I like the taste of beer…
In your kiss
I like the looks you give me
You with your perfect smile
Your big blue eyes
So full of love
I love running my fingers
Through your super cool hair
…
From the bottom of my heart
From the most patient part of my mind
My love for you is endless
And unconditional
Because when I am with you
I realize…
I like the taste of beer
In your kiss

Christmas Day is finally here
“Time for laughter, Time for cheer”
To quote Dr Suisse as I often do
The master of rhyme
And poetry too
But enough about him
His mean angry Grinch  
Scaring all little children
Like Newt Gingrich
It’s time to waked up
I’ve got coffee to drink
Santa’s been to mom and dads
With a nod and a wink
I stayed up real late
And slept in until eight
I can’t sleep any later
It’s a terrible fate
But Christmas here
It has finally come
I am glad we do not
Have to eat sugar plumbs
I wrap m self up in my snuggie
So tight
“Merry Christmas to all
And to all a good night”

Morning again
A little after five A.M.
This is Christmas Eve day
There is no chimney here
To hang stockings by with care
So hanging them on the wall instead
And filling then with nothing
I simply make peppermint coffee
Having neither the ability or requirement of sleep
In my mind I have vague and dim recollections of Christmases past
Struggling to cope with the past
And even the present
I let go the good memories as well
And all memories are hazy
And afraid I have Alzheimer’s or MS
I long to recall my pleasant childhood memories
Blurry snippets of clothes and Christmas themed socks
And angel ornaments, every year an angel
And the big expensive gifts my little brother
THE MESSIAH got  
But now I write and remember the laughter
And the family stories
Mom read to us
Mom Sarah and Jamie
“The Night Before Christmas”
And “Santa Berry and The Snard”
And at the bottom of all stockings
At all Christmas’s Past
An orange and some Hershey Kisses
And I barely like Hershey Kisses
But I still ate them
Just like I ate black lickerish Jelly Beans on Easter
And those yucky, old people, candies in the brown and orange wrappers
On Halloween
I remember my aunts and uncles sending gifts
And my grandparents sent checks
Children cannot cash checks…sigh
And Hearing my father’s beautiful sermon
At Midnight Mass
And waiting for so long for him to come home from church
On Christmas morning
And hearing my mother shuffle around trying to get everything just right
James and I dying to come down stairs
“You can’t come downstairs just yet Santa is doing his finishing touches”
My Mother would yell up the stairs
Expecting us still to believe
When James and I begged repeatedly
I guess it doesn’t matter that I don’t have a chimney
Or anything to fill my stockings with
And Making an genuine effort to stop the Ghost Of Christmas Yet To Come
Because I have now regained
My fondest Christmas memories
And that will bring me comfort and joy
Hallelujah!

Come Summer

Snow blankets the roof tops and tree limbs
The sun shines
But does not warm the earth
I have had enough of winter
I am waiting for the Mississippi River
Or an Illinois camp ground pond
I’m waiting to tie my hook on the line
And sit in the gleaming warmth
Of Summer Sundays
I want to feel my lungs fill with the clean air
And live in the open sky
I want to hike a million rods down the river
I will pitch a tent
And let Shawn light a fire
I will swim naked in the dark
And make love in the water
I’ll eat crispy juicy cheeseburgers that Shawn cooks
Over that fire he built
And we will drink hot mauled cider
Maybe with a little ***
I will listen to Shawn’s stories
And catch a mess o fish
And we will eat those too
And we’ll stare at the stars
And listen to a quiet radio
And when it gets cooler
We’ll get inside our nice warm sleeping bags
And sleep
And dream

