| Entries for the Winter Holidays Literature Contest |


GoldenSuch vividness can not subdue Into a less evasive hue, Beaming above, warming within Filling beyond, before it ends.Golden
Starlight sparks the sky in gold Tonight awaits, our dreams unfold The season shines its gilded tones Guiding the star of Christmas home.
sinnaminsun 2009


Seasonal Spectrum...Haloed moonlight falls December painted silver As we lay dreamingSeasonal Spectrum...
Christmas eve nightfall Deep darkness lit with starlight Indigo midnight
Red eyed wakefulness Waiting for bright clad Santa Stocking on mantle
Jack Frost weaves his lace And scatters dusty snowfall White frosting blanket
Handmade paper star Fashioned by eager child hands
Hung in pride of place
An orange and nuts Traditional festive treats
Spiced taste of fruit punch
Holly and 'peas' on earth Pine wood s


Zombie SantaSnow falling gently from crisp winter sky Fresh Winter air, a good day to die. Donning my red and reigning the deer I sense that the day has come very near.Zombie Santa
Vermin methodic consume my mind, Foddering noisily, churning the brine. Soon will I shamble a blight on the moor Dripping my body as microbes refine.
Burning within a hunger denied Dormant until the day I retired Driving what's left completely insane Daily consumption of all human brain.
Eggnog and chear are no longer dear But Christmas is more of a smorgasbord. Great spread of food, a


The night Santa DiedMy name is Lucy and I'm five years old Last year for Christmas Santa brought a divorce to my home. Now my dad lives in New Jersey, my mom in New York. I've tried all year to get on the bad list I don't want that chubby home wrecker to bring me shit.The night Santa Died
Last night my momma told me that though I was bad Santa wouldn't forget me he forgives and forgets. So I snuck out of bed, and crept quiet as a mouse I booby trapped the chimney and left Rufus our Rottweiler out.
I poisoned his cookies and pee'd in his milk Then out on the lawn I stood and I sprayed The roof with the h


Macabre CelebrationsIt's only a place with pokers and wood.Macabre Celebrations
It's only a place, once kempt with fire, but alas, it is my home
Skeletal fireflies flitter above in red and green
A timely affair as Christmas spirits rise again
Up from the grave A boney hand grasps my shoulder "Here you go, kid," a raspy voice
from Uncle. Fowl, his name, has something in his hand
Bones curled over an object Primped in shredded ribbons The flesh of my hand, it cringes As I receive the object, wrapped in tarnished cloth "Thank you," I clasp the object, Sto


Throw Thy Cares AwayI know too well the broken men scattered across this tainted plot. "Home for Christmas" they'd said and yet I see no ships to sail us home, no white flag set upon the distant snow. I see only blood-soaked ice, rats' teeth permeating uniforms of men once living.Throw Thy Cares Away
But now, my comrades are corpses, my friends rotting flesh and in the distance children sing. "You can count on me. Please have snow and mistletoe, and presents on the tree." I see no love-light here; only the flicker of gunfire, the shimmering barrage of shells Overhead.


The Devils DayThe full moon flies I can hear the child's cries The angels sing To heavens kingThe Devils Day
If only he knew What stood by In my robes of blue Self proclaimed lord of the lie.
Myrrh is mine It's bitter perfume Breathes a life in the gathering gloom And I can see the stars shine
Three kings of orient are This body has traveled far
My fingers brushed his face Like a kiss of silken lace
Lord of Lords And heavens own sword Crucified in the name of sheep Their souls mine to keep.
Christmas they'll
| Entries for the Winter Holidays Literature Contest |


Conversation with God IYou got mad at me that day I got high on communion wine and tied your rosary around my hips and told you I could talk to God. I could read the lines on his cheeks right through these calloused palms and I loved how his voice rose up tempered and clear like spring, not thin and waspy like you promised. He called me by name and while his coat was too long for me to see his feet, I knew he did not wear shoes and anger was not his road.Conversation with God I
He took my hand to walk and told me there was no shame in falling with grace &nb


