Okay, that's pretty melodramatic, but hear me out.

It's that time of year where you stare at the endless crap and know you have to acknowledge certain relationships, particularly business relationships. Get a card? A bottle of wine? Do they drink? What about food?

Can I just sidetrack for a second: "Gourmet Cookie" is a lie. There is only ONE gourmet cookie and that's the kind that comes hot out of your oven and burns your fingers when you try to scrape it off the pan too early. Anything else, and I don't care if it's got skin from extinct animals in the sugar and gold dust in the frosting...ANYTHING else is just a cold cookie in plastic wrap. So don't buy that crap.

Every year I get a mailbox full of: stinky candles I will never burn that sit around and collect dust. Weird food packaged space-style with very pretty packaging that still tastes like stale cream cheese, booze I wish I could drink but never will, and little plastic cards meant for places I try to avoid.

This year, I got a vegetable garden (planted somewhere in Africa), a water purifier, and I helped pay for a couple girls' birth control. Okay, I also got some weird semi-food products BUT I also got some VERY good coffee from a company that spends most of their profits trying to get fair-use coffee grown where they've gone and cut down the rainforest to feed some cows.

And instead of more crap to stuff in a closet or donate to charity, I got some pretty cards to adorn my mantle, and someone else out there in the world is gonna have a dinner. I gotta say: best Christmas ever on that front.

So if you're sitting there scratching your head and staring at the bad candles and worse cookies, walk on by. Go to your computer, instead. Send a mosquito net ($18) or a water purifier ($35 -- this one was big on my giving list this year) or get really weird and give some goats. Oxfamamericaunwrapped.com has lots of goodwill to send to those people who really don't need any more crap, but could use a pinch of good karma. The Humane Society also makes gift donations possible for the crazy cat lady down the street.

So there you go. Give life. Skip the plastic, the preservatives, and the hangover. Give life...

So it's foggy out and I. Love. Fog. I just do. It's an alternate reality for those of us forced to take leave of certain illegal mischiefs onna' counta', we're grownups now and we're not supposed to.

So I'm sitting out on my back porch step, reading a bad mystery novel, drinking coffee and enjoying my fog.

When Spike the bird comes up. She hops around, making sure I know she's there. She wants some nuts, or a couple of Ritz crackers. Something. I ignore her. She huffs a bit, bounces around some more, scraping her feet. "Uh. HUMAN! I, the Great Bird of Spike have arrived. Shouldn't you...get off your butt and get me a treat, or...something?"

I ignore her.

So she flies up to the roof. Directly above me.

AND STARTS THROWING SHIT OUT OF THE RAIN GUTTERS ON MY HEAD!!!!

Her highness, Spike the Bluejay:

My favorite fractal artist produced this. HOW COOL would it be to have THIS as the tree in Rockafeller center on 2012? Seriously. A giant tower of LCD screens and this, with rotating little doodads...

On another note...I'm having a cookie baking party at my house again; we're serving up cookies and brownies and chocolate for the Hospice workers, the cops, the fire department and the grumpy people at the Post Office.

If you've never done this before, and you have kids, you should do this. Grab your neighbors, let the kids decorate the sugar cookies and then pile 'em in those aluminum tins you get for first-time turkey bakers. And then y'all carpool around your neighborhood bringing treats to local civil servants. Why?

Duh, why. Because the last place you go is the FIRE DEPARTMENT. Hunky guys who are really cute with kids. Okay, maybe it's just a California thing, but we have the HOTTEST firemen and as long as you don't show up around 4pm (that's when they're all out pulling people out of their crushed cars from the long lines of the daily commute), they let the kids try on hats and sit in the cabs of the firetrucks and they're Just. Plain. Fun. Kids have a blast, Moms get a little eyecandy, Firemen get hopped up on sugar and spray things with the hoses. It's. A. Blast.

(And it teaches your kids some useful social lessons, as well...)

