Thanksgiving?
Hm. Never needed one.
I'm thankful everyday,
There shouldn't be just one day
Where you give your thanks to
Just a few people that don't
Really matter much to you but are there so you voice
Your empty words with no meaning to.
It's just another day to act.

Thanksgiving is an excuse
To not be grateful everyday
For the things you have in your life
Small or big.
So why should we celebrate
Thanksgiving?
It's just an excuse for
Extravagant eating,
Boisterous black friday,
No school,
Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade,
And football.

Really, the true meaning of Thanksgiving is not of the giving of thanks,
But the day in which you reunite with your family,
You relax,
And just take in life.

It was time for celebration
Thanksgiving weekend was now here
A time for food and football
A time for love and prayer

In front of old Gianni's
The parade was marching by
But, way back in the alley
Someone was singing to the sky

The Blues man sat and pondered
As he sometimes chose to do
Of his songs and of his music
That really reached too few

The parade was full of bluster
High School Bands and all that stuff
While out back of Old Gianni's
The Blues man had it rough

But, he sang songs of Thanksgiving
To the Lord, and to the sky
He was praising all worlds beings
Though no body did pass by

He sang "Glory, Glory, Glory"
He sang "Allehlujah " too
Even though he sat with no one
The Blues man wasn't blue

Back door opened slowly
As the parade was winding down
People from The Street
Were slowly coming round

The Blues man didn't notice
Singing on without a break
Singing songs of praise and glory
With just the sounds that he could make

Then all at once he looked out
Saw the quickly gathered throng
He changed what he was playing
And he broke into a song

The Blues man started Christmas
Singing of a Christmas Tree
And of a long ago soft Silent Night
And the entire show was free

He didn't sing of presents
He didn't sing of our excess
He sang Christmas Hymns of long ago
When we all gave thanks for less

The Blues man had his medcin'
Drank a bit, and sang some more
Then he started slowing down
When she came out from her back door

The woman with the used book place
Stood silent, listening with this cast
Of The Street owners and people
On who life had given up so fast

She walked up to The Blues man
Through the crowd to where he was
And she started singing with him
Which made the Blues man pause

He knew he'd heard this voice before
Back when people knew his name
It was older and some shaky
But, the voice it was the same

The woman looked down at him
Gave a smile, shed a tear
Then she said "It's me dad"
"It's no dream...I am here"

The Blues man kept on playing
For two hours more or so
When the weather, not the people
Put an end to this mans show

Another past Thanksgiving
Was still playing in his mind
But, The Blues man and his daughter
Had a life they had to find

No one heard her say it
Just The Blues man, as he sang
This was the start of a new story
As bells of Thanksgiving loudly rang

Hate the holidays well I got one for you.
Dont have to follow no rules.
Just drink till ya drop.
To what's the ocassion still ya
havent a clue.

Hey there missy.
dont **** and moan just grab a pint
ya big *****.

No need for a kleenex  just wipe that blood off
on your sleeve.
Stoner slacker and poets unite for
it's Thanksgiving Eve.

No need to hang anything by the
chimney with care.
But it is a party so lets see your underwear.

Lets beat the holiday blues.
Hey who's drunk and horney?
Short skirts and thoose high heel shoes.

Crank that jukebox hey grandpa theres
no need to leave.
Cause everyone is included on Thanksgiving eve.

Hey amigo if we play are cards right.
we can stir enough **** to see a chick fight.

Hey whats going on upstairs God only knows.
It's not  cheating just wrestling without any
clothes.

Hey who just cut a whole in the floor?
hey grandpa ya better watch that exotic woman
your dancing with.
Cause she's a woman with a little more.

Hey ya'll the cops are coming along with a swat
team so it's my cue to leave.
but like that fat ***** in a red suit I'll
return to bring ya another great Thanksgiving Eve.

Thanksgiving

It’s getting close to thanksgiving day
When every ones table will be on display.
Tablecloths of different patterns and designs
Making the tables look just fine.

Where every mother or wife try to
Fill their hearts delight.
Food dishes and desserts passed down
From generation to generation
Leaving you with a tasty temptation.

On the table a butterball turkey
And a honey baked ham
Both sitting in their juices
In a large roasting pan.

Mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes
Green bean salad ,and corn on the cob
It looks like someone was doing their job.
A pan of beans, and a large bowl of rice
Bottles of apple cider sitting on ice.

