Saturday, January 1, 2011

Ms Night Owl -- Poetry 2011



Skulking off to bed before midnight,
succumbing to desire for darkness,
curling on one side, she tried to ignore
the New Year’s fireworks exploding.
Against a pristine clear star studded sky,
neighbors near and far welcoming
baby 2011 with rockets bursting in air…
echoes of explosions bounce across
frigid air through windows and drawn shades
to eardrums buried under comforters warmth.
Her immediate plan was on owning this next decade.
Safely ensconced in drowsiness, she muttered
solutions to unwritten resolutions…
taking her mind to the extreme she began to note:
Next year she would dress up like a sugar plum faerie and do her own rendition of their dance for her friends.
Next year because she’d fallen out of love recently, she’d figure out how not to be dependent on someone else for her happiness or ego fulfillment…
Next year, she’d not be afraid to look one another in the eye. Then shoot... keeping in mind it’s always best to aim at her target.
Next year, she’d recognize a gift horse when it’s punching her in the mouth.
Next year, she’d remember to put non-breakable ornaments on the bottom half of the tree…
Next year, she’d tell these cats that if they don't straighten up, she’d take them all back to the pound… and do it.
Definitely next year, she’d get a big tattoo of puckered lips on her right cheek adorned with Old English
- Kiss My Arse

1/1/2011

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