On the Premises is a small blog/writers' journal with contests and mini-contests. Winners are paid, though it's no great fortune it's acknowledgement and the host of the journal frequently a)publishes stuff you want to read, and b)writes little tidbits that are either helpful or something worth considering.

The current contest is to write a full story in the form of a note to someone with 30 words or less, including the to and from lines. Winner gets $15, second and third get $10 and $5 respectively. And his article this week is something worth pondering.

+++
Also. I love winter. It tortures the poets. Just went through 300+ deviantthingies and there were some real gems in there. 'Cause'a winter, making mayhem with the writers' heads. Nothing seems to cure writers block like grey skies and wet socks.


+++

Here follow features from the Contest winners for Lili's Birthday Poetry Contest.
I hope I didn't break the rules, I picked different works to feature (other than the winning entries) than Lili did. Thanks to all the winners for offering up such yummy bits to the ether.


The winning entry, an ode to Pepperoni is from timeraider:


Now, I am not a fan of pepperoni. I am, however, giggling over this line:
Pepperoni -
Are you the remnant of a passing dream?

As heartburn has never been described so prettily!

I'm a Californian and as such, cannot leave anything be. I eat pineapple and mushrooms on my pizza, or proscuitto with a nice white sauce and feta (yes, it's deliciously salty and goes well with a nice Sonoma Pinot Noir or a lusty Lagunitas dark brew). So a couple more from timeraider for the rest of you who rail against the limits of pepperoni:


Regarding a contest between faith and nature.


Some sweet reminiscenses in the form of Haiku


I love secret messages. Who doesn't love sharing a secret with their writer?


This one could be a pop song.


A metaphor, I think for all of us who feel the need to find something other than what's on sale at WalMart.


Sometimes, you just like something 'cause it's pretty. Here are two that are just out-and-out...pretty.


And sometimes, a poem speaks to your inner beast... Please. Enjoy this little funeral dirge, this delightful little piece of murder most intentional!

***

2nd place went to JulietCaesar, who should get an award for her pen name.


The runner-up winning entry is an ode to Lili the Star-catching Rabbit, which, when said that way, sounds like a new sort of children's program.



Of children's dreams and the nasty things adults weave from them.


This is quite good; an ode to the history of Australia. There are a couple of weak lines, but given the length of the piece combined with the skill in telling the tale, they're hardly noticeable. This is a really exceptional accomplishment and certainly deserves more than 11 measley favorites.


Another question asked not answered. I like this, it has a nice flow and some good imagery.


Once more into the void.

***
And the Honorable Mentions include entries from mreid973: and Lilith-Elina


This is very sweet in sentiment, and skillfully executed. I liked this quite a bit.

Some additional pieces of interest from this writer include


This opens with a bang, a fantastic opening line and it contrasts beautifully with the very last line. A very nice piece.


Don't think about this too much, just let the pictures seep in. I can almost guarantee an image of this will pop back in your head again tomorrow. Something overheard in a supermarket, the nose on your bank teller, the woman in front of you demanding coffee from the poor kid behind the counter at Starbucks. This poem has hidden magical powers.


Clever and delightful!


You have to read this twice. You just have to. This needs...something. A better title, I think. But it's worth the wandering because the ending really packs a whallup. So it needs just a bit of a tease, a little more of a hint that all is NOT what it seems, or it'll get passed up. And it deserves to be listened to.


This is the why of pop music.


***
The second runner-up is Lilith-Elina (also a good name; the very mention of Lilith conjurs all sorts of yummy daydreams) offered this entry:



In addition, I found these two to enjoy:



###
And how about this: a peek at the ex-birthday girl's offerings? From KneelingGlory I bring you:


The trouble with being human.


The trouble with not being human.


Humans.


ex-human.


Humanity.



***
STILL MORE glorious words can be found <[link]">here, in 10 most memorable poems of the year (for me).

D'ya ever have one of those, "Ohjeez!" moments where you've seen something your whole life, but one day it takes a side-step and you finally SEE what it was you weren't seeing all this time?

