The casualties of holidays
Heavily outweigh
The triumphant celebrations of numbered victories
Emotions left unexpressed
Scattered, stripped and barren
As pine trees littering driveways
Awaiting uncaring, anonymous undertakers
to haul them away:
Twinkling tinsel'd refuse
loved only briefly, then discarded
Disposed children's playthings -- decorations;
Sentiments annually sealed
Intoxications, feasts
Obnoxious tonic tinted laughter
Hanging stale and empty in the air
Punctuated by a poignant belch.
Bunnies, rotting un-hatched eggs of ill-conceived intent
They will have no resurrection
Like his Holiness for whom they are sacrificed
Symbology so fervent,
So impregnated with it's respective allotment in time
That the lingering ghosts of unity
Are overlooked during the inevitable overhaul
Memories glanced in archives of albums
The expressions run like festive face paint;
the belated reminders of joyousness:
fading, draining, departing with time
Simply serve nostalgia's weeping smiles.
Sense of loss of innocence
Clinging desperately as I did
As moments passed by;
Years of repetitious dance
Have I become as dispensable?
Meaningless and trite
Only as prim as a well dressed turkey
Hidden beneath ornate adornments
Prime for the carving and dissection.
My presence is only translucent at best
Draped beneath the cover of another holiday occasion
Another yellowed aging greeting card to tuck away,
Another hallmark message to meaninglessly forget
As soon as the tears dry on the envelope.
I always cry at midnight.
These days when the child begs to stay
The adult reduces in so much clutter
Exasperated,
Barely returning to monotony is the failed gift of relief.
Frustrated,,
By the silk screen of the promise of the seasons.
Defeated,
I have seen the damage done
The unloved Jack o' lanterns
The skeletons of forgotten firs
And the sadness that clearly is more tender than the remains
Of cakes and pies melted, drying icing
Smeared significance,
Messages unreadable like tomorrows thoughts.
I want these days to be simply days; fuck Holy
Can't I be hugged...
...just because?
Author notes
Written on Easter while I was commited in a psych clinic
Honest critisim
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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Well done. Send it to a mag for some money
Might as well make some profit on the time you used in psych.
I've been trying to do something with the time I passed.
I like the image you describe here:
"As pine trees littering driveways
Awaiting uncaring, anonymous undertakers
to haul them away:
Twinkling tinsel'd refuse
loved only briefly, then discarded
Disposed children's playthings -- decorations..."
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SHAME BOX:
effertlesslyrandom
myheavyheart
SnowShadow
For not commenting on a featured poem
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Things are so often displayed, then thrown away (because secretly, their intrinsic value was never realized.) Better to hang them and label them something for now. Ah, cruel world. Anyhow, good write Bad Poet. Lot's of imagery, substance and depth. Glad to see it featured.
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I agree with crimsonangel. Those lines were the best of the whole thing. Not saying the rest wasn't any good, it was but i just loose myself in those words. great write keep up the good work!
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bold fearless write
I so totally agree, today was some sort of Holiday too,
Columbus day? I am suppose to build a ship, set an
altar out with the NINA, Pinta and Santa Maria...????
even saying Happy Columbus Day makes people just laugh.
Brilliant use of words, you chose them well, and the
imagery was clear raw bold and fearless too.
Great write, keep it up!
ears2hearyou
Kathleen : ))
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Wow, the imagry of this is amazing. And the word play is so descriptive. At first I was guessing it would just be about how family gatherings can become meaningless, but then it developed into something much deeper, and truely had a meaningful message. I thought it was a wonderful expression, even though it came at a difficult time for you.
*hugs* (hope you don't mind, I don't get much of a chance to give them out anymore.)
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Nice....
A little morbid and derranged... perhaps why I like it soooo much.... my favorite line is:
Bunnies, rotting un-hatched eggs of ill-conceived intent
Gorgeous... lol... i like rotting.... even wrote a poem about rotting hands..... -
I have been in that place too, psychically and emotionally!
I really felt your words here!
Well done
♥ Unity
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we all find those days where we feel we've been forgotten or left behind and simply want someone to care if only for a little time.
wouldn't it be nice if someone was to simply reach out and touch someone where it matters the most?
Keep penning on one stroke at a time!
Bill
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hey, this is very good!
good job writing this! I really like it. you did a wonderful job getting those emotions out! keep up the good work!!!!!!!! 
Crimson -
Wow. This is some poem that you have written here.
I read your author notes and that explains the deep melancholy and frustration that I was feeling in your poem. I thought that it was pretty well written for how long it is. Not that long poems are bad but it's just harder to hold your readers attention. The only thing I could think to say about this is that maybe you want to think about creating line breaks and maybe letting some of the sentences be long than others and that where they need to be. Because I found myself losing my place a few times because they're aren't line breaks and those spaces help me with reading something. Just a thought though. 
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good job
Emotions left unexpressed
Scattered, stripped and barren
that was the best lines... great job on this! keep up the good work!
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