All throughout the coming day,
That woman had a ball,
She had,
After all,
Waited a whole year,
For this day to fall.

Half was spent lazing about,
Watching un-Christmassy things on her telly,
Then she cooked and ate unhealthy cuisine,
Like sausages with sour kraut,
Before taking time out,
To read a book,
Instead of being,
The elves’ cook.

Peeking out her front window,
She saw the non-magical snowman,
Was still there keeping watch,
But the time was up,
On this trick,
She must get ready,
For the arrival of St. Nick.

It would be another year,
Before she would again be clear,
Of dear Mr. Clause,
And before he showed his face,
The evidence of what happens in his wake,
She must be sure to erase.

For of course Santa Himself,
Would be able to see through,
The non-magical snowman,
As he’s much more powerful than an elf.

Let me tell you gladly,
It does not end badly,   
For those flown in to assist,
Mrs. Santa makes damn sure,
They are compensated for helping her,
She turns them magical,
Rather than returning them,
To where the first sign of warmth,
Would have them die a death most tragical.

Can Trouble-Free, Be For Real?

Just where in the mother-fuck,
Is easy street?
It’s a confusion I guess,                
Because something for one it might bless,
But put another in quite the fucking mess.

If I’m fortunate enough to make it,
To easy street,
Will I be given gracious greetings,
And presented with treats?

Maybe it’s not here at all,
There’s a possibility,
It can’t be uncovered,
Before we cross over.

Wherever it may be,
I wonder what’s to see,
And what’s waiting for me,
When I reach easy street.

What does it even mean,
To find easy street?
Is it time to kick back relaxed,
And stop being overtaxed?


Do you have a clue,
What there is to do,
Upon reaching easy street?
I assume there’s constant fun,
Because everything’s already done?

Are worries washed away,
When you set foot on easy street?
Is forgetting misfortunes,
A side effect of finding that place?

Maybe easy street finds us,
When we’ve all but given up?
Must you be invited to go there?
But by who……….
And could that be why it’s so rare?

Is easy street,
Even a factual place?
Or is it just fictitious?
Of this I’m suspicious……….

Love, Be Gone!

********************
I don’t like it,
So if that’s what this is,
Its hold on me,
Has got to give.
********************

Oh yes,
You bet it’s true,
Heart disease,
Is a most deadly killer,
But it’s not about that organ failing,
On which I stake my complaints,
I’m meaning more toward,
When it’s bruised and torn,
And makes us want to wail,
Because someone else,
Has made it mourn.

Such a deadly disease,
That eventually,
Befalls us all,
And sad but true,
If it hasn’t yet,
It’ll get you too.

Its fatality rate,
Is not known,
But if I were to debate,
On if it’s high,
I’d push to the affirmative,
As even though,
You may be alive,
You can’t really live.

Though able to move freely,
You’re paralyzed,
From a brain swirling,
With flashbacks of lies.

A smile that,
Goes on for miles,
Suddenly replaced,
With a wan face,
Brought on by nausea,
From that tormented mind,
And now your days are trials.

Years of torture,
Had fucking well better not be my future,
Knock on wood,
That it doesn’t take,
Much time to heal it,
Because I’m sick to death,
Of feeling like shit.

********************
I don’t like it,
So if that’s what this is,
Its hold on me,
Has got to give.
********************

Ocean Drama

Wow that’s really,
Beyond belief!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

Rolling his eyes,
At the fishie,
The coral reef,
Asked hey what’s up,
And could you please,
Get to the point already.

You remember that blue whale,
Who went to Yale?
Well he just put up a sign,
Saying our Ocean,
Is for sale!

You don’t say!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
Well thanks anyway!
For ruining,
A delightful day!

Yes way!
I do say!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

All ears now,
The coral reef,
Said to the fishie,
What shall we do?
I don’t want to live,
Owned like it’s a zoo!

I guess it’s up to,
Me and you!
We must save the day!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
With some dismay.

I’ll think on it,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
We must act quick!
If our plans,
Are to be,
Worth a lick!

So the fishie,
And the coral reef,
Thought and thought,
Hoping that in the meantime,
Their Ocean,
Would not get bought.

Time is running out!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
That blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Just swam by,
With a stingray,
Who assured him,
He could pay!

Oh please help!
The coral reef prayed,
To the Mermaid God,
Whose name was Maud.

Cross your fins,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
That legal papers,
Do not begin!

