#holly
The air was turning crisp,
It was frosty outside,
People wore their cozy coats,
Their was a sparkle in everyone's eyes,
The fireplace was lit,
Some sat by the fire,
Snowflakes started falling from the sky,
From up a little higher.
Beanie hats were bought,
Some preferred some with bobbles on the top,
Everyone was running round from shop to shop.
A few golden lights,
Were seen from the streets,
A woman lit a candle,
& placed her hands above the heat.
A robin landed on her wall,
Just outside her house,
The sign of winter on its way,
November is nearly out.
Nov 30, 2024
Nov 30, 2024 at 1:50 PM UTC
There’s this holly tree
That can imitate
Its shape to
That of a Christmas tree,
And every time I can’t help but state
‘Doesn’t that tree look like it wants to be
A Christmas tree?’
And all year round,
My co-workers laugh politely.
Mar 29, 2022
Mar 29, 2022 at 11:51 AM UTC
i can barely keep my eyes opening
listening to everyone whine about inane ****
that they'll do really nothing to change
are you really going to quit vaping?
really?
stop your drinking?
finally get "in-shape?"
what's this years resolution?
guess what man, i don't ******* care
keep it to yourself, i could give a ****
do something for others
selfish *****
Dec 31, 2020
Dec 31, 2020 at 2:29 AM UTC
Fa-la, la-la, figging-la!
Deck your halls, don't skimp on the holly.
It's the season to be jolly -
Shelve you woes, wrap up your ills,
use your credit, put off the bills.
Follow us for merry pleasure,
you know we're all in this together.
It's just started, it's one long trial,
but we'll get through it, just fix that smile.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
You are invited to come
to dine with me
From now through all Eternity, Believe in the father, Son, and the Holy Ghost
And dine with the Lord
as your host
To live in Heaven Eternally,
All you must do is.?
R.S.V.P
~~
Kariinbba: Inspired by bible.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
(my fashionably late xmas greeting
could long foster for this century 21 a meeting
of thee poetic minds pleasantry sent once
boot not worth reap peat ting).
up in the air
mine barrel sized girth
sloshes with cheap beer
wishing many strangers
happy holidays and good cheer
making me suitable
as santa claus and his team of rein deer
chewing gum to avoid
popping in both left and right ear
yet the rickety sleigh
may not become air borne I fear
landing ungracefully
scattering presents and gear
if wooden contraption alights,
a horrendous crash many will hear
no doubt instigating
children and adults to jeer
comparing this jolly fellow to king lear
yet running for the hills
as this mad man gets considerably near
the madding crowd,
who expected a more
healthy saint nick to a pear
with healthy physique
instead of the trademark outsize rear
which cause for observers
to guffaw and sneer
whereby my trademark suit
will seemingly tear
and reveal that this clown
wears frilly under wear
prompting me to avoid
accepting this role for next year.
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 11:48 PM UTC
Holly berries drip wet with rain.
They seem painted against the dark green leaves
like a Thomas Kinkade piece,
the ones my grandmother loved.
The sky is a gloomy grey hanging over the town,
not so that it brings me down,
only makes me feel wrapped in the rain the clouds cry,
swimming through the afternoon.
Ah, what a day it is to be alive,
lying in the grass, soaked wet from weather
while dreaming snow meets the soggy ground
and rests atop the holly berries.
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 3:52 PM UTC
*If I could read you like a book
I’d read you from cover to cover.
What would I find as each leaf turned over
To find me more and more hooked?
Your expression the preface?
Your walk the reference?
Your thoughts - the appendix?
You should copyright all these.
Your table of contents
Your chapters and headings,
Short stories or pretense,
Or expression of longings.
Each page a blessing
Reader and writer forever conjoined.
Read/Writing without resting
No writer’s block or pages deformed.
One page flying into another
As the story of you unfolds.
Could I be a footnoted lover
With a love that remolds?
Or perhaps the main character,
One to gray and grow old?
Placing one hand on your spine
While the other opens the divine.
Oh if only I could read you like a book
I’d read you from cover to cover
Memorize every line.*
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 7:56 PM UTC
Loving you is like breathing;
it's natural, and instinct.
I do it every second of every day.
Without it I would die.
And being near you is like being under sunshine;
it's warm, it's bright,
it's beautiful and positive.
It causes everything to grow.
Listening to you is like hearing for the first time;
maybe like an orchestra,
where all different sounds intertwine to create a symphony.
Maybe a story, the description of a new novel,
and it's always bound to be your favourite.
Looking at you is akin to the first glimpse of sunlight during the rise,
and being mesmerized by the stars, all at the same time.
Such beauty could never be properly defined,
but I've found myself breathless in a trance when infront of you,
like looking at a piece of priceless artwork
that you're afraid to touch,
because no perfection should ever be brushed by human hands.
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 11:38 PM UTC
You don’t want to see me
You believe I don’t belong
Lack of courage in your being
I am sure I am alone
It is fine to be a believer
I don’t think that you are wrong
When acceptance is deceiving
And the rumor is too long
Name the hollow time I ask for
Name the person I could be
Lie along my own persona
I am deep within my dreams
Should you mind my flesh without a soul nor an aura?
