It's Chucky Birthday Time

 

Chucky Bambino

A BIRTHDAY POEM FOR CHUCK*

 

You are my king

I am your clown

Watch me fall up

& fall back down

 

We laugh and cry

And share a life

With sweet, sweet pleasure

Above all our strife

 

This is a time to celebrate you

with lobster tails braised with love

ice cream and cake that came, I swear

not from dairy & field, but heaven above

 

Not in a stable, with wise men and cows

Your birth to me is the better gift

you are a present each day to me

elevating mind and heart with joyous uplift

 

So now this 30^{th day,} as your old year ends

May the year bring to you renewed health

We will now sing and dance a song of love

with brightened eyes & emotional wealth

 

Happy Birthday for the 76th time my honey

We make a duo both serious and funny

With two sweet dogs, who love you madly

Because you make them feel so gladly

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

 

(aka: Clarence Fred Hill, Honeypie Extraordinaire)

 (©j.m.frase-white 12/30/2022)

 

 

Merry Holy Days for All

To all a healthy holiday with wishes 

that all may be soldiers of Jollity & Kindness

That Time of Year

In the North white flakes will fall
Catch it on your tongues, fiddle dee dees
Listen to joyous singing in the trees
of brave, fearlessly happy Chickadees
 
The year changes numbers to age ourselves
As Earth blankets herself with frost and snow
Taking a much needed 3 month rest
Our mother nurtures new life below
 
Some folks celebrate the birth of their king
A babe in a manger beside goats and cows
like Persephone promises eternal rebirth
Relax, dear friends, with respectful bows
 
We only wish that those we loved
Who from life have taken flight
So strong with loving memory
Could sing with us again tonight
 
Dream of colors that will come in Spring
Put on that coat, Brave the Cold
Go outside and sing a song
Look to the firmament bright and bold
 
The Stars that are eternal guides
A moon that comforts all our woes
We wish you wisdom, love and good health
From head, to your Christmas stocking toes
Happy 2023!
©j.m.frase-white 12.24.2022
 
 

I think her name was Rose

 

How I met an Angel at Boston City ER

 
The cab stopped abruptly at the ER door
Hopped out, arms crossed upon the lapels
Of the blue navy coat
Reached for my wallet
The driver commanded:
“No, just get inside quick.”
 
The hospital staff
Rushed to him without question
then I saw the red stains
on my coat, wrists flowing holiday red
the right less, more of a timid scratch
not the anguished slash on left
the staff, attended with surprising calm
a petite nurse
with angelic eyes, like her skin
the color of a hazel nut
quietly confided/chided that I had so much
I’d been given gifts
pearls that society had laced
upon my neck, in hair and eyes
I had chosen the anarchy of self
blind to the sacred jewels
hanging around his neck
the book lodged in his head
still had pages to be written
not a coffin to slammed shut and buried
 
they offered me help
counseling which flowered with
the  pen, to write on those pages
a few right words
her faith brought back
his breath, his vision
the raft to float his life
again, from the waters of disaster
in lieu of the dirt
he’d scarfed from the dirt floor of inhumanity
bidding to love someone
who knew as little as he
how to love another
 
Now, I saw, I might be a rose
(was her name Rose?)
Ambassador of Life
Exhaling hope from that soil
Not selfish, not personal
But whole, beyond, above
The stem of self
the roots of humanity
the soil of life
Grasping, sharing
With the flow of blood, inside
Alive, for all to see
And maybe, yes, maybe to bloom  
 
 
A memory jarred from a friend who talked of suicide
From a terrifying pivotal night in Boston, in 1970
With eternal affection to JTRIII, who has left the world
Jack would have been 80 on 12/12/2022
© james m. frase-white 12/14/2022