What about if we,
Invite them both for tea?
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
We can use the cafe,
At the bottom of the sea!

Yes! Yes! That’s an impressive idea!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
Spelled tea and tortilla,
If it changes their minds,
We are not committing a crime!

I’ll go and make arrangements,
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
And come right back,
When I’ve planned the whole entertainment.

I’ll be right here,
Waiting to hear,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie.

Ok! Ok!
Have a splendid,
Rest of your day!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
While waving a fin,
And swimming away.

Only two days had passed,
When the fishie came back,
My that was fast!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie.

The cafe,
At the bottom of the sea,
Is willing to play host,
To avoid tragedy!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

We must hail,
That blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
And invite the stingray and him,
To go for a swim!

Together they called on Maud,
Who summoned the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Now we must hope,
That it’s a short wait,
For him to answer the God,
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

The Mermaid God Maud,
Sent an answer straight away,
They’d meet the fishie there,
Tomorrow at noon,
So he’d best go and prepare.

Slap me five,
And I wish you luck,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
For it’s up to you,
To be sure our plans don’t fall through.

Away he went,
With little less than a day,
Before the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
And his client the stingray,
Would eat the tea and tortilla,
Spelled by the Mermaid God Maud.

Around about eleven,
The blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Swam by the coral reef,
The stingray following close behind,
And both of them,
Seemed eager to dine.

Soon they were out of sight,
Headed to the Ocean’s bottoms,
And the coral reef,
Hoped the fishie,
Was able to carry out the plans,
In a way that went awesome.

Far far down,
On the Ocean Floor,
The cafe proprietor,
Prepared tea and tortillas,
And before the guests arrived,
The spell sent by Maud,
The Mermaid God,
Was tucked inside.

Welcome! Welcome! Greeted the fishie,
To the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
And his client the stingray.

Continued he hotly,
I hear some changes,
Are being arranged!
Tell me about,
Your plan to exchange hands,
And how you want to replace dear Maud,
With this here fraud!

The speech was addressed,
To the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
And at the end a pointed look given,
To the stingray,
Neither of whom,
Seemed to know what to say.

So they swam rapidly,
For the door,
But the proprietor,
Had locked it long before,
Said he to everyone,
Let’s sit and partake,
Of what I’ve worked hard to prepare,
And talk about this,
Rather than throw these fits.

Plates and cups were passed around,
With little red dots,
On the ones meant,
To change the guest’s minds and hearts,
And here the fishie said,
Let’s first take time to drink and devour,
It sounded polite and accommodating,
But was really meant to give time,
For the spell to work its power.

It wasn’t long before the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Was followed calmly out the door,
By his ex client the stingray,
Neither one remembering,
What they had come there for.

They had no memories,
From the past few weeks,
This had been assured by Maud,
When she was asked to seek,
The best sort of spell,
To save all who call the ocean home,
From a living hell.

It’s done! It’s done!
We’re safe and can still have fun!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

Wow that’s really,
A relief!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
That could have been,
Such a disaster,
But now it doesn’t matter,
And at that they heard in the distance,
The Mermaid God’s silky laughter.

Something……….I’m Not Sure What……….

A blazing beam,
In this trying time,
Is what I fantasize of finding,
But I guess the fucker is hiding.

It can come in the form,
Of divine intervention,
Or a human,
With decent intentions,
………If either even exist?
I don’t know…….on that I am torn.

Something bright and sunny,
And sweet like honey,
Pleasant like pin money,
Rather than bad like blood money.

Rocks are being thrown,
So far I’m dodging,
And they haven’t broken any bones,
Fingers crossed,
That they never quite hit home.

Hmmm……….
What is happy,
And could make one forget,
That recent hands dealt have been crappy?
Anything that pushes,
Some positivity,
Would be positively welcome,
Something that’s strong,
And shoves this shit,
Down where it belongs.

It can show up by day,
Or by night,
Even give me,
An awful fright,
As long as it makes,
Life flow right.

Luck of the Irish,
Rain down upon me,
As though I’ve captured,
A leprechaun,
Or ran across a rare four-leaf-clover,
While walking across my lawn,
Turn things around,
Please pull me out,
Of this imaginary ocean,
In which I find myself drowned.

Under a spell,
Originating,
From the depths of Hell,
It’ll take something magical to smash it,
Like a unicorn,
Blowing a mighty horn,
Or a centaur,
Dead set on winning a war.

