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Dave L Nash

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Who-Life (aka The Christmas Poem)
by Dave L Nash

Sunday, September 05, 2010
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Dave L Nash
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A Poem in my book "One Crow: Fled from the Murder"

The cold is back
It runs white through my bones
And white through the homes of all the children
Anxious to see
What the morning tree breathes
Into their possession

Grant me this next year
I ask without taking
I ask without gingerbreads
I ask without baking
I ask without who-gobblers
I ask without faking
I ask without cinnamon
I ask without staking
My whole lot in this lot
This whole lot in here
My whole lot in this spot
This whole spot in fear
That each day draws closer
And closer draws near
And if you say something
I doubt that I’ll hear

If closer is far away
Now for the time
Then what day, in what way
Drew closer the grime
The grime of renewal
The grime that is mine
The line of the spool
Unwinds and unwinds
It pins back the dreamers
It pins back all mine
The time I’ve spent dreaming
Is mine, they’re sublime
And only I know them
I smile and I rhyme
But each time I stop rhyming
A faint glare takes my time

And all that time rhyming
My time, it flew by
And all my time flying
I’m grounded now, fine
I’ll take what I get
And I’ll get what is mine
So fly away, rhyme away
Never decline

So grant me this next year
I ask without muffins
I ask without dreaming
I ask without stuffing
I ask without who-hash
I ask without nothing
I ask without presents
I ask without loving
The ones who don’t need love
The ones who commit
To loving themselves
Yeah, they’re all full of shit
They’re all full of something
That’s making me sick
We all need somebody
To take the world’s tricks

It hands out enough tricks
I know this is true
They build up just like bricks
A tower ensues
And if you’re not careful
You won’t win; you’ll lose
You’ll lose all your dreams
You’ll lose your who-shoes

So promise me one thing
You’ll never unwind
You’ll never accept
That you’re time rhymes just fine
You’ll never believe
That it’s all in due time
You’re who-life in who-ville
Is over at 9




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Reviewed by Michelle Mead 9/9/2010
I like the use of Suess-isms in this poem, interesting.

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