Sunday, 25 December 2011

Christmas day poems

Happy Christmas, all.  I'm in a poetry writing mood today.  I'll add poems here as I write them. Let's see how many I can manage.


Forced tears
by Huckleberry Hax

When you can't cry,
squeeze your eyes tight and
cover them;
wail;
beat the table blindly.

If it helps, think of someone you loved.
Or invert your eyelids.

If nothing else works, focus
on what will happen to you
if your absence of grief is noted.


Christmas shopping
by Huckleberry Hax

On the way, a
red car cuts across me at the roundabout.
Engine over-revving, he flicks Vs at me
through the window as he passes.  His
skin is white like thawing snow.  His lips
make a frozen
F.


Praise
by Huckleberry Hax

To bring up at that point she did oft’ disappoint was a case of exceptionally bad timing.
To push on ahead about poems not read was a hole dug that offered no climbing.
My brother might say that the mater’s okay but a fool primes a fuse that waits priming.
In concession today, she did casually say she dislikes ‘those new poems’ which aren’t rhyming.


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