Trying to hit the nail on the head,
By filling me with dread,
Things coming,
From all sides at once,
Hoping I’ll stay bummed,
And never resume,
Happy hums,
But……….fuck that shit!
………. Surely I’ll soon shake off,

These things that suck……….

Live Music Experience

It’ll help,
It’ll heal,
It’s the real deal,
It’ll show you how you ought to feel.

There’s no room for bullshit,
Just straight up and here to fix your problems,
I swear it,
By the time they’re done,
You won’t even remember it.

Let it enter in your ears,
And saturate your brain,
I promise,
It’ll stop you from going insane.

So fierce you can feel it,
Even the gentlest of beats,
Your whole body will absorb it,
Starting with your feets,
And settling in your heart of hearts.

Get lost in it,
To fully find yourself,
Shady shit will melt away,
Because you came here today.

The invisible vibrations,
Are loud enough to deafen you,
Trust me,
This is what you need,
For your brain and soul to feed.

It’ll never disappoint,
You’ll walk away satisfied,
Your mind has finally spied,
That which you have been denied.

Our Association To The Ocean

While looking out,

Over the ocean,

I was wishing I could bottle some up,

Kind of like a little potion,

But after thinking that through –

It’s not necessary,

As there’s something ocean-like,

Already inside of you.

 

Every day we make waves,

Some on the surface,

And others internal,

Ourselves we may not realize,

But when seen through another’s eyes,

They move a bunch of life’s bits,

Causing eternal changes,

To happen in every size.

 

Each and every one of us is powerful,

In body,

In mind,

Or in both combined,

In some it’s kept hidden,

Then in others it shows,

Whether it’s been brandished,

Or has snuck out unbidden.

 

We can all be colorful,

And yes sometimes that’s wonderful,

Though at other times,

Not so much,

Maybe our good moods,

Are like the Caribbean Sea,

Beautiful,

Translucent,

And aquamarine,

And our bad moods,

Are like the Bay of Biscay,

Dark,

Stormy,

And seeking prey.

 

Woven here and there throughout humanity,

Something sure smells fishy,

Of course I mean that figuratively,

I am referencing those with salty personalities,

Hence is the notion,

That they’re like the ocean.

 

 

 

Before

What is done,

And what should be done,

Too many times,

Are two different things.

 

Life at this time,

Has lost its shine,

Do people’s dirty little tricks,

Too make your stomach sick?

 

Let us rewind,

Hundreds of years,

So as to get away,

From so many vile liberal minds.

 

I’ve been known to wonder,

Why wasn’t I born,

Way back when?

Eventually though,

It’s concluded,

That I was,

But then,

Like everyone does,

I was reincarnated,

Time and again,

Until now here I am,

Part of this modern world,

That’s congested with hatred.

 

How many previous,

Lives did I lead?

What did I get up to?

And did I succeed?

Does that even matter?

To these I’ve no answer.

 

I’m sure there were many,

Some in the times when being rich,

Required barely more than a penny,

And other souls were so far off,

That a walk to visit neighbors,

Would wear a hole in one’s socks.

 

I hereby suggest someone,

Invent a spell,

That can take a body back,

To when things were simple,

To when for the most part,

Society was civil,

Rather than sinful.

 

I beg of you,

Let me go back,

To whenever it was,

That my first life was lived,

Modern conveniences be damned,

The peace would more than make up,

For what I would lack.

 

 

 

 

 

Moose On A Mission

Here is the story of a moose,

Who heard some people,

Like eating pies of chocolate mousse,

And so went about searching,

To find the Chocolate moose,

So as to save them from the fate,

Of ending up,

On people’s plates.

 

“They must be bitter and cold,

Like the winter months,

To think of eating one of us”,

Thought the Regular moose.

 

A make of moose called Chocolate?

He’d never heard of that,

It must indeed,

Be a rare breed,

Or he’d have heard,

Of at least one herd.

 

This particular moose,

His name was Deuce,

He was born and raised,

In the North Country,

In deep woods running along,

Interstate Ninety-Three.

 

It occurred to him,

That Chocolate moose,

Might not even live,

In a forest with birch and spruce,

Maybe they were farther off,

Where palms grew,

In flatlands of sand.

 

“Aha”!,

Thought Deuce,

“I can disguise my search,

For the Chocolate moose,

I’ll tell the whole forest,

I’m going on a vacation,

And I don’t know for how long,

Will be the duration”.

