#decorations
Do I even like my room?
this closet of a box?
I’ve decorations of trash and memories
parts of you I’ve taken home with me
a bed, a mirror, and a closet that’s grown
a stench of leaving
an aroma of home
a place that hosted nothing but sleep
Yet I spent so much time here
none of it I could keep
Lost are the hours
I wasted my youth
I never lived a lie
boring is my truth
Lust stained that corner
where I laid my sinful head
but a ***** goes to the coroner
since I’ve never shared a bed
I love this room despite
my stolen anti-virginity
one day they’ll tear it down
and That will be the end of me.
Jan 31
Jan 31, 2026 at 3:02 AM UTC
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
.
.
A Christmas Playlist—because there's 4 days til Christmas
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_28.mp3
Dec 21, 2024
Dec 21, 2024 at 8:11 AM UTC
Santa Claus is coming.
This isn’t a luck situation.
He knows things, like if you’re sleeping.
Which is kind of creepy if you think about it.
I suppose I’m an open book.
It’s an implacable reality.
oops, better rhyme something.. let’s see..
“Santa, that elf commanda
will bring you all a panda
fresh from the jungles of Uganda
straight to your verandah”
Whew.. art is hard work.
Leeza has a small aluminum-tinsel Christmas tree in her room with a new-age LED-star topper. It slowly prisms through the color spectrum, breaking down light, like modern jazz. Small things can still enchant, if you’re open.
I was sipping dark-chocolate coffee while Lisa rearranged the ornaments on the tree - again (as head-elf, the tree is her purview). She was humming to herself unconsciously as she worked, like a finch in a beautifully lit, evergreen garden. There was no real melody to it, it was just happiness.
Peter (my bf) is here, he arrived last night - we’re workshopping instant gratification.
Even if things have been tough - I hope you have a joyous holiday - that you chose it, like an option in an app. Nothing’s sweeter than the bruised joy of someone who’s known sorrow.
Merry Christmas Everyone!
Dec 24, 2023
Dec 24, 2023 at 8:22 AM UTC
I’m at (my roommate) Lisa’s for the holidays and it was Christmas Eve afternoon. I was in Leeeza’s room (Lisa’s 13-year-old sister). One corner of the room is all pillows. A hundred pillows or more - Disney pillows like Mickey and Minnie but shrek pillows too and penguin pillows, minion pillows, mario brothers pillows and novelty pillows that look like bags of doritos, cheetos and ramen noodle soup - just about every toy pillow you can imagine.
Leeza was there on the pile with me, watching “La La Land,” my favorite movie. Leeza had never seen it and I hoped she’d love it as much as I do. In the end, she pronounced it a new favorite.
Later (still Christmas eve) Lisa, Karan (her mom) Leeza and I made our way to a lardy-dardy rooftop event space called “The Skylark,” where Michael (Lisa’s dad) was co-hosting a Christmas party. The rooftop is on the 30th floor and everything there is made of glass - even the staircases.
When Lisa told me about the party (at school), I brought out a few Anna Molinari bits I had stored under my bed (when I realized Yale wear wasn't very fashionable). I ended up wearing a black lace party dress, a black knit crop cardigan cover and white, satin bridal shoes. It seemed very on point as a "Wednesday" look. If you haven't watched the "Wednesday" series on Netflix - It's fun.
As we arrived the sun faded, as if timed, and natural light gradually gave way to the cityscape of artificial light. Once it became fully-dark, New York city glittered around us, as if the stars had dropped from the heavens to join the party.
A brass and piano ensemble played seasonal classics like Prokofiev’s Troika as we (Lisa, Leeza and I) explored the venue. Every surface seemed decorated with poinsettias, candles, and ornaments or ribbed by garlands of balsam, spruce and fir that smelled incredible.
There were (guessing) about 200 guests and servers wound their way through the crowd with trays of cocktails and champagne. These waiters were all good looking, as if picked from the sea of actors, in New York, just waiting for that big Broadway break. At one point, Leeza, with a mischievous holiday gleam in her eye, reached for a flûte à Champagne only to have the waitress twirl, at the last millisecond, like a dancer, leaving her grasping at air, disappointed.
