#365 Three Hundred Sixty Five

This is the end

That's what Morrison sang

My only friend

End of line

End of sequence

An end to this beginning

An end to this spring

It's out there now

With life of its own

To wriggle in your noodle

To grow where it was sown

May it free your mind

May the rest follow

In singsong rhyme

In Seussian wallow

A copyright breaking

A line to be taken

A nagging feeling

That cannot be shaken

So very strange

To look back on this sequence

To smile

To cry

To frown

Where did that come from

Admitting that I have no recollection

Is it genius

Is it madness

Is it sadness

Is it obsession

I can't account for it

All I can do is add it up

And stare at where I arrive

Pretty much where I started

This one makes:

Three Hundred Sixty Five

#364 Time Keeper Tragedy

I saw him

Father time

He was riding

The Waterford crystal ball

Above Times Square

He was not afraid to fall

This was his last hurrah

His last seconds of glory

He wanted to go out with a bang

Something traumatic and gory

Jumping up and down

Like a wizened maniac

Screaming at the top of his lungs

Trying desperately to make it crack

Then it happened

The ball broke free

Bursting from the pole

Father time laughing with glee

Urging the ball onward

Hoping to crater a deeper hole

Accelerating downwards

At a whole lot more

Than 32.2 feet per second

That ball grew a comet's tail

Breaking windows

Cracking concrete

Not to mention the sound barrier

Hair streaming back

Oblivious to the heat

Immortal and indestructible

At least for a few more seconds

Father Time rode the crystal ball

But a sudden gust of wind

And a twist of fate

Brought Baby New Year

Into harm's way

Jerking his face up

At the last possible second

Baby New Year locked eyes

With Father Time

Both of them horrified

Waving their arms

Vainly pushing danger away

Until they were both lost in the flash

The impact cratered West 46th

Making it impassable for weeks

Worse still was the way things felt

Time wasn't moving properly

From the floor of Death Valley

To Everest's snowy peaks

Nothing would happen

For days at a time

Flowers wouldn't grow

Men wouldn't have to shave

Natural processes halted

Some were saved from the grave

But then time would stutter step

The man next to you

Would sprout a ZZ Top beard

In the span of a few seconds

Plants grew tall

Flowered to seed

Withered and died

At a blinding speed

People on the brink of death

All dropped dead

In the space of a breath

Causing mayhem and sadness

Too much

After too little

Humanity was succumbing to madness

We all knew what it was

It was Father Time's last act

Of high flying insanity

If only he hadn't

Things would be normal

Baby New Year would be adolescent

Regulating the gears of time

Just as he was meant

So as a group

We hold our breath

Trying to tough it out

Holding in the fear

Not willing to let it out

Some almost holding their breath

For the rest of the year

Sure

Some show cracks

It's inevitable

But who's to know

How many of us will make it

If the next Baby New Year

Is a No-Show

#363 Looks For Meaning In a Vacuum

I have to do something different

I keep saying it every year

But this time I mean it

You are right to show fear

No more buying

Just for the sake of buying

Stocking stuffers

Bought and sold

Just to take up space

Is this what we've reduced it to?

Is buying the foundation of our race?

There are things one really needs

Starting with air, water and food

Shelter and companionship

They go a long way

Some things just keep you alive

Other keep you sane

Beyond those needs

Things get absolutely hazy

Do I really need this iPhone thing?

Or am I just batshit crazy

But the whole thing that started this

What the fuck is Christmas anyways

Is it a day, an event, a movement?

Supposedly the day the Christ child was born

Only to be slaughtered like an animal

Thirty three years on

This celebration of guilt

Has morphed into an unrecognizable form

Just like most modern holidays it seems

Meaning is lost in the commercial memes

Santa Claus, Cupid, and the Easter Bunny

Have come to represent certain holidays

And a corporate opportunity to take in money

But I won't go down the bitter path

It's just that I don't feel it anymore

Using my three mentioned examples

Christmas, Valentines Day, and Easter

I've lost the Christmas spirit

I've no love on Valentines Day

What am I to do

Without the feel of sacrifice and rebirth

On Easter Sunday?

