Happy Hollow-Days?

Prelude…

Ah, the time honored Holiday Traditions
Hitherto robust, cheery and tasteful
Nowadays busted, dreary and wasteful
Cannot live sans the former
Alas, must exist with the latter

No thanks, to the headless and soulless
Who only see convention in political rally terms
And contort holidays to conform to their flattened sphere
It begs a rundown of their rundown, festering festivities
Hence, this hammered down, Hollow-Days Roster

November…

Thanksgiving’s intent, once-upon-a-time pure
A day to display gratitude for each fall’s harvest
Yet, ’twas utterly corrupted by past, white man’s greed
Pummeled by Manifest Destiny’s – Genocide’s 1 – 2 punch
Left mass slaughter of Indigenous North Americans, in its wake

Today’s whites hotly deny critical thinker youths such truths
The uncouth fail to see how bygone mentalities of white men
Were precursors to today’s accursed; their MAGA-fest Destiny
Native Americans’ descendants sure to “NO” the RSVPs
Of white inviters, who’d have them over FOR holiday supper

December…

Christmas misbehavior; to upstage a dissed savior?
Sighing gifters hurriedly tack on / tuck in gift receipts
Wisely anticipate the ungrateful gifted
Ingrates neither gifted in smarts nor of wise disposition
All discourtesy of ass backward, parental rearing

Giftees offend gifters; greedily, rush mall-ward
Clutching shopping bagged gift rejects
Sweaty fingers and palms itching to parlay
Liberal return policies into pocketed stone-cold cash
Happy Birthday, Jesus?

December/January…

New Year’s Eve orgy
Animal House magnitude
Nude, drunken revelry
Resolutions Dead On Arrival
Long before each avowed recitation’s echo dies

New Year’s Day; morning after
Misery’s miasma; achy body; pounding head
Multiple over the bowl, beer belly evacuations
Hurled disgusting egesta
Along with epithet laced “never again” ruminations

February…

Valentine’s Day; Cupid’s arrow, awry
Finds deplorable cads ISO of (p)lay
Bamboozling; booze plying their prey
Despicably deeming victims altar sacrifice
Songsmiths asking, “What’s love got to do with it?”

Deep in rude dudes’ brain dead heads
Indecent proposals lead to “have-to” weds
Crossed fingers, behind backs, do back grooms’ “I dos.”
Divorce attorneys, so impatient, they consider
Tuxing up as groomsmen; gowning up as bridesmaids

May / November + July / September / February

Memorial / Veterans Days
Independence / Labor and Presidents’ Days
Original intent buried by a sundry of distractions
Picnics wallowing in fatty animal flesh; awash with stiff libations
Major league play by plays, parades and pyrotechnics

To Upstage Soldiers; valiant, selfless; both survivor and fallen
Marginalize Founders; devalue, their on paper, Democracy
Demean Workers: low paid, overworked, union busted, outsourced
Bastardize: The very Presidency a sitting prez attempted to topple
Ah, the mucked up, nouveau Hollow-Day traditions

`

`

`

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

`

`

`

`

`

`

`

Vile, Volatile Vigilante

`

Vile, volatile vigilante
Conceived in grubby grotto
Gestated in amniotic venom
Poisoned by toxic masculinity
Reared in evil environs’ dungeon

Vile, volatile vigilante
Schooled weekdays weakly
Sunday unschooled bleakly
Untutored in civics and ethics
Stripped naked of civility and integrity

Vile, volatile vigilante
Radicalized by hate traffickers
Brainwashed by propagandists
Sheeted/hooded Deep South white
Shirted World War II Scheisse brown

Vile, volatile vigilante
Militarized by gun nut sociopaths
Mollycoddled by militant gestapo cops
Freed by jury of like-minded, brain-dead peers
Unpunished by headless, bench warmer judges

Vile, volatile vigilante
Rewarded handsomely for ugly mayhem; murder
Morphed stick-figure role model
Trotted out fraudulent hero
Dubbed the abnormal new normal

Vile, volatile vigilante
Elevated soon to Sheriff?
Appointed soon to the Bench?
Elected soon to Congress?
Installed soon in Oval Office?

