Ther Vine Keeper

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Monday, December 5, 2011

my Christmas Poem

my Christmas Poem

our consciousness begins to expand
and we occupy ourselves
picking the petals
off the flowers
for that is what we have come to know

yes we have sown seeds
nourished them
as they flourished
to bud
and begin yield fruits

and the astute amongst us
including thus
celebrate our reflective vanity
and our acuit abilities
for we compete against the ether
seeking to become valid
within the illusory reflections
we call self

in our soulful mirrors
we no longer see the light
for our inner eye
is stitched shut
we live for rebellion
to dogma
and doctrine alone
and the phone rings
but who will answer

and this is the season
where Santa, Rudolph and Dancer
come to visit don’t they

Hey, stop bashing the Clause
Cause it was said
don’t be naughty
be nice
and what is below 32 degrees
won’t become Ice
bullshit i say
let me write my Christmas Poem
my way

(c) 5 December 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

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