 

So he got his affairs in order,

And made sure to grab,

His lucky quarter,

Then he was off,

His undertaking a secret,

So his friends wouldn’t scoff.

 

He did not know,

Whether to look high or low,

As he’d never seen one before,

He did not know,

To what size,

A Chocolate moose might grow.

 

Every so often,

He would stop to speak,

With whatever woods creature,

Had a minute to spare,

He had conversations with ants and with bears,

But none had heard,

Of a Chocolate moose,

Living anywhere near there.

 

It took him a week to get to Florida,

Walking half the days,

And all through the nights,

Where he inquired with all the exotics,

Although they made him quake with fright,

But after quite some time,

Seeing no new leads,

He acknowledged it was time to head,

And in another two weeks,

Arrived in California.

 

Needing to gather his thoughts,

That first night after dark,

He made his way,

To a beach in Malibu,

And took a swim until,

He worked out his muscle knots.

 

All throughout the next few days,

He asked spiders, sharks, and lions,

And after being satisfied,

That they were not lying,

He started to trek back east,

But no,

He was not ready to admit defeat!

There must be a way,

To locate the Chocolate moose,

And keep them from dying!

 

Now Deuce decided,

That to not have at least a little fun,

Would be outright retarded,

Enough chatting with those,

Who gave him the creeps,

He would visit,

The City That Never Sleeps.

 

Now,

The answers we seek,

Tend to be revealed,

At the most unusual of times,

And so it was this time,

For after searching weeks and weeks,

He learned that eating Chocolate mousse,

Was not even a crime.

 

Deuce arrived in New York City,

At the start of a busy weekend,

He made his way to Central Park,

Where he found some woods,

And napped ’til almost dark.

 

About the time he woke,

A voice on the nearby trail spoke,

Said she to her chum,

“After that run,

My favorite chocolate mousse,

Would go down so yum”!

 

“Oh this is too easy”!

Thought dear little Deuce,

“I’ll follow them,

And be led right to these Chocolate moose”!

 

And so,

From a safe distance behind,

He kept the ladies in his sight,

Hoping with all his might,

That the Chocolate moose she hoped to devour,

Had not yet been prepared,

In the pastry made of butter and flour.

 

Really,

He did not know where he was expecting,

To find this unheard of breed,

But to be sure,

It did seem strange to collect it,

From a bakery.

 

Yet that is where they were,

And as it was a pleasant evening,

The business had propped open the door,

So he heard them make the order,

Then watched them go take a seat,

At the table in the corner.

 

Moving then,

To stand at the wall,

Where he could hide behind,

The two decorative pines,

While looking in an open window,

It pretty near blew his mind,

When the food was brought,

For there was no meat,

It was actually a sweet!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Independence Day 2020

The Earth is beautiful,

But the World is one hot mess,

Are we all fuct?

Have you all given up?

 

Because I was born,

The same way I’ll die,

And that is free,

One hundred percent,

Not just to some degree.

 

Some people seem to know,

Just what buttons to press,

To start another war,

It about makes me envious,

Of those about to go knocking,

On death’s door.

 

Before all the land was settled up,

The pioneers had the right idea,

They were wild and free,

And lived off the land,

Never submitting to laughable laws,

Of another man.

 

Slow and steady,

The years passed by,

The population grew,

And everyone thought,

They knew what was best to do.

 

Now there is this piece of shit,

Known as politics,

No matter how far you travel,

There’s no escaping it,

They’re at your local grocery store,

And at the nearby sea shore,

Face it,

Once you’ve dared,

Walk out your door,

You’re not free,

And nothing’s fair.

 

Now here I sit,

Trying to make,

Some sense of it,

It’s looking like half are lying,

Just to set the others crying,

It won’t be long,

And the tables will turn,

Somehow everybody’s right,

Though both sides say,

The other is wrong.

 

This year,

Freedom is not ringing,

It really hasn’t for some time,

Well last I checked,

My taxes are paid,

So I’ll do as I please,

In this supposed Home Of The Brave.

 

Excuses to sidepass unconstitutional rules,

Should not be essential,

And a possible arrest,

Should not even have potential,

I ask,

Why celebrate the Fourth,

If you don’t discern its worth,

And if you do indeed identify,

Rather than fall prey to political lies,

You should act free,

And you should act brave,

Until you are called,

To your grave.