Seeking Dreams

I'm keeping it surreal. Not dripping clocks
Or walking rocks hard fast upon your heal.
The dream will seem to come in cream that tops
The milk can poets lift among the crops.
The crops are fruiting stop signs in long lines
To harvest in the winter when designs
Descend delightfully in dimpled flocks
That not even the Spring would dare repeal.

I'm sure this network field will yield, or merge
With plastic prairies sprouting poppies pure
As coal. Our only goal should be to toll
The walkers and the bells upon the knoll
Until we cannot hear the snowflakes grow
Upon the wind. We've surely sinned to know
And overflow with every mental urge
Until by seeking we become unsure.

The future fades to fact in foamy dreams
Where certainty is certain to succeed --
Poetic lies of pies and plums and pain
That won't refrain -- the dreams of the insane
Bewildering the present to present
A present of the prescient who all went
To where the certainty has turned to seems
And all the dreams are realized in deeds.

Merry Krampus!

The jingle bells will tinkle
To let you know he's here
To feast upon your naughty children's fear

On Christmas Eve the Krampus
Will come and get your kid
And put him in a cage and shut the lid

The jingle bells will tinkle
As cruelly he will laugh
As he pokes at you with his wooden staff

On Christmas Eve the Krampus
Who knows of all your tricks
Will beat upon your backside with his sticks

The jingle bells will tinkle
And he'll say with a grin,
"Be good or I'll come back for you again!"

On Christmas morning Krampus
Drops off the girls and boys
Who needed discipline instead of toys

Santa Claus and Krampus

As Santa sleighs across the sky, the snow
Clouds drifting in, the Krampus trails along
To punish all the children who don't know
How to be good, and for them sings this song:

I come tonight collecting boys
And girls who are bad
They're put in bags and beat with sticks
I'll beat them mad or sad

And Santa sings along as well -- he sings
A song of joy that echoes out above
The towns as soft as smooth angelic wings --
To everyone he sings this song of love:

I come tonight, deliver toys
To children who are good
I bring my bag of presents which
Bring joy to those I should

And thus the Krampus travels through the air --
A long-tongued, dark-hair trail of Santa's sleigh --
The two together ensure life is fair --
The bad are punished, good allowed to play.

The Pigeon in the Park

I love to watch the pigeon bob her head,
The sun refracting off her neck to shine
In purple-free, deep colors rich as wine.
She stops to fill her breast with my white bread
I broke to bring her here to keep her fed
So she can make a milk that is divine
That only in her breast can she refine
And feed to those who languish in her bed.

She stands upon the concrete corner, cool
And cautious, ready any time to fly --
She always wonders if this is a trick.
She bobs her head. Is she a feathered fool?
And yet, her stomach's full, she can't deny--
And so if there's a blow, she hopes its quick.

In the Magical Land of Ohio

I want to run away one day
To fields and fields of corn
Perhaps a city's where I'll stay
Where factories adorn
A land in winter covered in snow
The magical land of Ohio

I want to go where cities rise
Like weeds among the fields
I know that I will find my prize
Where all the flat land yields
Such fruited grains, where everything grows
The magical land of Ohio

I want to discover myself
Under a cloudy sky
I want to get off of this shelf
And no one can deny
There's no place like this place I don't know
The magical land of Ohio