Along the banks of Lake Shelbyville
That’s what I think of when it’s your birthday
A camp fire burning on a cool April night
We two drinking hot mauled cider
Or better yet “Hornsby’s Draft Cider”
Talking and laughing
Making up parodies
Parodies of Zeppelin and Floyd songs
Listening to the nightingales and the crickets
And watching fire light
That almost appears to be living
Watching slow rolling clouds, and feeling the whispering wind
Rolling in and out and over and under
The engaging light of the moon and stars
And maybe some of our friends were there
And maybe it was only us
Brother and sister
Best friends forever
Retelling stories of our past
Creating memories for our future
Waxing religion and philosophy
Such philistines, think my parents
And your parents don’t get it
And yes we have separate parents
And yes we have the same parents
(Adoption is a funny thing you see)
You are my funny BIG, BIG, BIG brother
Santa Claus, Sasquatch, Cave Man, and Viking
And I am your little crazy sister
Flower Child and Sacagawea
And it is your birthday
And I love you always
        Love, Sarah Jane Gillian Tiffany Michelle Whispering Wind Grider Minks Summers Jonathan George Washington Francis Fleming Greenlee Whiter Liston Hall
Aka Awesome Pagan Goddess

In darkness of early morning
I write
I cannot think of the inspiration I had before
I have no muse today
Neither in man nor daughter as I usually do
Nor mother father sisters or brothers
And wretched is the thought of writing
A prophetic surging poem based upon
The crazed and lazy cat
So I turn to the morning coffee
And the sleeping world  
About to wake
I do not want to fight today
I do not want to hear complaints
Or admonishments
I want to scream
******* IT SHUT UP!
Today is the day before Christmas Eve you fools
Could you for once and for all stop bickering
Could we have peace?
If not on earth in this house
Could we just be excellent to each other
Without having to party on
Dude!
I think I see snow or frost on the roof tops
No such luck on the ground
And the weather guy didn’t sound too hopeful
Dawn is breaking
Soon both brother and lover will emerge
Resulting in a new day
Of grim territorial battle
I tire of this
So glad today I will be with my mother
And the hoi polloi at the swarming mall
Or some such unbearable place
Defined by the teaming masses of morons
Some daft young girl sizing me up
As head of the fashion police
And former captain of the cheerleaders
She and my mother will decide for me
What I would like for Christmas
And so I write
Hoping for the best
Longing for Christmas to be over
Yet still anticipating and anxiously awaiting
With an unwavering hope
That Christmas will bring peace
And joy
And all that Christmas promises Year upon year
I hope , Merry Christmas

I issued a challenge to my newly formed group,  It went basically as follow.  Choose a poem that you read but did not write and use the words from the word list at the bottom to make a new poem the words can be changed for instance winter can become wintery and swim can become swam You can make one up to and submit it if you want my group is for every poet and every kind of poetry.  Here is mine.  

Why, Thank you
by Elise Cluster

Words
Used in this poem
stone   instead   free   left   grey   wisdom   redeyed   tears   filled   forgotten   tongued   thank   heart   blue   old  


Getting ****** and redeyed
Feeling the wisdom of the old days
And of old people
Laughter comes freely
I have forgotten so many things
I filled up another one hitter
And lit it up
Filling the air with blue grey smoke
I tongued the hitter to feel the heat
I don’t have the energy for tears
My heart thanks the grower
For peace and quiet
And the ease of reflection
I breathe in inspiration
This is great

I saw a little puppy
Running alone toward the back of the apartment buildings
But then I saw his man
He was a great big man to have such a tiny puppy
It is starting to snow now
There is no milk or cream for the coffee
And no money
And it is not food stamp day…sigh
Things are how they are
And there is no use crying over no milk
Tomorrow my brother will leave
He’ll go back to Tennessee
Back to his oxymoronic life
His friendships with Pagan Hillbillies
My brother is afraid
Of his parents
Of my parents
Of being alone
No longer feeling much like “Win a car Jay”
Because he gave up everything for a known flake
And cheat  
Gotta go hang with Suzy today
Maybe “Win a car Jay” will come with
Maybe we’ll see a movie
Maybe we’ll see a little puppy