`

`

`

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

`

`

`

`

`

`

`

The Sincerest Form of Flattery

`

Intro: The proverb sayeth, “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery”. And that’s my intent as I post my poetic reaction to the superb work of a new WP acquaintance of mine; who shall go nameless unless she chooses to post a comment; at which point, upon her establishing a link / post title, you can read her original; i.e., the very pièce de résistance, which inspired my pale by comparison knockoff, as follows…

`

True blue
symbol of honor
like a calm summer pond
Above, bluebird flocks take flight to
the sky
Soon seen poised in tree branches
trust is felt everywhere
feels like august
arrived

`

Know that I would never violate her copyright; so if you do wind up reading these words, it’ll be due to my receiving her permission to go to (word) press. Should she opt not to comment / link to her site, I shall respect that decision, too.

My heartfelt gratitude since, obviously, she has green lighted, at the very least, my above endeavor.

`

`

`

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

`

`

`

`

`

`

`

Flight of Fancy

On 25 July 2016, even while our global society was still enjoying the calm before the Donald J. Trump storm, my gut was telling me that that deplorable wannabe, if empowered, would pose an existential threat to my homeland and our home world; the likes of which humankind has not witnessed since WW-II.

Feeling bowled over by this palpable sense of foreboding, my fight or flight instinct instantly kicked in. My being a pacifist, flight was my only option, YET, with nowhere to run, all that was left was to hide within fantasy’s realm.

Ergo, I composed and posted the following Sci-Fi short story, which played out, back then, via a 21 stanza poem; which now replays, anew, requiring only a scant, asterisked revision (changing stanza 17’s “upon” to “anew”) in order to forewarn that even tho DJT was ballot box deposed in 2020, if re-empowered, come 2024, he’d pose, anew, that very same existential threat.

In rereading my poem, the escapism afforded me a bit of solace. It’s my hope that you can experience this too.

`

Why oh why are we cursed? What’s the cause, bizarre dreams?
Ones, which lock tight our muscles, and stifle our screams.
While real world type nightmares, can inculcate fright,
There’s far more to my strange dream, this midsummer night.

From toss and turn slumbers, I abruptly awaken,
Are night terrors at fault, for my feeling so shaken?
I cannot help but wonder. What’s the cause? Who’s to blame?
Was The Voice really real, which had called me by name?

The whole room is spinning, my head is a reeling,
Try as I do, I can’t shake that weird feeling.
I’m not buzzed on booze, doped on drugs, No, not my scene,
So what the Hell won’t permit me to feel calm, serene?

`

I hide beneath blankets, pillows cover my ears,
Such childish defenses, can’t fight grown up fears,
Bits and snatches besiege me, my memory cache,
A fleeting image bursts forth, like a forked lighting flash.

Tries to snag my dream frags, are a task truly daunting,
Creepy, will-o’-the-wisp, not too unlike a haunting.
Revelation now strikes me, I nearly scream,
It dawns on me how, this is far from mere dream.

As I lie face up fretting, wide awake in my bed,
Decibels grow intense, the sounds spike in the red,
Were I to tell anyone, would I lose all my cred?
OMG! Once again The Voice talks in my head!

`

It knows all I know! All I think!! I think so!!!
“Yes we do”, it responds, “ESP’s our MO.”
I then pose the question, “Are you friend or foe?”
It drones, “Let’s meet in the woods. Just follow our glow!”

I’m enraptured, intrigued, entranced, in a daze,
A lightshow backlights closed curtains, rivets my gaze.
I’m suffused with blue hues, pastel greens, purples, limes,
Tick-tocking so softly, twice the clock chimes.

In awe of the unknown, I lunge for the phone,
Press handset to ear, yet detect no dial tone,
I shout in the mouthpiece, “I can take this no more!”
The Voice in my mind says, “Egress your back door!”

`

Deadbolt clicks, doorknob rattles, all hinges creek,
Which way should I go, in our game, hide and seek?
Perched atop porch, my skyward stretch and a yawn,
Precede my two downward steps, my stroll across lawn.

I enter the woods, the nighttime chill’s everywhere,
Watch pale firefly flickers, both on land, in mid air.
Starlit sparkles above, twigs snap beneath feet,
I cannot help but wonder, whom on Earth I shall meet?

Looking skyward, I spot three disks, fly in formation,
They light up wood’s clearing, our shared destination,
Blue hues, pastel purples, all bathe the expanse,
Instinct warns I should flee, while I’ve still got the chance!”

`

Yet, Earth has no future, due to despots so manic,
They scare me more than ETs, ergo I don’t panic.
Silver saucers touch down, the pilots appear,
I approach, we shake hands, there’s no need for fear.

They’re large headed, gray skinned, but that’s not important,
It’s big thoughts that count, here, our behavior, comportment,
They seem to be stunned, by my no-nonsense amity,
As if fully expecting, a first contact calamity.