Could you really care for me?
you are one among the holly
i am buried underneath
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 7:58 AM UTC
Holly and Ivy
Walked in the woods
Discussing who was the best
Holly was hoping her rosey complexion
Would maybe outshine all the rest.
But Ivy thought Holly was surely forgetting
The shock of her prickly demeanour
She was convinced for sure
The king would adore
All that was so special about her.
Now Ivy was bit of a hugger
You might say a lot of a clinger
But she was convinced
Her warming embrace
Would win over the king no matter.
And when the time came
For the winter queen crowning
The king of the woods was clear
He chose as his queen the lady he fell for
And it's Holly who now wears his ring.
Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
Frosted lips met rusted leaves,
Surprising both parties at its rightness,
Between the freezing and the warm,
Between the snap and the crunch,
Between Autumn and Holly.
Hearts met in the mix of November,
A tossed salad of a month where both coexist,
They met with eyes of brown and blue,
And to their shock and everything else managed to meet too,
Between Autumn and Holly.
As the eons went by,
They muddled through ice ages, warm fronts,
Surviving only in the holy sanctuary of each others' arms,
And even when their battling storms came,
They came out with hands locked,
Gladiatorial victors of all things wicked their way come,
Possible love strung between them in the month of November,
Between Autumn and Holly.
The world grew below them,
and they did their work exactly as the atmosphere demands them,
They can nearly feel it in their bones when each meteorological tide must come,
It is the way their work happens,
And the way their world, our world turns,
Between Autumn and Holly.
Yet as humankind appeared and grew there was something stirring,
There were mechanisms and smoke clouds and an unbelievable flurry,
A heavy weight of some subversive demon latching itself lightly onto the lovers,
Then deeper,
But they refused to open their eyes; their earth and humanity won't either,
So the demon festered and grew to breathe noxious fire,
Eventually making the air too caustic in their ignorance,
Between Autumn and Holly.
Words could not be spoken after the inevitable occurred,
Autumn's world is near dead from a new, ferocious Holly storm,
A touch of the hand is all each heartbroken season wanted,
But they and the world stayed silent when everything's wrong,
And those fingertips and their vast love and brilliance created this hell,
A silence and death fell onto the possible love that possibly could have been forever,
Between Autumn and Holly.
Silence is their new normal,
Quid pro quo, in a way,
Holly's eyes scream her sorrow and guilt,
Her lips, on the other hand, say nothing,
Instead of their beloved, romantic November,
They now only meet for work,
The world becomes more chaotic and its weather distressed,
And the chasm between them grows larger with each atmospheric catastrophe,
The squalls screaming like their broken hearts,
All created by their ****** brilliant fingertips,
Between Autumn and Holly.
All they have left is staring down at their world and their humanity,
Hoping one day their November, their seasons, their world can be its own again,
It is too late for them to change the tides of the atmosphere,
But across the chasm they both somber and hope one day, some day, something can bridge the divide and:
Calm the atmospheric disaster,
Calm the storms,
Calm the world,
A maybe even fix the possible love that is left,
Between Autumn and Holly.
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 11:18 AM UTC
The music may have died for some
That day in nineteen fifty nine
Don McLean said that it ended
But I say, it's just fine
The day that Buddy died
I feel it only took a wound
and though it has been 60 years
I think it's been re-tuned
If silence reigned when the music died
The Beatles would be missing
They picked their name for Buddy's group
An act that had some hissing
The Rolling Stones...would never play
If the music died as told
There would be no Exile on Main Street
There would be no band so bold
The Hollies, well that's simple
They were named after the man
If the music had really died that day
Would Graham Nash still be a fan?
To me it took a major wound
A shot that slowed it down
It changed music's direction
Took it to another town
With Elvis silent on German soil
The Beatles took the lead
They made sure music was living
And many others did they breed
Bobby Darin, Mama Cass
Jimi Hendrix and The Pearl
Jim Morrison and Brian Jones
Made the music spin and twirl
When Elvis Died, it slowed a bit
With Lennon shot...some more
But, the music never, ever died
For those who're keeping score
For each one lost...another comes
To fill the void with sound
It may have been quite wounded
But the music's still around
Each generation keeps it
In it's own and special way
That's why Buddy's music
Is still played on air today
So, please don't think the music
Died way back in fifty nine
Just look at all who've come on since
All your favorites and all mine.
May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 7:18 PM UTC
To know just where your're going
You must know where you've been
You must respect the history
The things others have seen
It's true in all things relative
Be it music, sports or life
If you don't know where you came from
You're just dancing on a knife
Gherig, Ruth and Robinson
May, and Mantle, Seaver too
Respect their contributions
And don't just say Ruth who?
