A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Sunday, November 26, 2017

Thanksgiving for days

Leftovers are best
when you've planned for them
and you've made ten times
what would have sufficed - because where
would have been the fun in not? You've got
so much more
to be thankful for

than just enough
could ever come close
to cover. And isn't
it nice? Yes it is.

It is plenty. And plenty is good.

In fact, it's one
of the best things there is
in this tumbled garden, and I assure you
this: you will never get anything good
to anyone
by a rejection
of anything good
that was given in gift.

Quit rejecting the good
within reach, in a twisted penance
against how horribly
the world outside, on your
doorstep, breathing and scratching,
preys on the conscience you have
so pain
-stakingly
jerry-rigged
up from concertina-wire
execution-style font
of those strident and earnest
accusers
you read with such avidity, and support
in spirit,
so many times

you recuse yourself

from open embrace of what
you've been so far too lucky
to face.

Grow up, and accept the things you can fix.
If there is any good, accept the gift.
You do not bring comfort, or aid, you do not
succor
or assuage
anyone suffering
by pretending to join them
in righteous and loving embrace, feeling
as fetish, for ribs so thin

You feel you must live for this.

Disgraceful act, to reject
what is good. Unless of course done
for a selfish cause: like girlish figure,
beach-ready bod, or to support the appearance
of a claimed allergy to some common food substance - otherwise,
disgraceful. To reject what is good - and especially if
you insultingly, unconscionably pose

in your striking way, as if doing so helps
those desperately in need
of the good you reject, oh! Right-on!
Ye righteous symbolist,

Spit
while you're at it,
in their empty bowl, you
cretin, you hypocrite, you monument
to vanity, you
disgrace to this world
and everything in it! Everything bad,
and everything good.

Or better yet, don't, though. Instead, come back,
repent, come in - it's Thanksgiving for days
in here, wash out that bowl,

and fix yourself

- as you so easily can, it would be shame
bordering treachery for you to pass
the burden by - this bowl, new and heavy
with freshly-hot plump, thick turkey
juicy shreds on soft thick mattresses
of gravy-laden stuffing, and sauced
with cranberry sauce, of course. What else? This

is what we call home-made. You can't take

anything in this world

this good

by force.

You can't even pay

So much gift in this life,
you know,

it would be a sin
to live
as if you too had none.
Have you had? To share?
Were there any in reach?

Did you give?
I gave. You
are welcomed
in. You're the only one
I could reach,
for this. Please
Take all
you wish, it
is free. It is good. It is better
than free:
it is

it was
a gift

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