If you’re looking for yuletide cynicism here,
you’re shopping in the wrong place.

This is New York City’s time of year.
It’s stood the test of time and it fairly sparkles,
proving that the ordinary can be extraordinary.
With the right lighting.

Lisa’s (parent’s) apartment glitters like our promised heaven on high.
When we left at Thanksgiving, Michael (Lisa’s dad) had the concierge
service stressed, toting boxes of decorations up from their storage area.
When I waved my goodbyes, he appeared to be wrestling an octopus of
cool-white fairy lights into submission. Now everything glitters pyrite bright.

Our holiday time is limited—and this is our chance to unwind—so we’re
selective about what we decide to embrace. For instance, there was a sale
at Michael Kors where, no big deal, I got a pair of brogue, black
leather wingtips that’ll be straight fire with a little black dress.
The bargains were so good that I decided the store must be a drug front.
Not that I’m complaining. Do I ever complain? Nope, I’m stoic.

Like Eric Adams, the mayor of New York, Lisa and I’ve
been “testing the product” of Manhattan's club scene.
We’re searching diligently for the new and unfamiliar.

When it comes to picking which clubs we want to visit,
Charles, our driver and escort (a retired NYPD cop),
has gone as far as to suggest, we’re “out of our depth,”
and refused to let us even try one or two DJ’d, pop-up clubs
in Queens that were getting a lot of heat and likes.
“Roosevelt Avenue is the new 42nd Street,” he’d said.
What does that even mean??
Indignant silence

Anyway,
I hope Christmas finds you all merry and bright and that your holidays—whichever you celebrate— are carnivals of food, music, friendship and love—for those are the luxuries that count the most.
Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Merry Kwanzaa, Happy Festivus!
.
.
Songs for this:
Absolutely Everybody by Vanessa Amorosi
Rock With You by Traincha
.
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A Christmas Playlist—because there's 4 days til Christmas
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_28.mp3

Tranquil Sunday Morn!

On this tranquil Sunday morn, let me share,
A poem to uplift and inspire, with care.
When the sun's gentle rays kiss your face,
Embrace the day with boundless grace.

Let go of worries, troubles of the past,
For today is a chance, a new die cast.
With each rising breath, feel your spirit soar,
Know that within you, endless strength pours.

Dream big, for dreams have no boundaries,
Reach for the stars, with unwavering certainties.
Believe in yourself, your heart's inner fire,
Ignite your passions, let them take you higher.

In the depths of your soul lies a hidden power,
Unleash it, let it bloom like a wildflower.
Embrace the challenges that come your way,
For they mold you, shape you, day by day.

Find joy in the simplest of moments, my friend,
For life's true treasures, often they transcend.
Be kind, spread love, like sunshine's gentle ray,
Illuminate the path for others, show them the way.

Today is a gift, a chance to start anew,
To pursue dreams, to make them come true.
So seize this Sunday with courage and might,
Embrace its essence, bask in its radiant light.

May this poem inspire you to shine,
To embrace each Sunday, oh, so divine.
For within your heart, the power resides,
To make Sundays and every day a joyful ride.

The sun appears
bright in the sky,
illuminating the
surroundings with
its warm and vibrant
rays.

A clear blue sky
with no clouds in sight.

It's a wonderful day to
enjoy outdoor activities
or simply bask in the sun's
warmth.
Loving it! Cloudnine
feelings. 😊

It's not Christmas without Santa
Or without the jingle bells
But, in the darkness there's another
Taking children down to hell

Yin and Yang, a balance
There is darkness and there's light
Santa on the left side
And Krampus on the right

Parents watch your children
If they're on the naughty list
Because Krampus is out hunting
And these children are not missed

A myth, or dark reality
A monster from below
Did Johnny just go missing?
Or was he taken down below?

Jingle Bells, both have them
One is joyous, one is not
Santa lives where it is colder
Krampus lives where it is not

Bad children do not fear him
But soon enough, he'll find them out
With dark hair, claws and cloven hooves
They'll learn what he's about

He doesn't have a favorite
He'll take girls as well as boys
He doesn't mind the screaming
In fact, non one hears the noise

So, if a child disappears
And no one seems to care
You'll know he was a bad one
And that Krampus, well, was there

No pressure to be up today,
blessed or cursed, hold on

the hands in yours may be tiny,
of passion, steady, familiar,
frail or memorial

they touch the same
and need you here x

Christmas past
is always framed
with melancholic gilt
though its broad strokes show
no love held is ever truly lost

Christmas present
as the Polaroid is shook
takes time to reveal itself
best when pressed in the pages
of the whole story

Christmas future’s binary
seems pixel cold, clinical,
bed-ridden fears looming
but, my dears, don’t fret:
we’ll get what we deserve

Just resting my eyes
as the lights in the tree dance
and some well trodden narrative
of Christmas redemption plays
in gloss on TV

the grey pull of January
is at bay for now
held off by cellophane wrappers
and the smells of a decadent kitchen

though not a Christian
I’ll be thankful anyway,
aware of the drop either side

I’ll let my usual pissy niggles rest
til next year

Yearning for frost sharp, gaudy lights
in November seems apposite in a year consistently blighted with dull, pedestrian horror

The itch to raise a tree and string lights
to no and every god
could be scratched this time

We can pack our proud sneers
in the loft or attic in exchange for
electric hope and cellophane cheer

As nights draw in
we’ll bluff metaphors of closeness
until a wellspring comes to right us