I am not of this world
Said she
The world of mediocrity
I am not part
Of this trivial life
This life of work
And endless strife
I do not want this inner struggle
I’ve been drowning in this abysmal puddle
The puddle appears shallow and harmless
You are not the one
Confronting its acrimoniousness
You are not haunted by its bitter taste
Being pulled down into its grotesque waste
You’ve no idea how arduous it can be
Poor, penniless, hopeless
Like me
Sarah Hall Minks copyright 4/28/12

Oh yeah sure uh huh
God said this and God said that
And then who ever God said this
Or that to
They just did whatever he said to do
And things happened
On the will of God
****** pregnancies, floods that go on for forty days and nights
With animals going on a great big arch two by two
(“Ding, Noah, Zwoopah, Zwoopah, Zwoopah”) *
Blind men seeing,
Even without Lasik
Loaves and fishes
Water into wine, I wish
And God said this
And God said that
Come on
And I’m the Queen of Sheba
Oh wait no…wrong class of mythology
Wilt Thou forgive my heresy

It is time for bed
It’s still not food stamp day
Jay left today
I haven’t had time to reflect
Oo there is no coffee left
Sad…sad sad…sigh
I’ll make some tea
I thought I saw snow
But no again no
Sigh
New Years Eve gone by again
I can not tie all this together
Peace and quiet fills the house again
The anxiety of all that was is gone
New anxiety starts
Ringing in the New Year *****

You tell the story
I will write it down for you
I’ll use your words
I’ll use your dulcet tone
I will show your emotions
I will not afraid to be bold
Or to be honest in my writing
I will convince you one day
That you are amazing
That you are cherished
I will honor your memories  
Honor your legend
I will tell the fairy tale
That is your real, astounding, life
You do not realize the power you possess
The marvelous adventure that is your life
How will I ever get you to let me write for you?
I’ll tell you what I’ll do
“Yoo Hoo, I’ll make ya famous”

I love to watch you put things where you want them
That always makes me smile
The way you’re always careful
To go the extra mile
You always make the effort
To make the house look nice
You always take your time
And look things over twice
You wash all the dishes
And keep the counters clean
You take away the garbage
With never an ounce of mean
I truly do appreciate
Everything you do
Thank you for showing me your love
Oh!  By the way I love you too!!!!!!!!

I’d Love to go to France
And sail upon the Sine
I’d love to go to Germany
And Sail upon the Rhine
I’d love to see the castles
Of England and of Spain
To see the royal Princess Kate
And her lovely husband William,
Oh, to have Prince Charming as a mate
And then the rain that stays mainly in the plane
Having traveled there in luxury by lavish gilded train
I’d love to see the mountains
In Switzerland and Austria
And see the vast rice fields
In Countries like Korea
And drink frothy bubbling ale
From a tavern near a windmill in the Netherlands
And climb a tiny mountainous hill
In enchanting charming Whales
I’d love to see the canals
In a Gondola in Venice
Or maybe go to China to watch some table tennis
I’d love to see the pyramids
Of Egypt and Peru
And see the Ancient Monoliths
On Easter Island too
And feel the spirits of Celtic and Norse Gods rise inside of me
At magical stunning Stonehenge
While far off in the distance Scottish Bagpipers play for free
But Alas, Alas sadness ensues
These things I’ll never see
Poverty always haunts me
And I won’t win the lottery
I’ll never see the breathtaking things
That others take for granted
Though they will always be here
Part of this amazing planet
I’ll have to take in what I can
And not hope for what cannot be
I’ll have to imagine all these things
In my own special way
and see all I can see
Watching shows like, “Rick Steve’s Europe”
Scheduled to air, everyday
On PBS TV