Respect where things have come from
And the players of the past
Because you learn and make things better
It's what makes the **** game last
Jimmy Foxx, Bob Gibson, Kaline
Nestor Chylak and The Goose
They made baseball special
They gave the game a little juice
Orr, Richard and Gretzky
Gordie Howe and Howie Morenz
You have to know about them
You need the beginning to your ends
Bob Baun and Bill Barilko
Connie Smythe and yeah...the Chief
You have to know their history
They're what it is to be a Leaf
The game has changed immensely
Things can not go back in time
But to me...the old alumni
Made the game I know as mine
Respect the ones before you
The ones who laid the groundwork down
The ones who made it special
The non-pretenders to the crown
Elvis, Buddy, Harrison
Played the songs inside their heart
Lennon, Wilson and the rest
They all played a real big part
Every single generation
should learn from the one before
For if they don't know where they've come from
Then what has it all been for?
Nicklaus, Palmer, Bobby Jones
Sarazen and Hogan too
They pushed the gameright to it's limits
Now the pressure's upon you
The new breed are the teachers now
They're the ones to lead the way
When twenty or so years from now
You'll hear somebody say
"Respect who came before you
The ones who made us so **** proud
LIke Nash and , Perry and Taylor Hall
They played the game so loud
Pudge, Jeter, and Verlander
they brought it up a notch
They were there to stretch the limits
Not to just sit by and watch
Rory, Justin Rose and Mahan
Bubba, Dustin and the rest
They are the players of the future
They all respected the games best
So, to know where you are going
You must know where you have been
Respect, past through the future
And all that's happened in between.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 4:49 PM UTC
I've always tried to hold everything together.
Pain or love threw any weather.
But even the strong know the week.
It hurts when you get knocked down but you get back up, cant sleep.
I hope you know this in every word I speak.
Because one day I'll be gone.
All that will remain are forgotten melody's to a broken song.
I can never claim everything will be all rite.
because we all know what hides inside our heads at night.
Even when I've lost my fight
And I don't wake agene at the end of a night.
Just put your faith in the sick, deprived, and un-holly
Because death is all it seems will take you wholly
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
I need a savior to hold me up
because the worlds become to tuff
Who would save a girl like me
a blip in history
everyone always sais
keep your head up don't let them see you cry
but when the world is the one that's sick
who will save me from it
I need a savior to hold me up
not the one in the holly book
I don't think im meant to be
im just a blip in history
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 8:38 PM UTC
They didn't know that
her heart was perpetually on vacation,
stuffed
between the pages of Austen and
Murakami.
Yes, they loved her
autumn smiles, her conversations, even
the jazz ensembles of her
clothes. But her heart
was locked in the New York Public Library.
The distance was far
too great, the risk far
too much.
After all, this was the place where Paul
Varjak told Holly
he loved her
and all she did was look at him.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
*You see she falls, another angel lost
You watch as they hit her, another Kingdome gone
Why don't you help her when she calls out to you?
Broken with no sound
She feels like a sin.
A sin that never should have bean.
So put the gun to her head.
You watch on and now she is dead
She's drowned herself so many times
and at the bottom of a bottle she thinks that It will solve her problem's
And you watch on she pop's her pills
Yellow green and blue
She hop's that you knew
That she's drowning herself In her sin
because she Is the angel that never should have bean
she puts the gun up to her head
Feeling like a sin
Broken the tears In her eyes are long gone
Now she just wants to be seat free
She pulls the trigger and she's moved on
because she knew all you would do was look on*
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
I sit and think, of times that there were,
Of wind sighing in the leaves, and
The sunlight golden on her hair.
I look back, through the mists of time,
and I see the starlight in her eyes,
reflected brighter than the non-existent
moon.
I look back, on times of yore, and see there
a wall, old and crumbling, darkness seeping
in to poison life and joy, with the quiet sorrow
of half remembered pain.
I see her there, remembrance, turned cold and bitter,
Lies beyond those frozen gates.
They tell me to leave her, to go, to forget...
but how, when we stood there, her voice
smooth and quiet as liquid moonlight.
How, when I played for her, her tears
as shining jewels, precious, in their transparent
light.
How, when her voice, turned sharp and bitter
as broken glass, tore at my soul, how, when her voice,
broken now, and hoarse with the force of her screams,
whispered to me as she lay in my arms, blood red as holly,
warm and terrible as remembered love, remembered folly.
How, when she asked if I loved her, still, at the end of things,
even as her life drained from her, and her heart slowed its weary
work, and stilled beneath her pale breast?
How, when she had to ask, when she should have
known, the answer always...yes and yes.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 2:02 PM UTC
Love has a funny way of showing itself.
You told me you loved me, but I was a distraction.
A good distraction, but still a distraction.
I was always told to fight for what I love,
but apparently you have different values
or you never even loved me at all.
Evidently, you must finish what you start,
and you sure as hell finished this.
I was willing to wait, but you weren't.
Why'd you have to be so nice about it?
It'd be less painful if you purposely hurt me,
but knowing you did what you thought was best,
hurts one hundred times more than anything else.
I prayed I wouldn't see you today, and when I did,
my heart lay shattered on the floor because
you didn't seem effected at all.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 5:00 PM UTC