After the roar of the party

I step out into the cold silence

breathe white steam before me

a bull out of the barn

Feel the solid crunch of leather boots on fresh flakes

the crisp leaves breaking

as each leg swings and sinks deep

I survey my land and smile

Something refreshing about being buried

in snow

Superbowl Sunday

Super Sunday has arrived The Colts and the Saints will go head to head, shoulder to shoulder, one will win and one will lose. Which team to choose? That is the question. Will it be Payton or Brees? Which one will lead their team all the way to a victory. Time will tell as the clock ticks and as kickoff time nears, both teams will have to dispel their fears. Get out there and play some football and listen to the referee's call. In the end, there will be a winner, but there will also be a loser, and then it's all over until next year. And as the year turns into another season, for this there is no rhyme or reason, but does anyone remember the losing team from the year before?

Groundhog Day

In Punxatawney, on a hill Out of his hole comes Phil He's going to let us knowI f we'll have 6 more weeks of snow. His nose quivers and his beady eyes gleam The sun is shining down its beam His evil little smirk gives it away He's going to see his shadow on this day. It's the one day we wish for rain And the clouds to take away our pain We want the spring and warmth and flowers But Phil is shining in his brightest hour. He loves to watch us squirm in despair As he sees his shadow and runs back in there Back into his hole deep in the ground Where he can laugh at us without making a sound. I'm going to make me some woodchuck stew And chuck some wood as the woodchucks do Build a big fire and roast that overgrown rat And then feed the leftovers to my cat. He'll rue the day he saw his shadow His days are numbered and the numbers are low That rotten rodent is going to be toast And you're all invited to my woodchuck roast.

Shiv Overdose

As we speak, my fingers are writing checks.

Thursday Haiku for Super Bowl 44

Like hobbits true blue

we seek one Super Bowl Ring

must have our precious

Hurricane Colts

A corn country wind

Hurricane Colts heads down South

Blue skies for Blue Crew

Super Trip

Colts fan caravan

hot drive down to Miami

singing ourselves horse

I knew you once

I knew you once Like I knew myself Felt it When you were hurting When you were happy When you were thinking I could read your moods I knew you once Like I knew myself Read More at http://sashisspace.wordpress.com/

Membrane On The Mind

I once met a woman who said she's osmotic
I said, "That's okay, but Dear, tell me what if
some might dissuade, perhaps go astray
and let it all please continue reading...

No My Pet

I am not a cat person
nor do I keep a dog
share no especial equine love
lack affection for the frog

If I were named poet laureate

If I were named poet laureate
I would put it on my tombstone
Print it in my obituary
Place gold stickers on all my books

Morning Routine

scraping the stubble

clean, smooth I drag the blade cut

slap my face awake

Jingoism

That is the irony of an interrupted

prayer, a lovely day that cracks lives.

Jan

"Can you Distribute No-Shiv? Ask me How!"

Dead letters

I thought

you would be everywhere,

in every hidden face

behind gold.

Read on ?

The Letter

As my fingertips glide on
the faded page,
now aged to a golden hue,
your words touch me once again,
parting thoughts from a true friend
lost to the everlasting.
continue here

Christmas Cards

Christmas cards trickle in

one, a few, a batch of ten

from family and accumulated friends

Some close, some you never see

but most of them ... entire poem

December 21st

New snow dusts the yard / cold, grey Indiana morn / jeans crack, chafe each step

Santa Runs A Sweatshop

Ol’ Santa runs a sweatshop,
that’s what the papers say.
He never gives the elves time off,
not even Christmas day.
I read it in the paper.
They told it to be true.
I read it in the New York Times.
Oh what are we to do? please continue reading...

Hunting

Deer alert and still,
stare at motionless hikers,
snapshot breaks the spell.

http://www.poetic-alchemy.blogspot.com

Drowning

Lifting lips From a now swollen nipple Grinning down at brown pools Meant for drowning in Expectantly watching for some sign of love on the edge of reason Read full poem at http://sashisspace.wordpress.com/2009/06/26/drowning/