Ramshackle HeartMy ramshackle heart speaks French in doorways where streetlamps spin like dervishes across the sidewalks and the light curls up to the sky and lays its breath upon the light.Ramshackle Heart
It beckons a beautiful woman to slide out of bed and run away from her dreams and slip into a dangerous shade of red in front of a jealous mirror that can read her mind.
It lures her to dance, an invitation of tango steps that bob and weave like punch drunk stars, hip to hip, my hands whispering a sonnet under her breasts


pieces of youi keep finding pieces of you. careless scars under the piano where you hid when the room got loud with flies. thumbprints in the hall closet where mother put you during storms and you thought the coats smelled like someone lying. a used shadow in the pool house, playing hopscotch under the old canvas tarp breathing in the corner. and on the porch where you slept, naked and lost in summerpieces of you
those raw parts you asked me to keep safe.


EdenBring me to your feast of rags, that groaning board of earth and tears where you ache to eat the righteous, and I will undress these scraps of hidden wounds too deep to stop believing.Eden
I will lay the table in green leaves and press poultices with the cool, running water of my hands where daylight gapes in hungry children, and pull us from the tired cloth of living.
I will make pilgrims of my fingers to peel away those sore, rough blows and words that starve our hearts, and anoint our eyes with


FabricThe fabric of you, richly woven in brilliant threads, and the almost divine thrill of silk that bruises my fingertips when I unbutton you and turn you inside out. I wear youFabric
like my favorite jacket - suede patched sleeves and velvet cuffs, lapels that whisper your secrets to my skin and seem to pull the night into your pockets as I watch your colors run, long and singing in the dark


SilenceI watched your hands dangle at loose ends from your coat like butchers, the smell of low tide clinging to your pants in the shallow light, and felt fear fill the room again. I knew your face and what it meant and how the world could go blank in the blink of an eye; how dreams, pigeon soft and slow, got caught between your ribs and beat down like something caged. I saw the window catch your reflection, your shadow softly criminal between the curtains as if fleeing, wasting the landscape witSilence


Autumn WishShe built a house of willow wood under the hushed October sky and scattered moonstones in the reeds along the river banks and prayed for Autumn's sighs, to shake the west wind from her bones.Autumn Wish
She still yearns for summer's brilliance caught between the ocean's rocky shoals, and gathers seashells from the sand among the seaweed bed, and prays for Autumn's soul to haunt where once her bare feet tread.


EndingsI know the time is coming when you will no longer leave fingerprints on my door and we will not argue at Christmas dinner about the face of God. Your chair will be cold, your plate empty, and I will watch your shadow shrink on the sofa and your voice grow reed thin and white and your footprints on the carpet will become too light to stick. Your coat will grow too large in the closet and the world will never fill your shoes, so I will shake the dust off your best suit and find the pictures I took of you whenEndings


LonelyHe knew all the colors of lonely and its complex sound - rain that nobody wanted collecting in rusted buckets and the desperate creak of stairs moaning softly under slippers; the half cast light that cried under the door and stretched its cat bones to breaking and the blue phone that never stopped ringing like his aunt's tired voice; lilacs bursting through the porch in a litany of hope gone south and grey fingers taut and wiry running the length of curtains as if looking for time to bow and hang its head. And he felt them cLonely


Fate Lines, Part VII awoke without any idea as to the time, and vaguely aware of someone shaking me. Cautiously opening one eye, the features of a young woman slowly came into focus. Sitting up, I was greeted by a piercing pain reverberating all over my head and a garble of frenzied words from the pink lips moving in front of me. I felt horribly hung over, which was most annoying, given that I had not a thing to drink the night before. The young lady's words finally broke through the miasma clouding my senses and I realized that she had been sent by my beloved Adelise to fetch me immediately to her chambers - a thought that made me cringe as it could only meanFate Lines, Part VI


Rogue Diaries VI found them in a run down hovel on one of Savannah's decrepit back streets - certainly not a neighborhood any sane mortal would haunt after dark. The place was beyond seedy, best described by the word, "dump". The exterior was all but crumbling - the steps to the porch splitting and pocked with holes, its railing dangling crazily off into the bushes - everything bespeaking neglect and wanton misuse. The interior was no better... the walls were without color - countless coats of peeling paint dissolved over time by grease. The floors were dirty, sticky with beer and urine, and other substances I shuddered to even think about. A solitary lightRogue Diaries V