Everything to make a thanksgiving complete
Spending it with family and friends
What a beautiful treat.

But this holiday can not be celebrated
If it wasn’t for those pilgrims on that historic day
When they spent it with Indians
and learned different games to play.

This was the creation of this
Great country that we all know
And now macy’ s puts on its thanksgiving show.


You’ve got to love it !

© L . RAMS

So, here I am, Thanksgiving, nine o'clock.
Drinking cherry ***** and Diet Coke in my basement, thinking about you.
I want to call you, tell you the honest-to-god truth that I love you,
but I'm drunk and you're gone.

So I wish you were here too, Thanksgiving, nine o'clock.
Being drunk and silly and dancing and kissing.
But it's just me, being drunk listening to Ladies of Cambridge on repeat.

So I really want to call you and let you know that I thought of you
at least twenty-seven times each day this week,
but I won't because I'm drunk and nervous.

So I am writing poetry alone in my basement
on Thanksgiving, nine o'clock, drunk.
Vampire Weekend makes good company, I wish you were here.

'Twas the night before Thanksgiving
And all through the forest
All the turkeys were gathered
From the richest to poorest

For a meeting was called
To plan their revenge
For all of their loved ones
Who were ever cooked or singed

Now this turkey rebellion
Was long overdue
How would they get even?
And what would they do?

I was there that night
When their meeting adjourned
Keep reading this poem
To see what I learned

This meeting went on
For what seemed like an hour
'Til a gobbler stepped forth
In their circle of power

Now all the turkeys agreed
To this gobbler's idea
They'd all eat some exlax
And give them diarrhea

No matter how they cooked it
Bake it or boil it
The humans would spend
All day on the toilet

So, remember this Thanksgiving
As you try to relax
Have plenty of TP
For those sudden attacks

Day into Night
Anticipate of Thanksgiving in plain sight
Uniting families and friends
Thanksgiving offering no pretends
Total inspiration at the end
Giving thanks
Smiles with Laughter
Food that comes after
Bringing people together in the multitudes
Beginning until conclude
Destinations to numerous destinations
Mercy and Grace following
Seeing people face to face
The thought of the Thanksgiving Feast
Worries behind and stress carefree
Where ever your journeys take you whether at home or destination to
Let Thankful pursue
If you are alone, be Thankful to be among the living
Every day is Thanksgiving
Living and Breathing is a reason
It doesn’t matter the season
Reflect on memories gone by
Table setting with food to eat
Various desserts adding to the treat
Your thanks
Blessing
Don’t take being Thankful for granted
Remember to pray for the misfortunate
They deserve Thanksgiving as well
Remember the Pilgrims who made this holiday
Praise Heaven Authority who embraces our lives each and every day
Happy Thanksgiving and enjoy your feast
Family and Friends time
A blessing one of kind
Be Thankful for one another
Let the Feast begin

For this years Thanksgiving, I have decided to focus on developing a sense of gratitude. The world is full of real bad stuff happening to too many people and its easy to let the darkness of our times cast long shadows of resentment, anger and ill will over our outlook on life. So today as I travel to a relatives home to gather for our national day of thankfulness I choose to leave resentments at home and cultivate a sense of gratitude.

I’m grateful for my eyes. My sight allows me to perceive the million graces The Almighty abundantly confers upon the inhabitants of the good earth each and every day. My eyes help me to discover the pressing needs of others and respond to it. My eyes help me to discern light from darkness, distinguish the forest from the trees and eschew pedestrian views to behold a beautiful vista. My eyes are a pathway to my soul moving me to contemplate the good, forsake the bad and move against evil in service to truth.

I’m grateful for my ears. The grace of hearing permits me to listen. My ears alert me to the cries of my brothers and sisters and enables me to understand our shared human condition. My ears tune my spirit to the chords of exquisite music and the natural symphonies of Mother Earth’s angelic chorus of singing birds, heaving oceans, the majestic pause of silent mountains and the fleeting rush of the swelling wind are all divine voices singing the joyful hymns of life.

I’m thankful for my sense of smell. Graciously my nose breathes in the inviting aroma of a lovingly prepared home cooked meal, the wholesome scent of baking bread wafting from the door of the corner bakery, a briny snort from the boundless sea, the rich compost of the deep woods after a soft summer rain, the bouquet of an infants hair and the perfume of a lovers embrace.

