Poems about December


№ 1209682

Diary of the Damned -- Tuesday, December 30th, 2014

As I sit here and write through this silence of night
The voices wage war once again in my mind
The hopeful and hopeless, both blinded by sight
Bleed more dust from their armor
Never settling score
I hold dear the light, through the violent plight
The choice of my rage...to defend what is mine
To hold to the hope that soon, all will be right
No more pain will I harbor
For I'm worth so much more

The words don't come easy as battles rage on
Especially when I'm my own greatest foe
Tortured by every word, right or wrong
Second guessing my self
Every which way I turn
I want to give up, but I want to go on
Serenity somewhere adrift in my woe
It seems that I've battled myself for so long
I've lost touch with myself
And I've left me to burn

Somewhere there's a lie between myself and I
Both of us perfect strangers who cannot agree
To hope and to try, or to give up and die
If I can't save myself
Maybe I can save me
If I find peace of mind, maybe I can survive
But which piece holds my peace still remains to be seen
When the plans of both I and myself go awry
Am I fooling myself?
Will I ever be free?

My darkness and light both continue their fight
If there is an end, it's one I've yet to find
Try as I might, nothing seems to go right
Each attempt now much harder
Than each time before
So I sit here and write through this silence of night
As the voices wage war once again in my mind
The hopeful and hopeless, both blinded by sight
Bleed more dust from their armor
Never settling score

december,  diary,  tuesday.

Author: Diary of the Damned
Date: 06/04/2020

№ 1209192

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

He is my rock,
My calm blue sea.
He is the lighthouse
Who's light guides me.
But my element is fire,
Hot to the touch,
And I need somebody,
Who burns just as much.

december,  wednesday.

Author: Roseanna H
Date: 06/04/2020

№ 1208510

THE PAST (7th December 2015)*

Does the past have
An 'expiry date'
As in merchandise
'best consumed by... '?

If I had no past
What am I then?
Could it be obliterated and meet
With a sudden end?


Author: MS Lim
Date: 05/04/2020

№ 1207527

December, Part II

As soon as you are gone, my body cries for you to begin again.
My bones remember your weight,
Crushing bliss.
Half-spun moments free from thought or care or existing
I am lost, in you.
I am found.

Lover, I do not know whether you are spinning our tale
Or unraveling it.
Never has love felt so fragile or unbreakable,
Your skillful hands twisting my wishes into ribbons,
Leaving them scattered on the floor
Next to the denim husks of our discarded selves.

I fear this mistake.
I fear that we will not make it often enough.
Memorizing your outline, I make my provisions for your eventual leave-taking.
Everything must go.

I carry you with me,
Escaping into the strange sweetness of your smile.
Poetry is your broad shoulders
Turned away from me and feigning sleep.
I do not weep.

Perhaps this is the ending,
Slowly fading, credits rolling, riddled with bloopers a casual audience will never see.
Maybe the sum-total of my love for you will be told
In bleary-eyed mornings, wordless hugs on my way out the door.
But Lover, you have forgotten the heart of the one who loves you,
One who knew your soul before your body.
I am gracelessly, unremittingly hopeful
And perhaps this is the darkness that falls just before the phoenix sings,
Raising the dawn.

december,  ii.

Author: Hannah A
Date: 04/04/2020

№ 1206825

Once Upon a Red December

White was the only color I see
The trees surrender to the frost
Lights twinkling upon the streets
I thought I saw a lady in a red coat

But do not feel anything when you see her
Her red coat might be warm
But her heart is the coldest you've ever touched
Her white hair blending with her surrounding

I touched the frozen window
She smiles to herself
The snow fell harder and harder
As my heart beats faster and louder

Everything slows down
As she rushed to her faith
And red was the last color I saw that day

december,  red.

Author: Elle Sang
Date: 04/04/2020

№ 1205997

December 25, 2016 Reflection

Your consciousness is restricted by your self-imposed ignorance. You are so much more then your consumerism impulses, your romantic fantasies/heartaches, your political ideologies, and your religious dogmas. You are a universe of potential, something that can be developed in the stillness of introverted introspection, something that is unique and beautiful, something that longs to be shared with the world. You are your own mechanism for self-directed emotional, intellectual, nutritional, and neurochemical evolution. You just have to look beyond the predefined prepackaged reality and realize just because it is done this way does not mean it has to be done that.

december,  reflection.

Author: Graff1980
Date: 03/04/2020

№ 1203474

A Connecticut December

The click and pound and beat
Will be the final thing that they hear
Not their moms saying have a good day
Or their dads squeezing them and saying I love you
The Christmas Tree delicately lit
Will be the candle to remember them by
And the ornaments that were delicately placed
Will be the bullets that were fired...
The classic winter wonderland
Will be altered this year
No longer happy and cheerful
Or up-beat and comforting
The shots ring through your ears
Will be all that you hear come Christmas Eve and Day
Not the hourly chimes of the town clock
Or the regular carolers
The Christmas Tree delicately lit
Will be the candles to remember them by

connecticut,  december.

Author: Sora
Date: 01/04/2020

№ 1203125



Panties blossom
On the dancing washing line
December daffodils

Her blouse
Wearing only weather
Blooms bustily

All her clothes
Mimic the body
That has worn them

"Come... dancing! " hollers the wind
"HeeeehAWWWW! ' shout the clothes
Line dancing

An infatuated ra-ra skirt
Jumps off line
Goes solo

Ra-ra skirt elopes with wind
Over the wall it goes
Scaring the cat

Panties cling on
For dear life
OooOOOPS... they're down

A bouquet of panties
Scatter over lavender bushes
Daffodils dancing

Now the wind falls
The clothes ashamed of themselves

A pink panties
Perched rudely
Upon the rue

I go gather 'em up
The panties blush
At their misbehaviours

The ra-ra skirt
Knows the game is up
Comes quietly

Only the daffs surprised
To find themselves here at all
Giving themselves airs and graces

Daffs yell in yellow
Bow their lovely heads
Pray to whatever God made them

"Dear Lord... " they passionately pray
"Thank you for giving us
This delightful December! "

daffodils,  december.

Author: Donall Dempsey
Date: 31/03/2020