Rogue Diaries IVParanoia is not a demon that afflicts my kind; and my own arrogance, not to mention my own personal history, precludes me from thinking I am anything short of completely impervious to harm. Mortals are virtually no risk to my safety (although my sanity is another issue completely), and my own kind, while offering more than my fair share of challenges and battles, invariably are either defeated or slink off into the netherworld with their tails between their well dressed legs, leaving me and the city of Savannah in relative peace and quiet.Rogue Diaries IV
So when I say I have experienced some disturbing incidents lately, i


Fate Lines, Part VThe letter had been sent by my benefactor, Anton Arroyo, and after a quick look, I realized there were several - all in nondescript envelopes, bearing no seals. My initial reaction was complete and utter bewilderment, followed by the very natural desire and need to pocket the lot and peruse them at my leisure, but I was worried she would notice them missing. Of course, I could always sit here in her room and read them, but that idea was quickly thwarted by the sound of a coach thundering into the palace's courtyard. A quick peek out of her casement window ascertained her return and I knew I had to beat a hasty retreat to my own quarters. I slFate Lines, Part V


Rogue Diaries IIIThe two of us had been playing tag all evening. The game had started nights ago in some insignificant little dive on the outskirts of the business district and had wound its way to another hole in the wall this evening. It was one of those establishments best described by the word "indistinguishable", in that its like could be found in just about any other city you could name. Non-descript decor masked a seeming lack of interest in welcoming customers at all, and the vague patina of daily grime glistened on the peeling wall paper and chipped linoleum flooring with a weariness felt by most of the guests. Intoxication was the desired state forRogue Diaries III


Rogue Diaries IIA thin arc of gold spills like a crooked smile from the solitary street lamp beneath me. Its pale ghost flirts with the encroaching darkness, edging over the pavement and disappearing into the narrow alley that butts against the sidewalk. Not a soul stirs in the empty streets below; there is nothing save the dry whisper of newspaper and unnamed debris rattling against the dying wind. The taste of winter brushes my face as I drop silently from the rooftop. But the cold I feel this evening surpasses mere weather - it is a bleak bite into the soul where my blood runs numbly like a cypher.Rogue Diaries II
I pause for a long moment, my eyes seeking o


Portrait, Part IHe did not know when he had first started watching her. It was as if he really had no concept of time or maybe time just did some sort of unrehearsed dance when he got near her, as if the moments, minutes and hours themselves could not be trusted in her company. And while he could not really recall the whens of the first time he saw her, other details were still almost too sharp and clear, like a favorite painting where one can touch the colors and feel the shapes slip off the white bluff of canvas and slide under the skin.Portrait, Part I
In fact, he was not even sure what it was he first noticed about her... It had been a warm night in New Orl


Rogue Diaries IThe night was crowded with voices, always a distraction that I had taken decades to learn to silence. But this evening it required no schooling, no act of magic or willpower on my part. Her words alone had captured my attention - no mean feat when the predator decides to come calling. The conversation had started a brilliant spark and traveled to every known recess of my mind...ideas sparring at times..at others finding a comfortable home. There was magic here, a tapestry spun of words and thoughts that was spontaneous and unexpected - an agility of phrase, a quickness that seemed to almost move one step ahead of me. How for all the world canRogue Diaries I
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for the
my work Sweetie
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~There's a special kind of freedom sisters enjoy. Freedom to share innermost thoughts, to ask a favor, to show their true feelings. The freedom to simply be themselves. ~
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Thank you so much for the
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~Shelley
What lies behind us
And what lies before us
Are small matters compared to
what lies within us
~Ralph Waldo Emerson~
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Settle down and take control.
Dig your heals in and watch them squirm,
'cause honey, this is a long and messy road,
and no, none of them ever learn.
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"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)."
-e.e. cummings
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