"sugarplums" poems
Listening to them
Arguing
Swearing at each other
She criticizes his every move
He can't do anything right
He screams unforgivable things at her
She cries
And he never cries
But he leaves
For hours
Grudging
Clearly upset
I inherited her inability
To ever let things go
And when I get angry
Just like her
I scream profanities
And say what's on my mind
Letting it all out
I also inherited his grudging nature
I never forgive
I leave when I am furious
And I don't come back
I never accept an apology
I never give one either
Both traits I inherited
From each of them respectively
Are horrible characteristics
Will I be twice as bad
When I am married
If I am married
Will I fight like this
Say hateful, awful things
And never say I love you anymore?
I don't want to end up like that
I know it won't be sugarplums and glitter
I am not that delusional
But I believe
I can make an effort
To keep the romance
Alive
Even when
I have promised forever
And I hope
My relationship
Never descends
To what they have
because what is worse
than hurting
to one you are supposed
to love?
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 10:57 AM UTC
Your kisses are just as lovely as you are.
Your kisses give me butterflies like how you always give me butterflies.
Your kisses are as sweet as you are too me.
You kisses are like the taste of sugarplums on your lips.
Your kisses give the type of happiness you give me.
You could kiss me a billion times and nothing would ever change the way I feel about you.
I will treat you like a prince, as you are my prince.
I will try to make you happy, how you make me happy.
Baby, I love your kisses like I love you.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
You can hear it in the ringing of bells
And the soundest of stories.
You can see it in the way the snow falls
And the way the world is full of light.
It is the magic all around us,
From the stories of brighter stars
And the idea that maybe
Reindeer can fly in December
And magic hats can bring cold men to life.
Right now
There are some wrapping gifts to give
And others are lighting candles,
All the while
The saints are outside singing
Of the Messiah,
Of God here with us,
Of wishing you a merry Christmas
And maybe we could join them.
But it’s a silent night
And baby
It’s cold outside
So stay a while,
Stay here in the warmth
Of vivid lights and winter memories.
And remember that the breath of heaven
Exists just beyond us,
Just beyond the firelight
Where the smoke billows out of chimneys
And where Nicholas watches and waits
For us to fall asleep
With dreams of sugarplums dancing.
And remember that faith
Is something that keeps us warm
And keeps our spirits merry.
So deck the halls
And let it snow,
Because I have heard
That there are saviors born
Under the bright stars in Bethlehem stables,
Meant to bring peace to all of us.
And right now
There are living nativities
And children rockin’ round evergreen trees,
All the while
There are angles in the sky singing
Gloria,
Of the Messiah.
Singing of joy
And maybe we should listen.
‘Cause it’s a holy night
So remember Jacob Marley,
And the little drummer boy.
And remember the truth of the Christmas story,
That it’s a wonderful life
And that if Charllie Brown’s Christmas tree
Taught us anything,
Is that a little love can make us grow.
So let it snow, let it snow,
Let it snow.
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
backdrop distends
1. Nine-pane white window woman boasts bellyfull of central air
2. Sneaky sunshine sheets smothering soft sugarplums, sleepy eyes still hung with chandeliers exchange shy glances with a new world hiding behind a
3. Cheerful and robust pink mother waves goodbye to foggy ghost-cold who dangles ten frigid and grainy fingers over tiny tired schoolgirl
4. Black metal wings stretch and return to position while groggy black engine awakes to serve thirty-five malnourished miles
5. Bellyfull of central air scoops up groggy black engine both sneak into smothering sunshine sheets that envelope tiny tired schoolgirl
fade to white
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
A snowy morning brings forth crisp chills.
Kisses goodbye still hang in the air.
Little feet scamper in to seek warmth.
The bell sounds off, the teachers report.
Children are laughing, they are having fun.
Roll call is taken, and then math has begun.
A dark shadow quickly casts upon the walls.
A morning to forget unfolds...
Innocence is youth, they always say.
Yet how can you encompass innocence
When your friends don't go home?
When you see your mom break down?
Children should laugh, children should play
Parents shouldn't have to see them...
Gone forever.
How can one raise small minds in a cruel world?
When lollipops and sugarplums no longer dance.
Children are children, less never forget.
Give them their youth, give them a chance.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
Sweet melodious dreams fill my head,
Dreams of sugarplums and fairies,
Everything is calm and wonderful.
I am in bliss,
Just as I should be.
“HEY YOU,
What do you think you’re doing?
How can you be relaxing in a time like this?
Look at the mess around you,
The mess YOU created!
You don’t deserve to be in bliss.
There are papers due tomorrow,
Arguments to be had.
And hey didn’t you eat a lot tonight?
Maybe a run is in order,
Not a side of fries.
And my god, everything you say is embarrassing,
Shouldn’t you be trying to fix that?