Foundation sacrifice. That of burying someone/something under the foundation stones of a building in order to ensure longevity for the structure. Often rumored to be children, and practiced by whatever religion you...aren't.

And that's where the joke comes in, doesn't it? I don't know why I never saw it before, but today it smacked me in the head; they're all whispering about the dead bodies sacrificed under the OTHER churches'/mosque's/temple's cornerstones, but in the end, those who drag their kids to church and insist they're the select and special bearer of the knowledge of the One God...

are making their own blood sacrifice to the corner stone of their churches.

Foundation sacrifice. Dante. And the Bridge over the Drina. Ahhh! Of course! Foundation sacrifice!

Anyway.

===== ====== ======= ======= ======= =====x

Here follow features from the Contest winners for Lili's Birthday Poetry Contest.
I hope I didn't break the rules, I picked different works to feature (other than the winning entries) than Lili did. Thanks to all the winners for offering up such yummy bits to the ether.


The winning entry, an ode to Pepperoni is from timeraider:


Now, I am not a fan of pepperoni. I am, however, giggling over this line:
Pepperoni -
Are you the remnant of a passing dream?

As heartburn has never been described so prettily!

I'm a Californian and as such, cannot leave anything be. I eat pineapple and mushrooms on my pizza, or proscuitto with a nice white sauce and feta (yes, it's deliciously salty and goes well with a nice Sonoma Pinot Noir or a lusty Lagunitas dark brew). So a couple more from timeraider for the rest of you who rail against the limits of pepperoni:


Regarding a contest between faith and nature.


Some sweet reminiscenses in the form of Haiku


I love secret messages. Who doesn't love sharing a secret with their writer?


This one could be a pop song.


A metaphor, I think for all of us who feel the need to find something other than what's on sale at WalMart.


Sometimes, you just like something 'cause it's pretty. Here are two that are just out-and-out...pretty.


And sometimes, a poem speaks to your inner beast... Please. Enjoy this little funeral dirge, this delightful little piece of murder most intentional!

***

2nd place went to JulietCaesar, who should get an award for her pen name.


The runner-up winning entry is an ode to Lili the Star-catching Rabbit, which, when said that way, sounds like a new sort of children's program.



Of children's dreams and the nasty things adults weave from them.


This is quite good; an ode to the history of Australia. There are a couple of weak lines, but given the length of the piece combined with the skill in telling the tale, they're hardly noticeable. This is a really exceptional accomplishment and certainly deserves more than 11 measley favorites.


Another question asked not answered. I like this, it has a nice flow and some good imagery.


Once more into the void.

***
And the Honorable Mentions include entries from mreid973: and Lilith-Elina


This is very sweet in sentiment, and skillfully executed. I liked this quite a bit.

Some additional pieces of interest from this writer include


This opens with a bang, a fantastic opening line and it contrasts beautifully with the very last line. A very nice piece.


Don't think about this too much, just let the pictures seep in. I can almost guarantee an image of this will pop back in your head again tomorrow. Something overheard in a supermarket, the nose on your bank teller, the woman in front of you demanding coffee from the poor kid behind the counter at Starbucks. This poem has hidden magical powers.


Clever and delightful!


You have to read this twice. You just have to. This needs...something. A better title, I think. But it's worth the wandering because the ending really packs a whallup. So it needs just a bit of a tease, a little more of a hint that all is NOT what it seems, or it'll get passed up. And it deserves to be listened to.


This is the why of pop music.


***
The second runner-up is Lilith-Elina (also a good name; the very mention of Lilith conjurs all sorts of yummy daydreams) offered this entry:



In addition, I found these two to enjoy:



###
And how about this: a peek at the ex-birthday girl's offerings? From KneelingGlory I bring you:


The trouble with being human.


The trouble with not being human.


Humans.


ex-human.


Humanity.



***
STILL MORE glorious words can be found <[link]">here, in 10 most memorable poems of the year (for me).