I love it when Lisa and I take our show out and, on the road,
like this twilight helicopter flight, from New Haven to LaGuardia.
I’m so excited about tonight, it’s possible that I might implode.

The rotor blades started twirling, our luggage had been stowed,
the pilot asked Lisa. “Ready for takeoff?” Lisa grinned saying, “Let's go!”
He gave her a quick and crisp salute and the engine noise started to grow.

As we went wheels-up, the whirly-birds warning lights began to strobe.
Yep, It’s the start of November recess and we’re changing our zip code.

We rise like a balloon, at first, until the harbor comes into view.
The engines were screaming like jets, when the whole world turned askew,
I’ve done numerous take-offs like this, but it still feels like I might spew.

Above the rear cockpit window, there’s an air-speed indicator that looks like a clock.
With a quick turn over Yale’s campus, we’re going 90 as we steak over the docks.

As we ascend into the night, the twinkling lights of New Haven seem to shrink.
We’re swiftly gaining altitude, this quivering contraption, moves faster than you’d think.

As the red numbers settle at 260, the vibrations have all but ceased,
The engine noise is gone as well, as we race up, in the darkness and out over the sea.

I try not to think of the inky black water, how far we would fall and how quickly we’d sink.

Long Island Sound glittered, like fractured glass, under the waxing crescent moon.
The forever-blue sky was hosting a large, fake-star, because Venus was glowing there too.
That dark almost-orbit was prettier than the infinity-of-lights we’ll see on Park Avenue.
We’ll be meeting Peter’s flight from Geneva - a surprise - he doesn’t have a clue.

As the lights of New York become pronounced, so does my excitement that he’ll be around.
I’m sure we’ll get a moment of quiet intimacy at the LaGuardia international arrivals lounge.

Plaid apron on, don't stop to think.
I cooked all Thanksgiving just for them
dishes are now piled in the sink,
staring a bit too long at the carving knife.
With the countertops glistening with spillage
I'm wondering what I want from life
some sort of contentment, I cannot envisage.
My dad hates his job
my mother loathes her body
and I've learned everything I know from them.
Every loan and distracting hobby,
imitation is the finest form of flattery
I fatefully copy.

Candles flickering,
smells like pumpkin and clove
my sisters arguing in the living room
a *** over boiling on the stove,
it's scalding water right into my mind.
I have no place here,
I hear the ticking time.
Turkey was fattened up all year
and now our dogs crunch on the bones
wonder what they are wishing for
are some things better left unknown?
Brown leaves are falling with a final breath
they say it will be a hard winter
I'm not sure what is left.

It takes considerable research to pick an ideal vacation spot,
The end result can be pleasantly surprising, more often than not,
Spain offers a multitude of choices that can be very exciting,
It is those small tucked-away towns that are the most enticing

Cadaques is a pretty Meditteranean location in Catalonia's Costa Brava,
It is a hippy seaside town akin to a hidden cove, that is no mere trivia,
Located on a small peninsula on the eastern side of sunny Spain,
It has all the trappings of an ideal getaway resort, with much to gain

It is the most inaccessible town north of Barcelona, though seductively beautiful,
The road winds through mountains replete with hairpin turns that are an eyeful,
Passing through cliffs one after the other, a rocky coastline is the final descent,
Entering the Spanish village with a breathtaking landscape, makes for rich accent

The idyllic setting, with unbeatable tourist infrastructure, is a veritable holiday haven,
For anyone looking to enjoy sun and sea, the attraction is like a piece of heaven,
The beach town gleaming above the cobalt-blue waters is a joyful sight to behold,
The allure of the windswept pebble beaches is so mesmerizing, if truth be told

The village is always teeming with tourists lazily walking the cobblestone streets,
The animated incessant Spanish chatter with exciting overtones is such an audible treat,
The blazing sun beating down all day from a spotlessly blue sky is never a deterrent,
To people of all ages sauntering the streets, joy writ on their faces, that is so apparent

Colorful sun umbrellas can be seen planted all along the beach, spicing up the milieu,
While the adventurous brave it out to get their suntan, unmindful of little else in view,
A dip in the clear blue water provides an exhilarating experience thro' the day,
The feeling is of total relaxation charting new frontiers, in a wholly different way

It goes without saying that Cadaques is a delightful town for the epicurious,
Restaurants abound in plenty, as they wow to whet the appetite of the curious,
Visitors flocking in droves at all times of the day, is such a common sight,
The menu dished out is of an irresistible variety - naturally, a gourmet's delight

Dozens of gelato shops can be seen virtually in every street,
The vast variety of flavors is mind boggling and an inviting treat,
Serpentine lines at each shop reflect the popularity of this delicacy,
Experimenting with combos is perhaps a fitting culminating fantasy

For strollers, the meandering lanes of Cadaques are an absolute delight,
The sloping by-lanes lined with shops on either side, are an interesting sight,
Skilled artisans flaunt their wares, with determined attempts to persist,
At the end of it all, the inclination to splurge, is undoubtedly difficult to resist

Spanish painter Salvadore Dali's house in Cadaques definitely merits an outing,
A walk around the house depicts his life in the village through his painting(s),
The scenic walk around the well-preserved grounds holds a lot of history,
That he was a tremendous inspiration to the locals, is of little mystery

Groups of people can always be seen walking from one end of the town to the other,
Animatedly chatting mundane and specifics that is delightfully difficult to decipher,
While the preponderance of Spanish locals is perceptible, global participation is nothing less,
It is this cosmopolitan aura that lends color to the charming town, stopping short of iconic-ness

The sound of lapping waves still rings in your ears long after you leave this quaint beach town,
You wish you could turn the clock back and dash back yet again as if making a U-turn,
It is this very quintessential charm that lures visitors to the hidden town with quiet coves,
Spread the message through word of mouth, that visiting such places merit many encores

If a bell tolls...
For whom, is a lover known?
Threshold to act upon weary eyes, oh you soul
The creation we find, in void moments sown...