CAN YOU HEAR ME?”
Nothing.
That’s when nothing hits.
The sugarplums go away,
And so does the person in my head,
But that doesn’t necessarily mean that things are good.
Emptiness.
The scariest feeling in the world,
Because it reminds you that you are nothing,
Meaningless,
Worthless.
You can’t breathe,
You can’t speak,
You can’t feel,
You can’t see,
Because there is just,
Nothing.
Panic.
That’s when fight or flight kicks in,
And more often than not I choose flight,
Because my mental strength is lacking,
And I am unable to deal with the pit in my stomach,
And the meaninglessness in my heart.
Sobs fill the darkened room,
Except no one can hear me,
I am alone,
And the walls are closing in,
I feel as though I’m dying,
But since no one around chooses to hear my pain during the day,
Am I really making a sound?
Or are you in a constant state of just,
Panic.
Eventually, I become exhausted from my own emotions,
Crying myself asleep I finally can get peace,
And I wake up in the morning to sunshine and roses,
But I still can’t see them.
I may be awake but my heart really isn’t.
I can walk around and laugh with friends,
But really I’m just waiting my impending doom,
When night starts again.
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 8:13 PM UTC
He lies on his grey rug
Beats beating down the drumming dim drum of his heart’s racing thump
And visions of sugarplums become glowing green orbs
On his floor where he flew to light-years above
In a space where they fight with sabers and swords
That ignite only words with such terrifying blows
And he whines along to the morgueish melody below
He screams out the lyrics to prove he knows so
The tap of her foot to the beat of the bass
Makes love to the hairs stemming stars off his arm
But she doesn’t love him so he crawls to his bed
Left her to love the crispy carpet instead
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC
Christmas, Yuletide, Noël, Nativity, Saint Nicholas, Mary, Prancer,
Santa, Elves, Yule Log, Eggnog, Reindeer, Turkey, Presents, children,
Birthday, Bells, Jesus, pumpkin pie, Navidad, Kriss Kringle, Dasher
Ornaments, stockings, sugarplums, Holidays, caroling, gifts, Comet
Christmas Eve, Scrooge, cranberry sauce, sleigh bells, Rudolph,
Christmas lights, Cinnamon Apple spice cider, wassail, Angels, list,
Christmas tree, Blitzen, Mrs. Claus, tinsel, jolly, snowflake, Dancer,
Blitzen, North Pole, snowman, wreath, candy cane, gingerbread,
Merry Christmas!
Dec 25, 2021
Dec 25, 2021 at 8:18 AM UTC
January's thaw was ever wont to deceive even the lacklustre souls with visions of sugarplums was that?
(sonnet #MMMMMMDCCCLXXVII)
How blue dusk fringes that wee chance t'avail
Myself of scribbling...ere we dine. Spring hence,
Despite frore winds' most cruel breath, tiptoes thence
Within these longer hours of light. Though frail
Perhaps in guise, yet O! in keen betrayl
Nor with aught joy, my very soul can sense
Its eye as if upon these wastes, til whence
Is only whether next month shall wax pale.
Yes, will ole Febry yield to April fer
All that? I feel it in my bones anew,
Half shivring to acknowledge what, as't stir?
Ah, wherefore do I shrink from May, and rue
The hope of daffodils and violets, poor
As all my ecstasies therein? Who knew?
12Jan18b
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 11:43 PM UTC
Christmas gifts in cheerful wrappings
Christmas trees with all the trappings
Hoping Santa got your letters.
Yummy family get-togethers.
Nobody wants to go to bed
To let sugarplums dance in their head.
Christmas time is for yearend fun.
The holidays are here for everyone.
It’s a happy time to share the joy
Whether adult or girls and boys
To look forward to, all year long
To join in singing the Christmas songs.
There is no school for many days
So the kids can go outside and play
To ski or have battles with snowballs.
Christmas time is the best of them all.
Some places people go outside and sled
And other people go to the beach instead
But not until they have stopped to see
Each present under the Christmas tree.
"Thank you" is said to all the gift givers
Then a wonderful meal they eat together.
“It’s A Wonderful Life” is showing on TV
And Charlie Brown gets a Christmas tree.
It’s a happy time to share the joy
Whether adult or girls and boys
To look forward to, all year long
To join in singing the Christmas songs.
There is no school for many days
So the kids can go outside and play
To ski or have battles with snowballs.
Christmas time is the best of them all.
Traditions like stockings with the names
And sometimes hilarious family games
Especially when relatives come to call
With eggnog and cookies consumed by all.
If there is snow or palm trees and sand
The best of times have been planned
So everyone can share the great cheer
Now that Christmas at last is here.
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 5:34 PM UTC
They say if you cry, you cry alone.
They say it’s a dog eat dog world out there and it isn’t made of sugarplums and rainbows.