I can't blame anyone

Except for myself

I've taken the offered propaganda

Happily and with gusto

But it's not working anymore

The best I felt this Christmas season

Was when I had no small bills

Yet felt the need to put something in

The red Salvation Army tin

I slipped in a twenty

Folded up almost in embarrassment

Everyone would think I was showing off

Or so my cynicism said

The guy with the bell

He knows what money looks like

Even with the numbers hidden

He made sure to thank me

For my generous donation

I grunted an assent

Turned ad walked away

My Scrooge persona

Not working well that day

Right then though

I felt it

My heart grew three sizes

However you want to describe it

But that's what Christmas really is

It's not buying things

Just so there is something there

Without meaning

It might as well be air

It won't do anyone any good

And I'm done

For the tenth time I am

And I'll do as I said I would

Down with Christmas!

Long live Christmas!

You know what I mean.

#362 Red Leather Imprint

Red chair

Red chair

Are you only a chair?

Covered in supple leather

Stuffed with fuzzy feathers

Smooth and warm

Like someone's skin

One that

I do believe

A certain someone had just sat in

Only recently gone

Their body heat still warm

On the skin

Of the red chair

They sat in

So I sit

In my skin

That I'm in

Skin to skin

With the red chair

That SHE sat in

Smelling the faint scent

You've left behind

Lightly gracing the leather

That same supple red softness

That now caresses my own

It's almost like touching you

This red chair

With it's soft warm skin

Just missing your details

The things that pull at me

Whenever I look in

If I close my eyes

I can see them now

Your doe-brown eyes

Curled lashes

Your grin

Made of shades of pink

White teeth

And your skin

Soft like hot silk

Supple as living velvet

My fingertips tingle

With their memories of you

Your breasts proudly pointing

Outwards from your chest

Your belly firm and sleek

Leading to the place I like best

Trimmed and tended

As a prized garden spot

With latin names

Mons pubis, labia majora and minora

A land where clitoris is king

Where I'd stop and linger

Forgetting the rest of you

As if that were possible

As your long legs

Wrap lovingly around

All this from a chair

A missed meeting

A memory almost faint

A scent clinging to leather

And contact body heat

My mouth tugs into a smile

I slide my cel phone out

I think I still have your number

You can't have gotten far

What with your scent

Your warmth

Your memory

So close

So deep

#361 Slumming It With Netflix Anime

Say

This unrated anime is pretty good

Lots of cartoon boobs

And strappy slinky outfits too

But it's real geek food

That's for sure

I'm just bored

That's all

The storyline isn't bad though

But that's lame

It's like the guys who say

They get the Playboy or Hustler

Just for the articles

That's not me

I don't plan on marrying my girl pillow

Like that guy from Japan

No sir

I'm a real man

Sitting here

In my 3X Sonic the Hedgehog t-shirt

Perfectly respectable

That's me

I have to pause to ponder

Why female space warriors

Wear such outfits

Something between a dominatrix

And an ancient Grecian goddess

Does it further the story?

I find that I just don't care

This Japanese eye candy

Is pretty fun to watch

I just won't tell anyone

It'll be my little secret

I'll have to hide my fanboy status

If I get the tattoo in a secret place

And only watch the show in the closet

I can have little shelves in there too

To display all my collectible vinyl figures

In public

I'll talk football and fast cars

In private

I'll inhale manga and anime

In the dark

I'll masturbate to freaky tentacle sex fantasies

In the light

I'll detail my models with fine hair brushes

Oooh, they have a convention in Reno

I think I'll go

#360 Christmas Dinner

Family

Good for the unspoken

Seeing the unseen

Assuming the worst

Normally around

A supper table

Noisily eating

Looking sideways

Thoughts creeping

Some towards a second helping

Others closer

To being written out of the will

After supper

Comes the dessert

Discussion of things

Uncomfortable in nature

Nervous laughs stepping in

To take the place of true joy

Veiled insults

Pointed accusations

Said with a smile

Dirty looks shot quickly

After the wrong word is said

Nobody know you like family

Nobody ever wins

The children

At their own table

Laughing happily

Eating or picking

With true gusto

Their own little world

I'm jealous it's true

It seems only a short time ago

That I was there

Happily eying the dessert plates

Talking about nothing important

Nothing hurtful

No baggage to unpack

When the booze comes out

It's a welcome sight

It will be the only thing

That keeps me from killing them

This Christmas night.

