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… after Clement Clarke Moore‘s “Twas the Night Before Christmas …
‘Twas All Hallows’ Eve, and all through the house
Every creature was stirring, even our pet mouse
Oh the pumpkins were carved with very great care
In the hope that trick-or-treaters soon would be there
The children were agitated, not one in her bed
As visions of sweet treats danced in their heads
Dad and I in our costumes and me with my cap
Had settled by the door listening for the first rap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
We sprang to our feet to check on the matter
We threw open our door to offer sweet stash
While witches flew by, all glitter and flash
And the moon on the rise and the dark ground below
Gave lustre and bluster to ghosts on the go
And then what to our startled eyes should appear,
But a miniature ballerina among goblins, one bear
Now, Alice! Now Ernie! Now Jimmy! Now Chris!
Come little Tony, big Brandy and Trish
To the top of the stairs, don’t any one fall …
Now dash away dash away dash away all
And that’s it for my contribution to Halloween this year! Wishing you many sweets and no cavities.
©2010, poem and photograph, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved
Hangover
at the grocery ~
Meeting accidentally in the wine section
you sip me shyly with gentle conversation
and read the label on my selection,
your hand brushes mine, a sensual appeal
It’s for drunken pasta! I explain,
you laugh and say you’d rather drink than eat it
your eyes are Wedgwood blue and hold a wistful smile
you imagine I’m something fine, a vintage port
you’re flushed with the fancied sweetness
I could drink you too, a sturdy Bordeaux
but I no longer deal well with hangovers
To the Frog at the Door
if you kiss a frog, so I’ve been told
there’s a chance he’ll turn into a prince
a frog prince, which means you have
you absolutely have to love him
and i’ve loved a few frogs, at least
i think i have, they never became princes
nor did their love morph me into a princess
i’m still a cranky old crow, we are what we are,
loving frogs and crows isn’t transformative
….why should it be?
one woman’s frog is another woman’s prince
…….as for this old crow
………….she loves flying solo
…….not that you asked
© 2013, poems, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved; Illustration ~ Wine and fruit photo courtesy of Jean Boufort, Public Domain Pictures. net and The Frog Prince by Walter Crane (1845-1915), U.S. Public Domain
Imprecise language is misleading and our job as poets and writers is to tell it like it is. Here, George Carlin (1937-2008), American counter-culture stand-up comedian, social critic, philosopher, satirist, actor and writer, shows us just how unjust, confusing – and often just plain silly – euphemism is.
VIEWER ALERT: Carlin’s vocabulary will offend some people.
Photo courtesy of Alex Lozupone under CC BY-SA 4.0 license
Jamie Dedes' THE POET BY DAY Webzine 