Post of Christmas Past # 7 – The Christmas Argument

Ah, the Christmas argument. What’s a Christmas without a good go at it over gift ideas, and decorations, or how much does that cost? This time of year can bring a lot of holiday cheer but unfortunately, it also brings with it some holiday jeers. For example, last night while shopping I happened to find myself within earshot of a full-on couple spat one aisle over. You could tell it was one where both parties were whispering and shouting at each other. A very awkward moment anyone could relate to because who are we kidding? We’ve all been there at some time or another during the weeks leading up to Christmas. Tensions so high that with one tiny mood swing, all of a sudden everyone is doing a quick about-face, ready to throw Christmas out the door and forget it was even happening. Enough of this, we’ve spent too much money already. Half of what is in this cart is the wrong gift idea anyway. So there. Now, I am going home.

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Posts of Christmas Past – My Holiday Collection

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Happy Holidays, my friends,

I decided to designate a page for my Christmas series. Keep all of my memories and stories about Christmas in one festive place. There is more to come, but this should get you in the spirit of the holidays. Hope you enjoy them. Just click below…

Post of Christmas Past # 6 – The Ruined Christmas Gift

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Ah, the ruined Christmas gift. No better way to sabotage your own built-up magic spirit of the holidays than tampering with the biggest most wanted item on your list. I was about six or seven when I began to get to the bottom of this Santa break-and-enter gimmick. As each year went on, the more cognizant I became of the sneaking around my mother, grandmother, and aunt were doing during the weeks leading up. My senses became Santa sharp. I remember starting to spot cover-up Christmas things my family was doing to paint the perfect backdrop to a wonderful holiday to come. Welcomed, only I was on to them. I became keener on hearing Christmas code conversations that filled the cookie-baking nights of my grandmother’s kitchen. I knew, but the cookies were too delicious. And, one day, which turned out to be the beginning of the end of my belief in a man called Santa, was when I found peace a la resistance. I found the Holy Grail of childhood Christmas holiday wonder. I found the notorious and infamous gift hiding place. Yup, with all those particular sets of skills I had acquired, and with all the determination of a kid destined to ruin the only magical wonder he would experience in his life, I went ahead and spoiled my very own Christmas with one too many tears in the gift-wrapping. 

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Post of Christmas Past # 5 – The Missing Gift

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Ah, the missing gift. Christmastime, a sad reminder that once again there will be a certain To: and From: gift nametag missing from under the tree. A present that no longer finds its way on Santa’s list. A gift we most likely have asked for every year since. It is one of the hardest things about the holidays for me. However, I learned a long time ago not to dwell on that when it came to thinking of the people who are no longer a part of my life. Instead, I started to think of all the memories I have of them and no matter what, they will always be a part of my life that way. That will never be lost.

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Rainy Nights Devils Dance 

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rainy nights devils dance  
their guise of secrets 
under piss-yellow street lights
in the alleys cast shade 
when monsters come out to play  
who can barely see a thing as Hyde shows  
every line blurred
people touching 
music lulling sensual acts 
dirty corners whisper in commentary 
jealous they didn’t swallow first 
illicits hold all those to deeds of passion and lust
no one cares about anything and only want more 
the creatures dance and hypnotize
until the sharp sun rises then they flee 
changing it back once again

Days Gone

Take me to a Spring
where every day was as young as I
and the sun would come winking through the curtains

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Bike Writer # 16 – Saturday, You Know I Love Ya!!

Petty Harbour, Newfoundland

How cool would it be to have a day between Saturday and Sunday?

Bike Writer # 14 – Time, Don’t Waste it!

Time isn’t the main thing, it’s the only thing. – Miles Davis 

The Red Road

macro photography of pathwayI walked a path less travelled,
on a road covered in red.
Evergreens bowed before me,
to welcome back an old soul.
Draped, lonely…in silence.
A still that became my only friend.
There, my worries were sheltered,
protected by a forgotten trail.
That journey became ritual,
to protect me from blended reality.
I ran as soon as the sun would let me,
far away from the stranger who looked just like me.

 

A Grand Memory

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I thought of you this morning while walking to work, there was something about the air, I smiled. It made me recall some random end-of-summer day, much like today. You were steaming up the harbor, towards home, from a day of cod fishing. I first spotted you on the horizon while you were rounding the point, just there by the lighthouse. As I rushed down the lane, I could hear the sound of engine puttering growing louder. There were seagulls squawking and hanging about. Like a feathery cloud, they gave chase, each desperately seeking lunch from the fish scraps that were being thrown from your hands.

A final leap, I was there, at the wharf, to greet your return. I remember how the land-wash had this tinge of salt and the watery shoreline was like looking at glass. My reflection momentarily stared back, glistened in the hot morning sun and slowly distorted as your red and yellow punt made its approach. I was nine-ish, playing some made-up game while flicking sea snails back into the ocean, starting their long journey all over again…boyish thrills. As I stood there awaiting your accent, you handed me a rope to tether the boat long enough for the daily catch to be thrown ashore. It wasn’t a good knot, good enough, I wasn’t very good at that. You’d always finish the job anyway, just before mooring the dory to her rightful place once again, anchored just far enough, wading adrift until next time. Oh, how I remember the sun so bright, high in the sky, early that morn, just like today…when I thought of you.

Miss you Pop.