If only we were the executioners of our downfall
that would be a fitting windfall, and
a rollover on the lottery
win

as death grins on the side lines
I
remember the good times
sharpening the axe.

i will wade out
                        till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
                                       Alive
                                                 with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
                                       in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
                                            Will i complete the mystery
                                            of my flesh
I will rise
               After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
             And set my teeth in the silver of the moon

When yesterday and tomorrow met, they talked about today
When Today and tomorrow met, they gossiped about yesterday
but when Yesterday and today met, they didn't think about tomorrow...

You **** a reindeer while checking your hellopeotry account and driving.

2. Every Christmas Card you send has one of your poems in it.

3. At the family gathering you make everyone listen to one of your poems.

4. You write a poem about a romantic elf.

5. You send Santa a sonnet of what you want for Christmas.

6. You go to the mall Santa and ask him for one of your poems to become a daily.

7. Instead of gifts you pass out poems to loved ones.

8. You write a haiku about yellow snow.

9. You feel great sorrow for the turkey you are stuffing and write a poetic eulogy.

10. You buy yourself a brand new pen and pad and give it to yourself.

11. Instead of cookies and milk, you leave Santa a sonnet.

12. You ponder Rudolph's red nose and how rough he must have it.

13. You wrap the gifts with your poems hoping someone will actually read your poetry.

14. You write a poem titled "Black Friday" and make a wondrous philosophical poem about how the maddening crowds beat you to that 41inche flatscreen.

15. Instead of Christmas carols you stand and perform spoken word in front of neighbors homes.

16. You hold your kid's gifts hostage until they read your poems.

17. You write a poem about the holidays on hellopeotry.
(Yeah you know ones coming)

18. In a fit of poetical rage, you write how the elf's must be set free or get paid for what they do.

19. You write a farewell poem to 2016.
(Yeah you know its coming)

20. Last but not least: you might be a poet when Santa has you on the naughty list for writing cheesy poetry.
(Im guilty)