But there is a pretty side to this world.
Smile and the world smiles with you
Laugh and the world laughs with you
Hysterically cackle for 10 minutes straight
in dead silence for no apparent reason at the local supermarket
and the world slowly backs away from you
and calls the mental hospital (then you scream: I can’t go back!!)
Ohhhh, riiiight! THAT’S why I don’t have a boyfriend!
Repost if you are just insanely weird like me.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC
We moved back into the residence yesterday - we were jubilant - and had a slumb-over last night, to celebrate our reunification. We woke up joyous, on the right side of the same bed (slumb-over), and we’ve been bouncing off the walls ever since.
We’re in the ‘settling in’ phase, restocking our Keurigs, getting our same-’ol furniture in the same-’ol places, picking up our books. In this liminal space, between sugarplums and sutures, our shrinking free-time will sag with increasing weight. Even last night’s normally fabulous martinis began to taste metallically laced with formaldehyde.
Once we’re settled in, our leisure will begin to have the tight, mangled fit of a borrowed jacket. “We’ve got to gear up.” Lisa said, just this morning and even as I type this, my eyes are flitting between my dog-eared copy of Gray's Anatomy and the mcat prep hub.
Classes start in 5 days. Free days burn bright, but disappear in a blink. Time is a precious coin.
slumb-over = slumber party.
Jan 11, 2024
Jan 11, 2024 at 9:54 AM UTC
He takes his last breath
for the night. The music
from exhaust engines
tire themselves out. Inside,
petty advisors punch their
timesheets, setting aside
solicitations for flowcharts
and returning to their ever
shrinking dormitories.
Good. Now we can begin,
the sugarplums declare.
(or are they centrefolds?)
It begins and ends like
every other cycle, not
that consistency matters
at all. Swivel, sway and
trot, or so is often thought.
Troops of the troupe
clean up nicely without
noise, nor is assembly
required. Soon enough,
the stage is ready.
A very handsome entity
(perhaps) pirouettes. No
matter if the platform
dissolves, for the performer
had rehearsed it between
routines. Now how about
the audience? Has the lone
ticket been sold? And the
theatre, well-unlit?
Yes. The prelude—or truth
be told—distraction bows
itself out. Stagehands,
raise them curtains up!
Eyes have no interest
in foreplay. What is in
play—skydiving?
Wakeboarding? Nudes
to the beholder?
—can only be
temporary. No actor
overstays their place.
Always, an unannounced
but not unexplainable
cameo, a kindred
spirit seeking presence
in the now, only serves
a sense of urgency,
of misplaced longing.
And then,
you wake up.
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC
The snow falls like gossamer
All over the ground
A white winter landscape
With joy all around
Be merry and gleeful
With you and your kin
I'll be inciting mayhem
With my agents of sin
You can keep your young Jesus
and his ol' deadbeat dad
Keep your fat, jolly santa
and his red, leath'ry ol' bag
My sleigh's an old buick
Tricked out with such kit
It makes Captain Kirk's warp drive
An old piece of ****
Merry metal christmas
And a ****** new year
Gather yon innocent
Round the lit evergreen
A more perfect self-sacrifice
I never have seen
Like roasting chestnuts
Their bodies will puff
Smelling of bacon and pine
A potpurrie in a hearse
And sing in the madness
Bring in the new year
A rage of songs and of fury
A purge Christmas's cheer
Merry metal Christmas
And a ****** new year
Kids asleep in their beds
Dreaming of sugarplums
They asked for an xbox
But I brought them guns
Spiked milk and *** cookies
Are fuel for the trip
Huffing tinsel to forget
How fast amazon ships
So beckon your best angels
With your red-ribbon-ed wreathes
While your racist old uncles
Drink, curse, and deceive
My iron reindeer
Care not for north poles
My midgets care not dig
F'r the kids deserving of coal
Merry metal Christmas
And a ****** new year
Wrap yourself in warm blankets
Watch old family films
Drink chocolate and eggnog
Until you've had your fill
When by embers of chimneys
And stockings carefully hung
Muddy footprints by presents
Are proof that someone had come
Fire and burgl'r alarms
Sound out through the night
Telling to one and to all
Have a ******* good night
Merry metal Christmas
I'll see you next year.
Dec 17, 2023
Dec 17, 2023 at 1:34 AM UTC
of the news the world the hate
took a good book to bed
it was not a book by Weisel
or book of poems by Whitman,
for those were too, way too dark
oppressive, too non-fictional.
I took a book to bed to be read
by the innocent child in me
which rhymed
and made me think
of my mom and dad reading
it Dec 24th of every year,
a classic,
and sugarplums again
danced in my head,
I heard hoofs of tiny reindeer
and only wished
I had not taken down
my X-mas decorations
last year
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 11:29 PM UTC