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Jim Kirk Dec 2019
A CHRISMAS STORY – Part 1

In a time, past was Christmas eve,
A tense quietness spread throughout the house,
No one wanted attention not to dare even a mouse,
Dad snoring on the couch didn’t see our mother leave,

Dad came home two hours late,
Said, “He was drinking at the club with Casey and his son,
He left early, a little before eight,
What the hell he bellowed, I work hard just a little fun,”

Mother said the boys wanted to open just one present,
Dad starred, “every year the same, “NO”,
“We open them Christmas morning, all Santa had sent,”
Mother also was drinking, and said, “Why the hell no, and NO.”

Dad walked to the tree looking at the presents in disgust,
Mother said why are you always like this,
“Open all of them” he shrieked, “IF YOU MUST!”
Then he kicked and broke every toy, not even one did he miss,

The night before Christmas it was very quiet in our house,
Nothing was stirring, not even a mouse.



A CHRISTMAS STORY – PART 2

The two boys’ clothes were tattered,
Yes, their hair was long, had Nana brought a toy?
Grandma would fuss, but it hadn’t mattered,
Their smiling ***** faces shinned Christmas joy,

Early the boy walked the cold wood floor,
To the living room, lighting the old ceramic heater,
From the one-bedroom, the others poured out the door,
Warming hand and feet at their only heater,

Money was short dad said,
Gas went off at night,
The boys saw only the gifts instead,
And the shining Christmas light,

They played with the few new toys,
Having fun, the two boys,
Dad ask one for some water to drink,
The boy ran quickly to the kitchen sink,

His head swooned, what had this meant,
He gasped at what he eyed,
Back to his brother he went,
Pulling his shirt to show what he spied,

Two beautiful red bikes sat on the floor,
They turned around and dad leaned against the door,
Merry Christmas he said,
I sold my car but will ride the truck instead.

By Jim Kirk-Wiggins (c) 2019, All Rights Reserved
LiberiPress.com
EPILOG:
These two stories have much to teach us beyond the obvious. You see the two boys in both stories were the same boys, just older as was the father. It reveals to us the enormous change possible in who we are and how others, including our families, may perceive us. Often family and friends still view us as our past, a sad indictment on love and evolving life.  This story reflects the resilience in children. Love does cover a multitude of sins, in us all.
Jim Kirk Feb 2020
Is Poetry a Language of it’s own ?

Someone ask why I write poetry, Another poetry board I frequent had a contest, my first impression was they were lame. But each to his own.
When I’m inspired to write, it becomes a need to purge something deep within, in my subconscious or inner thoughts.
I always believe poetry is very personal to the poet. Poetry is not English or other national language. Poetry is its own Language, it allows you to express emotions, feelings, what We normally struggle with. Our heart, soul, subconscious, maybe a Quantum flash, write our real poems, and often you and others must search for what is being conveyed,  But always worth it.
May you be inspired and excited.
Jim Kirk-Wiggins (C) all rights reserved.
LiberiPress.com
[i would be interested in your thoughts on what I said, pro and con] ?
Not poems. Marta  narrative about why poets write verse.
Jim Kirk Feb 2020
IT CHANGED EVERYTHING
IT CHANGED EVERYTHING

Random, primal, and perilous is life,
I a spring leaf falling with the breeze,
Day of Chaos, then adrenalin slashing strife,
Intense hidden desires, No, NO, no, I wheeze,

Impossible, shame, self-destruction, I lose,
Chains, despair, tears abound, run, run, run
Love and desire, too much I choose,
****** skin seeping, while weeping in the sun,

Desiring life, longing for love and honor,
Was a sudden insane flash, and the loss of one,
befell the other,
no longer, ever, am I my father’s son,

This foggy frozen life, cannot I endure,
My soul in chains, hand with knife,
a foolish endeavor, as the devil’s lure,
Yes dead, zombie, goodbye sinful life,

Copyright © Jim Wiggins | Year Posted 2017
Written originally many years ago, in a very rough draft
Jim Kirk Feb 2020
Elizabeth And Josie

Her weeping tears flow over her eyes,

Only because her love surpassed her hold,
I felt passionate love myself, but you are mere lies,

DIVINE LOVE!,, You betrayed our hearts, the fiendish lies you told,,
 

My beloved, see flesh and blood, truth not illusions,

I do know the truth, and all my passion cries for her, another,

She a picture, not Love, to be loved, YOU!  created this conclusion,

She cried our love IS divine, we DO complete the other.
 
I love her more
🧍🏻‍♀️
Shorter rewriting of earlier poem of mine.
Jim Kirk Feb 2020
TAKE MY SOUL – My Twin Flame



?The Material one Wonders, sewing doubts, maybe?