#359 RIP Father Christmas

I feel dead inside

On this Christmas Day

Father Christmas died

His spirit flown away

He embodied Christmas spirit

And took such great joy

In selecting perfect gifts

For every girl and boy

From infant to adult

His happiness was in the selecting

Peaking in a crescendo

On the day of unwrapping

Eric likes model cars

He'd watch carefully and see

Which were his favorites

To find the best one that could be

Lisa loves this certain doll

Let's learn, read and see

To find the neatest one

And it's accompanying accessory

Karen had something catch her eye

Something shiny or needed

Looking until it's just right

Failure would not be conceded

Money tucked away

All the year long

A budget for Christmas

Financials never wrong

Decorations needed stands

Holiday collections to put on display

Everything Christmas related

The kitchen sink to Santa's sleigh

He started smiling

Around December 1st

Only stopping when a picture was taken

Then he'd make a face, the worst!

Christmas Eve Day was for shopping

Taking his list he'd kept all year

Coming home late overladen

He'd lock himself in a room

To complete all his wrapping

Christmas morning comes soon

Finally time to open gifts

He'd await your reaction

Often telling stories

Of how and why he'd made that selection

Such joy in the holiday

Wasn't kept just to family

Donations were made

To many a worthy charity

To which it's not certain

He didn't speak of who or how much

Charity given was not bragged or spoken of

And he treated it as such

Why was he like that?

I don't really know

Yet another story

Lost to time

Perhaps it was because

Money was often tight

When he was a child

Many gifts a rare sight

Or just the spirit of giving

That he was raised with

And nurtured and grew

With everything he did

All I know

Is that now he is dead

And to me it seems he took Christmas with him

Leaving emptiness instead

"So now your kids don't get to have Christmas?"

It's a question I get a lot

The answer is Yes they absolutely have it

Though my feelings are in a knot

I take great care

In my gift selection

And I'm getting better

Trying to go in the right direction

But I try not to wrap

On Christmas Eve

I try to give to charity

But not as much as he

On Christmas morning

I'll try to be all smiles

Though inside I'm far from happy

Far from it by miles

Christmas mostly seems

Like every other day

Often a little worse

Because Father Christmas

Has passed away

The day becoming less a blessing

More a curse

#358 Building Claus

It was a late night

That's my only defense

For my actions

Both ludicrous and intense

I had to make him real you see

Since I was a child

He has haunted me

Bedtime stories

Dreams and nightmares

In equal measure

Promising everything

Delivering nothing

He's the pimp of the north

Robbing this ho blind

But

He didn't exist

Until two years ago

I know

Because I put him together

At two in the morning

The bar closed down

The owner giving me the stink eye

As Frank and I sat

Three sheets to the wind

And not even close to done

One scheme crazier than the last

Frank finally made a case

And damn if it didn't seem to have a chance

So we were in Glendale in half an hour

Dressed in black

Still drunk as skunks

Busted into the Cryogenics Laboratory

And stole Walt Disney's head

It wasn't his head I wanted

Just what was in it

Next stop

The Los Angeles County Morgue

To find a proper corpse

For this plan to have body

I looked in drawer after drawer

Until I found a likely candidate

Nice

Mid forties

Caucasian male

About eighty pounds overweight

I poked his belly

And it shook

Like a bowl full of jelly

This was our guy!

Frank did a crazy song and dance

And distracted the guards

While I wheeled out  John Doe

To the van in the alley

I set him next to Walt Disney's head

Which was thawing

Back at the lab

And I have no idea how we got there

Tequila is fickle

In what she let's you remember

I got out the bone saws

And tossed one to Frank

He got that look in his eye

And I knew this was just like Christmas

Three hours later

And we were done

Blood was everywhere

Frank wiped his face

And blinked at the sun

Just beginning to shine over the mountains

I didn't have time for a picture though

I grabbed the copper plated clamps

And hooked up the power

Stumbling to the switch

Holding my pounding head

Retching and wishing for a shower

Pulling the lever

Almost wishing it wouldn't work

The body gave a twitch

It's mouth a crooked smirk

Then parting it's lips

It took a breath

Past the grey whiskers

And awoke from death!

First coughing

Then sneezing twice

He sat up slowly

Looking down on us like mice

"HO - HO - HO!"

The throaty laugh filled the lab

It seems he was quite pleased

Not to be on the slab

I smiled at Frank

Frank smiled at me

We both smiled at him

I set up the camera

Taking a picture of us three

Why Walt Disney's head?