Michael’s company had set up a tall, white and gold Christmas tree, in a corner of the terrace, under it were packages, for special clients, so beautifully, individually and uniquely decorated that you could believe they were wrapped by angels.
The papering was exquisite, handmade, thick as Liva and embossed, inlaid or pebbled with gold. They were topped with bows, brooches, angels, or snowflakes of silver, rose-brass, batic silk and even crocodile.
No doubt the wrappings were as valuable as the gifts inside and though those presents enchanted, teased and cajoled us all, they were reserved for people on the very, very nice list (a cop stood discreetly by). We were briefly transfixed by the spectacle, but the spell was broken when Leeza said, “I’m hungry.”
Cocktail parties are for adults, so after we ate, Karen stayed with Michael and the teenagers were sent home. We didn’t mind, after all, none of those presents were for us - our day would be Christmas!
Happy holidays!
Dec 27, 2022
Dec 27, 2022 at 11:36 AM UTC
Xmas light angel sparkling bright
Walkin on the rooftops
Got someone in sight
Gunna flitter and flutter
All through the night
Eyeing a weary sparrow
till all is well
till all is right
till that lil sparrow
be ready to take flight
Bonnie Raitt &John Prine
Angel From Montgomery
Puyallup
4.24.20
jbm
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 6:30 PM UTC
The hour will return,
Bad things will disappear over the threshold.
Tobacco smoke curls warmer
And more melodic punk rock.
The natives wear sneakers,
Indians make tea.
Democratic mopeds
Mass-stamped China.
He laughs and cries,
It is a parody of singers.
All itching to **** him,
Tease other people's fathers.
Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 4:44 PM UTC
Evergreen trees & cranberries
Pine cones soaked in cinnamon oil
Candle holders for the beautiful Christmas candles.
Time to decorate with all the fresh trimmings.
Now where are the push pins and tacks?
They say there are only two reasons to forget:
1) I am in love, or it is 2) Senility.
I pray it is Love!
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 8:27 PM UTC
*T'was a month before Christmas and lights needed hanging.
The tree needed trimming, (my headache was banging).
"The stocking were hung on the chimney with care..."
While electrical chords, were strewn everywhere.
I unloaded boxes of tree decorations
And listened to carols from old AM stations.
"When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter...."
I hurried outside to see what was the matter.
Over-reaching the hedges, the ladder gave way.
And then I saw, in the bushes he lay.
After shocking himself with a faulty light socket,
His tootsie roll'd melted, inside of his pocket.
He stumbled and bumbled, untangling the strands
Replacing the burnouts and cutting his hands.
The ordeal was finished. At last! What a feat!
(Then one strand burned out, as we watched from the street.)*
Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 10:36 AM UTC
Sitting on the shelf,
collecting dust.
Used as decorations,
rather than their actual purpose.
To be read is what they desire,
yet that is something they shall never acquire.
So they sit, as life goes by,
being forced to comply.
Their wish may not be granted,
and it is the wish of others they follow.
If their's isn't, someone else's should be right?
So, as decorations they sit,
hoping someday, their wish will be granted,
and they will benefit, once more.
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 4:27 PM UTC
HANDMADE CHRISTMAS
Do you remember back when
Christmas was making things
Out of stiff colored paper
Like chains of slim paper rings
That were so long we took them
And wrapped the a few times
Around the tree as pretty trim?
We made angels and snowflakes
From something called shirt boards;
Cutouts covered with aluminum foil.
They didn’t need extension cords.
And Mom showed us how to starch
String we dyed. We wrapped it
Around some inflated balloons.
When each dried, we popped it.
We made reindeers and Santas
Our of wooden clothespins
With pipe cleaner antlers or
Cotton beards for Santa’s chin.
Mom dyed an old sheet green
For under the Christmas tree.
Prettier than the store-bought kind
It has always seemed to me.
In school we made Gifts too
Things knitted or made of clay
To give to Mom wrapped up
With great pride on Christmas Day.
And that wrapping paper was
Was all Christmas color tissue.
It was inexpensive to buy, so
Using a lot was not an issue.
Some gifts were appreciated
Some maybe not as much
But in every case, we were
For the most part very touched.
You knew for sure just by looking
What care and love went into
The handmade presents that were
Made totally and especially for you.
Brent Kincaid
12/12/2015
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 6:39 AM UTC