The Soul completes, two emerge as one,

The chaos of the divide collapses

Material succumbs to pressure as diamonds



Obstacles fade, diminishing, unseen evermore,

Where comes these Shadows of material world,

Sewing doubt, fear, feet frozen in place,

Expanding omnipotent universe, thrusting us together,



Soul completion achieved, syntropy prevails,

All Material is fleeting flesh, ghostly, decaying corruption,

Our spiritual souls unite, ignite, comets flashing by,

We Grasp this joy tightly, savor every breath, laugh, love evermore,



Our bodies, minds, souls emerge into singularity,

O' great wonder have we beheld,

A soul split, miracle of miracles, Then a soul unites,

Explosive quasars pale to this love reborn,



Completeness, destiny, eternity roars with laughter,

The divine rises, blessing their creation,

Together, ecstatic togetherness, YES evermore,

lovers eyes invade and envelope each in fond eternal embrace,



I Love you~
Jim Kirk Dec 2019
THE ILLUSION

When we are small, small
We always fall, always fall
A small scar it may leave,
But insignificant we believe, we believe

When we are teens, tweens,
We always fall, fall, fall,
A small, small scar it may leave,
Our very self, self it smothers we believe,

Crazy, crazy, crazy, life sings, sings,
A monster every shadow brings, brings,
Our knowledge is at its peak we speak, we speak,
The monster, destroying, dying, dying we squeak,

Emptiness we feel, loss, hopelessness, hopelessness,
Leading foolishly, I myself can confess, yes I confess,
If we can grasp, squeeze with all our might, fight, we will find,
No monster, no shadow, no fear, only our mind, only mind.

By Jim Kirk-Wiggins  ©
Jim Kirk Feb 2020
OrIginally published JANUARY 2017 -
The Leader
February 2020 - He Marches On.

Hoofbeats from a strange land,
As cascading Thunder roared,
upon the horse of prosperity,
     he rode purposely,

Many embraced him as disciples,
  Others laughed and jeered,
     A fool has come today,
   But his garments are fine,

Not a son of god nor prophet,
  But rain in a drought,
    For the thirsty,
Who had tasted sand,

  A destroyer for others,
ancient dams would fall,
Thunder, blessings, cursing’s,
For The Leader had come,


  A Time of fear for her,
  A Time of hope for him,
They danced in bitterness,
Why this volatile disunion,

The Leader on his day,
Shouted visions for disciples,
unbelievers swam in confusion,
Many cried and screamed,
              Alas,

James Kirk-Wiggins (c) 2017
Presidential election 2017
Jim Kirk Jan 2020
Born my son of youth,
My pride shadowed you,
Our long talks sitting outside,
Your wisdom and learning astounded,

You followed my career to fly,
Your letters stroked my ego,
Returning in uniform,
So healthy and strong.

Life is random and chaos,
Tomorrow is a dice tossed against a wall,
Struggling up my drive,
Grasping a wounded leg,

You was a ghost decimated by ****,
My heart bled, my love insane,
You were weak, sick, you were meths *****,
To the VA and rehab I hoped,

But rules by elderly, tired, bored women closed the doors,
You detoxed, and cleaned up in your high school room,
Daily classes, and screening followed soon,

A wife,  two girls, rounded your life,
But **** called her *****,
And she had exclusivity of your soul,
Of your girls gone, likely a loss for evermore,

We opened our hearts and all we had,
To you, wife, and little daughters,
Once, twice, three times many more,
Our pain ebbed, but our love was true,

Lastly, my wife and I had highest of hopes,
Everything fell in place this time,
I prayed, cried, it’s been awhile,
Life is Random and Chaos,

We all fell this time, no energy anymore,
No hope, no faith, battered love I taste,
The emptiness I feel is to great, I put it in a box,
My son of youth, I can no longer shadow you,

Yet Chaos and Randomness is a two edged sword....

By James Kirk-Wiggins (c) January 2020, All rights reserved
The destruction to our essence is no greater than when we observe a child of our youth choosing an insurmountable path toward destruction and eventually......
Jim Kirk Jun 2017
What Was Is Not

What was is not,
I remember some but little,
Special surely, I know,
Yet only remains a tittle,

What was is not,
can’t define the shapeless shadow,
It’s insane, to question what is what,
How was I bound in this knot,

What was is not,
The word alone is so abstract,
What is love, where comes and goes love,
To confound, sent from heaven above?

What was is not,
Loves a label, does it exist at all,
If real, how does a label fall,
Is the rainbow real or not,

What was is not,
What, when, why, did it die,
If it was not then why, why do I cry,
One feels the loss and coldness is why,



What was is not,
I in a dream, I can’t run,
A nightmare stuck or trap I’m in,
Where are you sun, must see the sun,

What was is not,
Will another one ignite my soul,
Yes, it is too late, that time has gone,
Fading now, I can just recall that song,

What was is not,
*** was very nice, yes it was a part,
Not all, but I can feel loss, it’s gone, I’m sure,
There is more, another one, is not a cure,

What was is not,
The now illusory passion has fell,
It can’t be found, as if fallen in the well,
I feel not, surely none remains,

What was is not,
Yes, I’m a selfish fool,
Not willing to stay, follow the rule,
Others have, they greet each day,

What was is not,
But I want, must have, what was,
I do remember, Yes, I can’t settle, not me,
Free to love, and to live, It must be,

What was is not,
No more, I empty, alone, a lonely one,
I will make time stop, and then begin,
From all shadows of past, I run,

What was is not,
Yes, I am stubborn, but Today I smile,
In faith, knowing what was can be,
I feel, I live, yes, I will see.

James Kirk (c) 2017

— The End —