Our telepathic connection, our meld, mind to mind,
Greatly aids close encounters, of the third kind.
I feel just like Armstrong, who, need I remind,
Once took “one small step”, “giant leap for mankind”!

`

But our facial expressions, all the sudden, turn sad,
We’re all keenly aware, that my world has gone mad.
ETs tell me it’s too late, that needless to say,
Tyrants, who crave Armageddon, can’t stave off Doomsday!

ETs have heard about DT, they appraise him as dim,
Since they’ve seen Earth’s near future, they know that it’s grim.
Once this narcissist despot, anew*, world stage, encroaches,
He nukes the whole world! Sole survivors? Cockroaches!

ETs next make an offer, I cannot rebuff,
I can leave Earth, forever, avoid the times tough,
They plan to rescue ten thousand, save our helix double,
Transplant us light-years away, to a world free of trouble.

`

My thoughts? I’ll go gladly, the zillions of miles,
And this lights up our eyes, turns our frowns into smiles,
Here on Earth there are too few, who care about me,
So, off to distant stars, planets, is where I shall flee.

I enter their starship, we prepare for our flight,
They’ll provide all I need, I’ll be traveling light,
We lift off, zoom outward, soon Big Blue’s a mere dot,
I bid, “Farewell cruel world”, though I know it will not.

The starfield blurs brightly, as our ship starts to gleam,
As we attain speed of light, we become a light beam,
But the whiteness of linen, replaces white light,
Back in my bed, my dream dies, in the dark dead of night.

`

`

`

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

`

`

`

`

`

`

`

Dear Dad

`

It’s been one third a century
since your passing away

Which unfreezes these stanzas
this November numb day

While trite singsong simplicity
may tend to distract

It’s my heartfelt sincerity
which is steadfast fact

True, our outlooks had differed
as most fathers’ sons’ do

A timeworn, hand-me-down trait
DNA programmed by you?

But, what matters most now
is my poem’s warm ending line

My I love / miss you missive
Son signed with sunshine

`

`

`

`

`

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

`

`

`

`

`

`

`

Death Knell of the Red DotLess Bell

`

CommonMan’s blogsite SITS atop a social network platform
No products, philosophies and professional services to push
Simply offered up, pro bono, outpourings of heartfelt honesty
Minus hollow, superfluous, stick-figure, smiley face optimism

Content apparently more relevant to author than most readers
Ending up little more than publicly displayed word documents
Submitted to the platform’s daily readers; in theory, 2 million
Eternally grateful for crossing life’s paths with the, in reality, 2

Of the 1,999,998 dispassionate passersby, who could read me?
They seldom appraise content likable and/or comment-worthy
Their interest drops off soon after the clicked follow moment
Ergo, the WordPress, red dot-less bell serves as death knell

CommonMan’s blogsite DIES atop a social network platform
No products, philosophies and professional services to push
Simply offered up, pro bono, outpourings of heartfelt honesty
Minus hollow, superfluous, stick-figure, smiley face optimism

Eternally grateful for crossing life’s paths with the, in reality, 2
Eternally grateful for crossing life’s paths with the, in reality, 2
Eternally grateful for crossing life’s paths with the, in reality, 2
Eternally grateful for crossing life’s paths with the, in reality, 2

`

`

`

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

`

`

`

`

`

`

`

Isle of Sublime

`

Once upon a time
On the Isle of Sublime…

Ruled the rare, Inc-free Statesman; untainted by grime
Genuine article newshawks, shunned yellow slime
The hubbub of life, rarely out-rang the wind chime

Living wage, full employment, meant no life of crime
No work-a-day “ladders”, proved too tuff to climb
The shopkeepers’ price tags, did not outshine dime

Tourists and natives, shared the stage limelight-lime
No observable shoulder, ever displayed the cold rime
Alas, such island, idyllic, is just nursery rhyme

`

`

`

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

`

`

`

`

`

`

`

King Con: Quick Limerick #112

`

King Con knows not, the diff ‘tween right and wrong
He reeks racism; seeks Fascism strong
He’s flabby and indolent
So crabby and insolent
He’d scare the crap out of his peer, King Kong

`

`

`

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

`

`

`

`

`

`

`

One Act Daft Wordplay Play

`

`

The vigilant, diligent gent, Brent, lent a cent
to brilliant, militant, tenement tenant, Trent;
who spent it to rent a tent for his pet, pent-up
serpent; hellbent to dissent; via sibilant vent.

`

The End

`

`

`

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

`

`

`

`

`

`

`