A rue of compassion
The till in evidential hills
Sun and wine, to tell a tale to promises lasting...
A herald of simple gifts and rises of poise, will

Lovers to the end
Exactly need, in voice's portrayal
And seeking guidance for a named lip, here is mend
In the scope of distance and reality of a soul

Succinctly new?
And with sense's favors, to claim a richness of good...
In the speed we accredit to love, is worth a filial who?
Seeing the gesture bloomed, is fate acts or paces, new?

Heed me when the holiday is over, lover
Might's to consider a whole, if a liberty is to be
The thought of romance, is a changing season, meant dour
In the shared seldom, of when a passion has it, to lead...

A fruit of conscience
A hap of solace, predestined to same
A reason of couth, to collect a hardier presence
A wish of blessing the best you have to often, and the patience of fame

Early oracle of harmony
as a swift tide of rays
kisses the world magnolia.
The day is rinsed in purity;
breeze whispers its first song in
the tree’s opalescent sepals
where a colorful blooming
above is glimpsed by the
watchful eye of now.

Here mind is free to invent
its own ballet, a host of
feelings rising like a flock
of birds with each passing
sensation.

Here are depths of time
suspended in the stillness
of palm fronds as moist heat
lays its lazy blanket over
beach and sea.

This season is peopled by
idea ghosts haunting the
corridors of thought left
idle for too long, the ever-
moving tide of change
soon turning.

Oh, to be invisible as wind,
simple as air yet constant
as an orchestra of waves
rising, plunging, withdrawing
and returning again and again.

It’s nice to have some holiday downtime and not be all go-go-go. I’ve even gotten in some Animal Crossing play. After 40 minutes of picking up weeds, Bianca, one of my villagers, told me she’d heard I was dead.

Later, we’re in Lisa’s living room taking turns playing songs from Spotify.
Lisa just played “Woo”, by Rihanna. When the song ends, fading out, Leeza deadpan said, “That song is pure evil.”
“You guys, I forgot to mention it but that is my energy song, it makes me feel so HOT.” Lisa adds with a chuckle.
“It has an evil vibe,” I admit. “An evil vibe,” Leeza confirms.
“Don’t be judging,” Lisa reminds us.
“Your next,” Lisa said, nodding to Leeza, “What’ve you got for us,” she speculates, “some mental health rock?”

Leeza’s had this girl-punk-rock group called “Vancougar” playing on a loop in her room. At first, I wasn’t enthusiastic but now I think they slay. Her mom’s even gotten on board, dancing “the twist” to “Philadelphia” when it rolls around. Leeza has great taste in music although she leans a bit EMO (emotionally *******) for me. She makes me feel old by introducing us to all these new bands like “Youngest and only,” “Calling all Captains” and “Beatrice Dear.”

“I’ve got one song to play,” Leeza says, “Paparazzi, by Lady Gaga.”
“I’ve been listening to that song all WEEK!” I gasp, “I love that song, it may be her best - that’s so random,” I finish saying as the song starts.
As Paparazzi ends Lisa says, “That song has major Gwen Stefani vibes.”
“It DOES,” I agree, “It could be “Cool” or “Sweet Escape.”
“Yeah, for sure,” Leeza agreed, “shoutout to No Doubt.”

Leeza says, “I have a conversation topic: What’s something we all acknowledge is cheugy but we still do anyway?”  
“Being blonde,” I say, which gets stitches of laughter because it’s true and Lisa and I are.
“That’s true, that’s fair,” redheaded Leeza laughs. “Anyone blonde is dead to me,” which gets her a pillow in the face.
“Ok, I’m going to come for a lot of people,” Lisa says, “but yogurt, yogurt is cheugy.”
Leeza gasps, “You think yogurt.. It’s not cheugy!” she practically yells, “It gives MOM.”

I’d just finished my fall-term exams. I felt at once both played-out and relieved.
Ever felt like just falling over? Didn’t I deserve that small treat after what I’d achieved?
No doubt our floor was ***** but dust, in blonde hair, isn’t easily perceived.
I was lying, relaxed, on the cool common room floor in sedate prostration
when my boyfriend arrived. He was eager for some post-exam reunification
but I lacked the energy for synergy, the motivation for combination
or even flirtation. Which left him grumbling with male frustration.
He suggested, “Why don’t we go out for some libation?”
Oh, what a smooth-talker - that’s practically a direct quotation.
“Oh, sure,” I said, “ply me with ***** and into temptation!”
Side stepping that, he proclaimed, “It’s time to celebrate and the start of vacation!”
I held up my hands and he pulled me upright, “Ok.” I said in resigned assignation.
A shower and change of clothes soon had me refreshed and reanimated.
How sad I’d have been to miss the end of term conversations imbued by holiday decorations
and I offer this to you, my small, winter, college-based narration.
In the hope that you’ll be inspired, even if you’re tired, to celebrate your own holiday occasions.

Happy Holidays Everyone!

We’re no strangers to perceptible sacrifice
so, we’ve put all flavors of fun on ice.
Einsteining overnight - alone - is
about as exciting as a windows phone.

But I’ve been-to-the-show as a pinckney,
and in my years of parental-stalking analyses
the juice is definitely worth the squeeze.

Soon holiday parties will be made gold
by candlelight and champagne cold.
We’ll decorate with reds and greens
and surrounding ourselves with tinseled things
we’ll sing songs of angels and newborn kings.

But not just yet, no, not now - now tis the pre-seasoning -
a time of unrest, stress and testing - and God help
you if they’re not impressed with your reasoning.