You could ask

And you should

I won't take you to task

But I have no time to answer

We're running behind

He's been alive for the second time

For almost two years

And we're almost ready

The sleigh was easy

Just a standard NASA mock up

Paid for by you

The taxpayers

The animals

Not so much

We went through about seventy

Trying to get them to fly

But after some research

Specialized nanobots

Extra modifications

And assorted whatnots

It's almost time

To see my childhood come true

For tonight is Christmas Eve

The perfect debut

The reanimated Walt Disney

Is busy in wardrobe

While Frank loads the sleigh

I'm modifying the harnesses

Some eighty amp cattle prods

ought to make it easier to steer

While flying through the night sky

Pulled by eight rabid cyborg reindeer

Have a Merry Christmas Everybody!

#357 Killing Claus

I killed Santa Claus

It happened ten years ago last night

It was late Christmas Eve

When from outside I'd hear a clatter

So I'd thrown open the sash

To see what was the matter

What I saw defied my experience

It was a nightmare on ice

A crystalline monster

In a red hat trimmed in white

I reached for my gun

Then froze as he turned

Bringing me into his sight

When his cold blue eyes

Locked with mine

I squeezed the trigger

Of my Uzi 9

Millimeter, that is

I emptied the clip

In his general direction

I must confess

My eyes were closed

My left hand raised in deflection

The spent shells rained out of the receiver

Hot to the touch

Try it you'll be a believer

When the smoke cleared

And my ears were still ringing

All that I saw outside

Were some red scraps of cloth

And tufts of white rabbit hide

Sitting innocently nearby

Was a sack of presents

Spilling into the gutter

Next to runner tracks in the snow

Hoofprints in between

Ending about thirty yards down the street

The vehicle itself long gone

Up, up into the sky

After hiding that mess

So that none would suspect

I sat by my fire

With a stiff drink in my hand

Contemplating the wonderful holiday

That I'd just wrecked

            *

Now ten years on

The world is much the same

Though Santa never visits

Some magic must yet be game

For though his terrifying coil

Has left this cold earth

His spirit lingers

And on Christmas Eve

If you stand quietly

Looking straight up

You might see a speck

A small moving light

It's Santa's sleigh and reindeer

Continuing their flight

Blindly and madly

With no Santa Claus in sight

#356 Unwanted Amy

Unwanted Amy

Laid beneath the tree

Unwrapped only this morning

Now forgotten and hard to see

Lying amidst the cast-offs

Torn boxes and cellophane wrapping

Her doll eyes closed

As if she were only napping

Quietly

Unwanted Amy is screaming

The little girl she was given to

Had made a face for a second

Before smiling and being thankful

The little girl had wanted an iPod

Her aunt had selected Amy instead

Because that's what little girls should have

Dolls whose eyes will close when laid in bed

The little girl did not agree

This doll could not play mp3's

Or play Angry Birds and Tiny Towers

And had thrown Unwanted Amy

Below the trash at the bottom of the tree

If the doll got lost

She thought

Maybe she'd be able to cry

And get the iPod instead

Unwanted Amy wanted to run away

But her doll legs lacked motivation

There was no nerves or muscles

To start the ambulation

When the trash was gathered

Unwanted Amy was swept up too

Tied in the hefty sack

Half covered in last night's stew

To make a last sad trip

In a green trash truck

To the place

Where misfit toys really end up

The trains with square wheels

The birds who love to swim

The planes that cannot fly

The Charlie's in the box

Of the real world

Smashed and spread out

Layered and buried deep

On the modern rubber bottomed

County landfill garbage heap

It will take Unwanted Amy

Over four-hundred and fifty years

Of dry doll tears

To fully biodegrade

All the while

Never having been loved

Or played with

Welcome

To the Land of Unwanted Christmas Toys

#355 Krampus Loves The Naughty

Some have one

Upon each shoulder

An angel on the right

A devil on the left

Pinocchio had Jiminy Cricket

Me?

I have Santa on one side

While on the other

Is the horrid Krampus

When I pushed Sally in the snow

Krampus made me do it

Santa said not to

But Krampus offered me candy

Santa brings you things at Christmas

But only if you are nice

Krampus offers you bribes

Which are immediate

And twice as nice

I lit the school on fire once

Krampus told me to

In exchange for doing so

He gave me a shiny motorcycle

And bailed me out of jail too

"They "

Say that someday I'll pay

For all the bad I've done

But in my opinion

While I've never gotten a thing on Christmas

I've gotten good stuff every other day

Krampus

Will come and stuff you in his sack

He'll take you away!

He'll make you his snack!

Whatever

Krampus is my friend

He advises on Final Four picks

He's my wingman

He helps me pick up chicks

With Krampus by my side

I've milked the economy dry

I run the biggest bank in Manhattan

I use ten banks to keep my coin in

That doesn't mean I'm not cautious though

I have a safe room in the basement

Stocked with guns and ammo

It's own oxygen supply

Batteries and snacks for which to die

Every Christmas Eve

I retreat to that bunker

I lock the doors

And I don't come out

Until December 26th

In the afternoon even

I don't want to run afoul

Of any strange timezones

No sir

Krampus won't find me

I'll be nobody's Christmas dinner

Let alone some hairy horned monster

Who hands out bad advice

From my left shoulder

#354 Just Drawn That Way

Overly muscled

Black panthers watch

Swimmers making laps

Left to right

Right to left

Golden eyes swivel

Following each aquanaut

Barely breathing

Poised to spring

Pumped full of steroids

Black panthers quiver

Their judgement addled

Tempers running hot

Kick board trailing a swimmer

Glides on by

Golden eyes slit

Nostrils flare

If only the two dimensional

Would swap to three

Black panthers would run free

Blood would flow in blue waters

Frustrated with reality

Black panthers

Go back to staring

Not moving

Not breathing

Overly muscled

Mascot mural upon the wall

#353 Occupy My Head

Occupy my head

Set up your tents

Get right behind my face

Push out all the bullshit

Be one heart

One mind

One place

Occupy my head

Sit down

Make yourselves at home

Let's whiteboard some ideas

On the tiled bathroom wall

Roadmap in my living room

Open the dreary curtains

Dispel the ignorant gloom

Occupy my head

The man

Has lost his authority to me

Laws made to fence me in

Are just fucking paper to me

Occupy my head

Your food does not sustain me

It keeps me breathing

That's all

Love and ideas

Are what really feeds

Occupy my head

Pull the broken system down

Burn the bricks and mortar

Drive the corruption

From this town

A knife for the politician

A rope for the banker

Flay the lawyers alive

Occupy my head

Leave the peace to Ghandi

Mobilize our country brothers

With their arsenals underground

Rest our hopes upon our will

They'll bring the war to us

We will give them their fill

Occupy my head

Is that how this will end?

Whose will is stronger

Theirs to forcefully break us?

Or ours to peacefully defend?

Time is ticking

Seconds are dying to see

Occupy my head

From sea to shining sea

#352 House Round and Crumbling Down

Forgotten

In a corner of the yard

Stood a faded brick relic

A fading shadow of Sault Ste. Marie

Turntable pit

Filled with water and debris

Fenced off for safety

The tracks don't lead here anymore

Couplers and trucks

Litter the area

Cast-offs from daily operations

Reminders of activity covered in weeds

Darkness impenetrable from outside

Peering in through dirty windows

Reveals nothing of any secrets

A closer look is needed

The door isn't even locked

The grim 'Keep Out' signs

Are thought to be enough

But I don't see those anymore

Eyes adjusting to the dim

Afraid to move until they do

Light streams down here and there

From holes in the roof

Pillars of white light

Showing an incomplete snapshot

Of life today inside the roundhouse

The mind is left to fill in the gaps

Here there is train track

Rusty with age

A spike half pulled up

Rust glimmering wetly in the light

There a pit between two rails

Deep enough for a man to stand

To oil the axles and have a lunch

The bottom unseen under a thick gunk

Slowly eyes adjust

Seeing what can be seen

Nothing but a shambles is left

Showing tracks in the building

At shallow angles to each other

Covered in dirt and must

Not much to see

Until I turn around

Barely making out the blackboard

Hanging on the wall next to the office

Proclaiming itself to be

Round House 8c Safety Bulletin

Things half erased living upon it

The bottom most item

Written in large hurried letters:

Last one out

Please lock the door

#351 I Am Anonymous

The shape

Familiar

The smile

Haunting

The mustache

Fabulous

An empty mask

To be worn incognito

A face of justice

For the people

To be shared

To be passed around

An empty automaton

Waiting to be occupied

To be used for purpose

A champion of truth

A puzzle in the mist

A puppet

Standing slack

Pull the strings

When the situations demands

Give your ideas wings

Not so much a shield

To stand behind

As it is a stage

To act your mind

By the people

For the people

Of the people

Everyone

No one

Anonymous

Is that you Guy Fawkes?

Or is it just me