I give thanks for my ability to touch. Hands engaged in productive work and gainful employment is a blessing absent from too many Thanksgiving Day tables this year. We yearn to connect and the sense of touch invites our ability to feel. Feeling is the father of empathy and the mother of compassion. Caring for our animal friends we live in communion with all sentient beings.  As we touch one another and allow others to touch us; the hardest of hearts is softened, the most grievous wounds are healed to liberate the sensual yearnings dwelling in the deepest recesses of ourselves. Feeling allows us to become fully present, fully aware and fully alive in the celebration of what it means to be fully human.

I’m thankful for my sense of taste. As Sinatra croons “from the brim to the dregs” the wine of our lives may not all taste good but it all flows clear and true. Sample, savor and learn. Taste and see the glories of the Lord’s banquet so abundantly placed before us. The bitter herbs, the sweet cakes, the leisure repast, the fortifying meal and unrequited hunger is the daily bread of being human.  Pause to consider those that are lining up for the tenth Thanksgiving Day meal in Afghanistan and Iraq and pray that the awful rations of war fed to our young soldiers be supplanted with the good manna of peace.

Perhaps we loose our sense of gratitude because expectations of ourselves and others always seems to come up short of the mark. Imperfection is our most endearing quality. It informs our ability to forgive transgressions, form bonds of friendship and unconditionally love each other. I remain grateful for the sense of my imperfection as I overlook your imperfections and remain ever hopeful that you  will extend your hand to help me overcome mine.

Happy Thanksgiving.

You Tube Video: Jean Ritchie, Shady Grove

Every thanksgiving,
My family gets smaller.
Gone to college. Gone traveling. Gone to another woman. Gone to Florida. Gone to prison.
Gone to see the lord.

Funerals are how
I visit the lord. God is drawn to eulogies.
He’s there, a fixture,
almost a cliche,
like a great aunt with a black veil
weeping into a floral
handkerchief.

Today, at this funeral,
a thin layer of snow and ice
has frozen the ground.
Black dress shoes
press ridged footprints into the
snow.

Every funeral I’ve ever
been to has been cold. Dress
clothes and peacoats
aren’t thick enough to keep
me warm during a funeral.
I keep my hands in my pockets and hunch forward,
watching my breath hit the winter wind.
The winter wind is
an evaporated sadness, like god.

During thanksgiving, the gravy boat
on the counter
let off hot, thin steam.  While pouring it thick
on my potatoes,
A shadow in the corner of the room caught my eye.

The days after a funeral are
filled with a confused, hopeful mysticism. Every moving shadow,
every unexplained noise
is a visitation.  

So I ****** my head towards the corner of the room. Nothing.
Glancing back at the table,
I look at his empty seat, reminded

how much I’m him. I’m quiet, like he was.
I
laugh like he laughed.
My teeth are as bad as his were.
I drink like he did when he was
my age,
days, nights at a time, stumbling home from dark pubs,
watching, with blurred vision,
my whisky breath hit the winter wind,
and evaporate, almost as fast as God.

After the turkey and the pie and the coffee,
I go down to the basement
and I pour myself a stiff
*** and coke.  

I drink, in silence, to the gone.

God help those, who help themselves?
God bless those that helps one another.
Thanksgiving comes from giving and realizing that God gave the best gift to us.

One was life.
The other was Jesus.
So essentially, we are blessed each day with Thanksgiving.

We, unselfish comprehend that one word meaning.
We, who love kindly?
Doesn't do many things without a reason.

God gives blessings constantly.
And we should adapt to that one great quality.

Let no negative be applied to your name.
When you had the chance to go out of your way.

Gratitude doesn't come with an attitude.
But from the gracefulness expressed by you with love.
Which started from up above.

Thanksgiving contains two words.
And both are words of comfort.

Boast not about things you do.
But be humble of the kindness within you.

On my 5th Thanksgiving
my parents took me to my Grandmothers house.
It was a short drive from Miamisburg, Ohio to Liberty, Indiana.
Over the Little Miami River, past empty harvested fields.
Dairy farms, and towering silos.
Frozen horse troughs, and soon to be rustic barns sheltering small livestock from the cold.
There was snow on the ground and roof, and the cattle, sheep and goats were already having their dinner.
There were no Christmas tunes on the radio of our Ford, but rather “Let Us Break Bread Together” by some local church choir.......... A sadness came over me as I looked at the animals in the field, and I whispered in my Mothers ear........Mommy, do the animals know that it is Thanksgiving?

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone