By Arcassin Burnham

Wake up from the dead like
The crow on a Sunday morning
Piercing it's eyes on Monday's newspaper,
Making sure the world sees a different path,
Wouldn't feel like this if I had a laugh,
Piecing together what I can to find a day
Without pain,
You have a better way of seeing things,
But we're not the same,
I try the highs and lows for myself,
But nothing commences,
No change,
No sign of self worth,
Like I was made in a test tube frozen
In a block of ice,
I'm nothing more than a discovery in my own image,
For that I shouldn't long to exist,
I should clear,
I should erase,
I should fade.

The conservative element in DC
Has something else as priority.
It sure is not you, nor is it me.
It’s a much more powerful constituency:
Those who pull strings do not care
Unless you are a multi-millionaire
And contribute to their greedy cause
Like some kind of Santa Claus.

They keep on doing what they’re doing
******* who they were *******
I would explain it all if I could
But sometimes words do no good.
Behind all the gobbledy ****
Someone is not playing by the book.
Winning with lies is what they are trying
To make the true facts look like lying.

They keep you so confused that you
You believe what they want you to,
So you won’t see behind their wiles
To bring their larcenous ***** to trial.
Dignifying public rumors of buggery
You look away from skullduggery.
A few insignificant happenstances
Eclipse treasonous circumstances.

You ***** about gays and abortion
While conservatives commit extortion
And persecution in Jesus’ name.
To them it’s all a ratings game.
If you don’t care what people feel
You lose all track of what is real.
You turn into a tool for deception;
A dupe of sleight-of-hand misdirection.

As long as things are as they are
We’ll get run over by the clown car
Which is the Congress currently seated.
And as long as they remain undefeated
The rules will leave the deck stacked.
Nobody in DC will have our backs.
Why should they care about our whim
When the way it is benefits them?

We need one item, one bill rules
Or we end up the same beaten fools.
We need campaign funding to be equal
Or each election becomes a sequel
To what happened with Gore and Bush
When backdoor politics bit us in the ****.
The only way change will ever come around
Is to take the loopholes from these clowns.

"You deserve more than him," they said.

"There's someone better for you," they said.

But, what if that 'someone better' never comes
And he's the best that I'll ever have?

she
was longing the feel of being loved
and envy all the lovebirds
at the coffee shop

she
created bruises
cut on her wrist
and told everyone that
nobody loved her

she
ever wondered why everyone
has the rainbow
but only her had
the grey clouds

she
tried to find out
how to be loved

she
then realized
the first step of being loved
was loving herself first

r.a.

I dreamed I was at work
And everyone was naked but me.
A bunch of naked co-workers
As far as my eyes could see.
They were pointing at me laughing
The moment I walked through the door.
They behaved as they didn’t
Know was clothing was for.

Pointed at my chest area
Right were my ******* would be
And at my crotch as well
And asked me “How do you ***?
All of that material there.
It really must get in your way.
So, what’s the big idea
Why did you come to work that way?”

I mumbled and I stumbled
And bumbled my way to reply.
I told them I really didn’t quite
Understand all of why
They were all naked here, and
I was wearing a lot of clothes.
I finally told them all that
Sometimes this is how it goes.

They started laughing again
And one girl tried to make amends.
She said the pants I had on
Gave me a very cute rear end.
My face turned red, I said thanks.
And some said I was blushing.
I headed back to my desk, trying
Not to look like I was rushing.

I woke up still kind of giggling
And yet had a feeling of unease.
I remembered the embarrassment
Feeling being dressed was a disease.
Usually it’s the reverse, of course.
I am the one walking around bare.
But something in this dream that night
Helped me see some of the meaning there.

HANDMADE CHRISTMAS

Do you remember back when
Christmas was making things
Out of stiff colored paper
Like chains of slim paper rings
That were so long we took them
And wrapped the a few times
Around the tree as pretty trim?

We made angels and snowflakes
From something called shirt boards;
Cutouts covered with aluminum foil.
They didn’t need extension cords.
And Mom showed us how to starch
String we dyed. We wrapped it
Around some inflated balloons.
When each dried, we popped it.

We made reindeers and Santas
Our of wooden clothespins
With pipe cleaner antlers or
Cotton beards for Santa’s chin.
Mom dyed an old sheet green
For under the Christmas tree.
Prettier than the store-bought kind
It has always seemed to me.

In school we made Gifts too
Things knitted or made of clay
To give to Mom wrapped up
With great pride on Christmas Day.
And that wrapping paper was
Was all Christmas color tissue.
It was inexpensive to buy, so
Using a lot was not an issue.

Some gifts were appreciated
Some maybe not as much
But in every case, we were
For the most part very touched.
You knew for sure just by looking
What care and love went into
The handmade presents that were
Made totally and especially for you.

Brent Kincaid
12/12/2015

Come on Santa Claus,
You’re taking too long.
What’s the holdup?
Is there something wrong?
Is a reindeer sick?
Did the sleigh break down?
Is someone keeping you
In some other town?

This is hard enough,
This waiting all year,
But it’s worse the closer
That Christmas gets near.
We set the cookies out
And a cup of cocoa.
(Munching on it all
Is a definite no-no.)

We hung the stockings
And decorated the tree
So, Santa, what else
Do you want from me?
I’m in bed a bit early
But I can’t get to sleep.
It’s not working when
I try counting sheep.

I know you’re busy, sir,
But this waiting is torture.
I don’t recommend it.
Waiting has no future
As a way to spend time
Before an exciting day.
How is a kid supposed
To get to sleep this way?

I warn you ahead of time,
Mister Claus, dear man,
I’ve got high expectations
And some complicated plans
That involve some bragging
And some envious friends.
So, Santa please get here
And let this agony end!

I feel like i'm toxic to the touch
when I felt and tried to return the love you gave me,

turning not to thank me,
as I reach out to grab you,

you walked away,
as I watched and cried,

I retrace each step you take,
my tears falling so fast they fill your footprints place,

drawing what ever may live in your souls,
as you stepped and went away,

eventually the night falls,
and I am left in the darkness, alone,

without you,
without anyone to care,

I sit unwanted,
hoping you will care.

Ever loved someone like
laying on the carpet in pain
watch the shadows on their face change
see the door open and close
these days the sunlight always looks the same