Dear Diary, It's Winter Again, Cornfed [sci fi books to read .txt] 📗

The Obligatory Winter Poem Leading Into Other Poems

Winter is the time of the year
Where one must count the days,
Since the last time one had a tan
And the last time warmth took a stay.

The snow on the ground;
The flurries in the air.
St. Nick should wear his snow grips
And bring me some summer flare.

It’s not that I don’t like winter.
It’s not that I worship the spring.
But jogging 10 miles in the snow
Is an act only my grandpa would sing.

“When I was young, we marched 10 miles in the snow!”
Now that’s quite the funny school day rendition.
He should have just skipped his classes
And reported hazardous traveling conditions

But it does seem that winter gets a bad rap
As if the devil covered up our sunny parade.
Then again, I’ve heard similar said about the beach;
“The devil invented bikinis!” my grandpa would say.

I guess as the first bit of winter happens upon me
It’s certainly fun to dress up in a coat.
Fashion is a fun excursion in the cold
Since you can experiment with the bold.

Deer and birds run around.
Wine and a woman are found in town.
The cold puts us in closed quarters.
With each other, human or another.

And I hear of towns far away
Where all babies are born in the summer.
Seems the cold keeps couples indoors
And apparently naked on the floor.

As for me, I really don’t see winters direction,
But I notice how things go different.
And I will try and put these into poems
And perhaps pay winter some due attention.


Cold Beer

Winter is a cold time of the year
Except for those in South America.
And a few other warm countries
Such as New Guinea and Africa.

In other places it’s always cold,
A barren wasteland of ice.
Just ask my friend the Eskimo
Winter is year round and not so nice.

But there is one thing that is universal,
The underlying current of it clearer than faith.
It’s the fact that anywhere you go
Good Beer is always served cold.


Fireplace

All year long my fireplace is left alone,
Except for the dog...
Who likes to wander...
And finds himself sniffing at the grate.

Then I turn on the gas logs
Cause real wood is such a pain.
And then my dog gets too close
And singes the hair on his mane.


Feliz Navidad

I don’t know much Spanish.
English is my native tongue.
But our friends south of here
Know how to make Christmas sound fun.

While America sings the same old songs,
Somehow associating winter with bliss.
The celebration never ends in Brazil
And this phrase is never far from your lips.

You don’t need winter to find a reason
To lift your head up high;
Maybe we should celebrate Christmas in June?
And learn to see December with new eyes.


Homeless

When it gets cold all mourn the homeless
“My how miserable they must be!”
When it gets warm all curse the homeless
“Get a job and quit bothering me!”

The greatest equalizer to anyone's plight,
Isn’t the cold nor the pain.
It’s the view we take of their journey
And whether we are willing to move past the same.

It would only take one cold winter
For a sane man to get the hell off the streets.
A dozen prayers would go up
And a dozen job offers he would meet.


Smoking

I’d rather just smoke in the Winter
And leave my lungs free during the rest.
Isn’t that the purpose of the dreary cold?
To find the enjoyment of what you love the best?


License to Gain Weight

Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!
“Momma, this desert is good!”
Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!
“Pass me that slice if you could!”

Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!
“I think my tummy is sore!”
Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!
“Cookies and milk are to die for!”

Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!
Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!
I got my holiday license for free
Gaining weight is so fun and easy.


Santa Claus

If there was ever a man who kept his motives hidden
Was that Wintertime man,
With a beard and a sleigh,
Who kept showing up at conversations during dinner.

Was I good? Was I bad?
Where was the rule book?
Was Santa happy?
Or was Santa sad?

Then one day I found some presents,
Marked “From Santa” on the label.
It was 6 weeks before Christmas
And still warm enough for girls to show their navel

“Have you been a good boy today?”
“No I have not Mama.”
“Careful, you know Santa is watching!”
“No Mom, he’s already in the Bahamas.”


The Tanning Bed

Pasty skin, winter chapped lips,
This is not how I should look!
Who stole my glow?
Must be the damned cold and snow.

Hello my dear friend!
Artificial light on my tummy...
I can feel the depression slip away
The sun, fake or not, is so so yummy!


The Outhouse

My grandpa doesn’t like modern advances
From the internet to cable TV.
He doesn’t even have central air
And he still walks outside to pee.

One winter, grandpa disappeared
We didn’t see him for a day.
My uncle found him stuck in the outhouse
Frozen stiff without a word to say.

The joke at the funeral was which killed him first…
The heart attack or the cold?
I still think it was grandma’s cooking.
Her dumplings were not that great.


The Little Engine That Could Not

There was once a little train engine
That hadn’t read a book on how to be a train
He learned from the bully at school
And found himself up to his neck in pain.

He slapped his hands at the teacher.
He chased a baby bird.
He pushed the little girl.
Who was petting a little squirrel.

He threw a stick at the dog.
He stuck some tape on the cat.
He shot a BB at Little Timmy,
Who was going for a swimmy.

He said a cuss word to the preacher.
He drew pictures at church.
He stepped on the toe of his mom,
Who was getting ready for the prom.

He put ink in the water fountain.
He threw a ball at the coach.
He broke the car window of the teacher,
Who was on her way to pray with the preacher.

And then his daddy came home one day.
And next to his chair made him stand.
And read the only words in the only book,
Titled “How To Be A Man”

“Do Not, In The Winter, Eat the Yellow Snow.
“Other than that, the rest is a snap,
“If you’ll just believe in the Good
“The world will put everything into your lap.”

And so the next day at school,
The little boy still did the same things.
But he did it because it felt Good,
And every one else felt exactly the same.


What Does One Do With Winter?

The alarm clock wakes me up each day.
The one on the wall clicks the day away.
My eyes grow tired at the strike of 11 PM
What did I do with my Winter before then?

The soul lives on, it never cries,
The body has about 80 years before it dies.
I can earn a living up until my health is gone.
I can be nice and sweet to everyone all along.

But why should I even count these things?
Why should I try to make it til after the cold?
Why should I even envision the joy of a drink?
With a beautiful Winter, why should I even think?

There are rules to live by,
And there are truths to see,
And neither one of them
Match up for me.

There is no retirement.
There is no cold and dreary god.
There isn’t even a funeral.
At this moment, there is only my dog.

The mirage of nasty weather.
They aren’t really here.
I am just a spirit,
With a cold body,
Living during Winter.


To Others From the Universe

The seasons change on purpose,
From summers heat to winters cold.
It teaches you to look ahead
Until you see the present beauty being told.

When the future looks so tough
And the past looks so grim,
The Truth becomes clouded
By all the things growling within.

The voice of desperation;
The voice of despair;
They are but voices
And their pitch is but air.

The Real thing is so sweet;
The Real thing has no fear;
The Real thing knows only joy
And it sheds only happy tears.

Like a hot summer day
With sweat pouring on your face,
That calm breeze hits you
And your uneasiness is replaced.

The winter with it’s cold,
And you no blanket to find.
And then the sun peeks through,
And there is warmth from behind.

That’s all I have ever wanted to be
To my fellow humans all around.
That calm breeze in your face,
That peek of sun on your snowy ground.

And then as you live the Truth
In only the way You are supposed,
There isn’t a hot sun anymore
And there is certainly no more cold.

Publication Date: 12-02-2009

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