Sarah Hall Minks Copyright 4/28/12

Twitter is stupid
Facebook is dull
It would be a nightmare
To keep track of them all
I’ve never liked MySpace
It’s such a huge bore
And checking my e mail
Is such a huge chore
I’m writing this poem
To post on the net
And it will get zero
Responses I bet
I’m tired of chat rooms
And lame game requests
I can’t download free music
Due to stupid virus threats
I hate those annoying
And tiresome Pop up ads
I don't need ******
Or new fashion fads
When the clip on the YouTube
Says like it or loathe it
Why should I answer,
When I think nothing of it
But despite all the *******
I’ll stay online all day
Or just for a little bit

The floor was strewn all over
With children’s toys and books
With ***** clothes and rotting food
And sticky disgusting Popsicle wrappers
With shoes and socks and dishes
And garbage
With cat hair and dog ****
And dead plants that never had a chance
Splats of ketchup and mustard adorned the counter tops
And smears of chocolate and grease covered the refrigerator door  
Inside the sink the roaches crawled freely over the never washed dishes
The air was filled with the toxic ammonia of cat **** and spoiled left overs
A layer of dust covered every book and nick knack never touched on the shelves
Every place to sit was sticky and hairy
And your shoes became trapped to an increasingly vile floor
The garbage can filled to over flowing
With more bags of garbage sitting waiting to be taken elsewhere and two grown adults never bothering to take them
And quite seriously the mother of this outfit dares scold the little boys and bellows at them to clean their rooms
Seriously!  What the hell!
The air so filled with dust and hair and cigarette smoke is a nightmare even for those not suffering of asthma or allergies
I think I now know what is meant by “We were all yellow”
And the bathroom
Oh my god the bathroom
It might have surpassed the filth of the worst road trip gas station bathroom
A gross grey film covering every inch of every surface rings of repulsive ghastly filth covered over in endless dust and grime and drips and drops and hair and *** and blood
And still more garbage stinking putrid garbage
Never removed
And all household members sitting staring blankly at the filthy television screen or mindlessly surfing the net at the half broken computer
Except the children who got no attention
No love
And had no hope of positive reinforcement
One lighting the tacky and ratty cotton curtains on fire
the other standing on a chair in the middle of the room and peeing on the floor
as the baby sister sat fat and screaming in her own filth
hair matted by chocolate fudge pop
she was too young to have been given
all the children’s clothing was soiled and covered in food
Presumably from days of wearing the same clothing
Because no one cared for them
Or for themselves
What was the point of giving these children life?
Or toys or pets to play with
If only to ruin all they had
Which was meager to begin with
What is the point of setting up house
If only to fail to keep it clean
And to yell and fight constantly  
Relying only on the past experiences of your own childhood and never to even try
To rise above it
Living life in your imagined trauma
And creating for your family very real and lasting trauma
But you’ll never give a ****,
You’ll never grow up,
You’ll never see the consequences of your actions just barley scraping by the law
Someone called me worthless once
And many people think I am barley adequate
But I would rather be adequate
Then be genuinely worthless and horrid
I would rather be caring and honest
Then a pig headed ***** constantly screaming at my children but doing absolutely nothing myself
Living my life with no empathy and no emotions but my own thinking only of myself and what I want
Thinking about ways to make others do for me giving nothing in return
So I will forget about you wasted people and your unfortunate children
I will tend to my house, my family, and my work
And I will not let my past become my future
I will improve myself and my life
Being grateful for the things I have
And learn not to covet what others have
I will be stronger then the pigs I suffered through living with
And I will be happy to be adequate
Happy to be free of swinish people
And be the me that I have become

What will be
Will Suzy be a Hawk-eye?
Or James a Doctor
What happens when my parents die?
Will James help me?
Will he be nice?
When they die will I die too?
Will Suzy
James won’t he’s too tough
James will get angry
Probably Suzy too
My mind is fragile
I can not comprehend those deaths
They are too big
Too real
Two years gone sense we almost lost him
And too, too afraid
I tell my parents they are not allowed to die
And they are not!
Not until I’m good and ready
But it will never be good
And I will never be ready