Kids We Were,

and Starry-Eyed

Kids We Were, and Starry-Eyed Daily Poems from December 2012

Kenneth A O’Shaughnessy

Text & Illustrations copyright © 2012

Kenneth A O’Shaughnessy

Bad Bad Boy Publications

501 Agewood Drive Simpsonville, SC 29680

kempisosha@gmail.com

All Rights Reserved

This month’s book is dedicated to inspirations from the past –

The late and future Ray Bradbury

and the college girlfriend (12/12) who kept me

writing poetry as I transitioned to adulthood

Table of Contents

Contents one december, two-thousand twelve

two december, two-thousand twelve

three december, two-thousand twelve

four december, two-thousand twelve

five december, two-thousand twelve

six december, two-thousand twelve

seven december, two-thousand twelve

eight december, two-thousand twelve

nine december, two-thousand twelve

ten december, two-thousand twelve

eleven december, two-thousand twelve

twelve december, two-thousand twelve

thirteen december, two-thousand twelve

fourteen december, two-thousand twelve

fifteen december, two-thousand twelve

sixteen december, two-thousand twelve

seventeen december, two-thousand twelve

eighteen december, two-thousand twelve

nineteen december, two-thousand twelve

twenty december, two-thousand twelve

twenty-one december, two-thousand twelve

twenty-two december, two-thousand twelve

twenty-three december, two-thousand twelve

twenty-four december, two-thousand twelve

twenty-five december, two-thousand twelve

twenty-six december, two-thousand twelve

twenty-seven december, two-thousand twelve

twenty-eight december, two-thousand twelve

twenty-nine december, two-thousand twelve

thirty december, two-thousand twelve

thirty-one december, two-thousand twelve

afterword

one december, two-thousand twelve

All I want is for you to be safe

Never ever let you hurt at all

You know that it isn't possible

As those who love us hurt us the most

Life is pain. We get some, we give some

Often we wind up hurting ourselves -

Understandably in some cases -

In order to control the things that

Seem most to us to be not controlled

Except what is uncontrolled is us

Do you know that the worst pain there is

And the one we hope to have the most -

Vainly, except when we don't want it -

Is to be alone? The next worst is

Seeing you hurt when I can't help you

two december, two-thousand twelve

Time to rise up out of bed (Getting ready for the judgment day) Dress my body comb my head (Getting ready for the judgment day) Take my pills and take a drive (Getting ready for the judgment day) Arrive at church and act alive (Getting ready for the judgment day) Greet the saints and pray a prayer (Getting ready for the judgment day) Take my stand - there's no pews there (Getting ready for the judgment day) Candles burn and incense smells (Getting ready for the judgment day) Sing with the choir and ring them bells (Getting ready for the judgment day) Hear the Word and homily (Getting ready for the judgment day) Cross and bow reverently (Getting ready for the judgment day) Receive my Savior wine with bread (Getting ready for the judgment day) All one body, Christ the head (Getting ready for the judgment day) Pray again, again, again (Getting ready for the judgment day) Coffee hour and we are then Getting ready for the judgment day Fasting days, confession (Getting ready for the judgment day) Work and play we live as lights (Getting ready for the judgment day)

three december, two-thousand twelve

Christmas will be a little sparse this year Not enough money with the holiday near But I want to give you something, my dear But you don't want what I can give this year All I have to give this Christmas is me It's the only thing available that's free But the packaging is poor And what inside's a little more Than you want for Christmas, 'cause it's me. I could try to make a gift from what I find And I'm sure it's something you won't mind But to whatever I give you you'll be blind But I know it's not the gift but me declined All I have to give this Christmas is me It's the only thing available that's free But the packaging is poor And what inside's a little more Than you want for Christmas, 'cause it's me. I want you to know that I do understand A gift that's only me is kind of bland But it's the only thing that I have on hand And I love you, maybe I'm something you could stand All I have to give this Christmas is me It's the only thing available that's free But the packaging is poor And what inside's a little more Than you want for Christmas, 'cause it's me.

four december, two-thousand twelve

Two roads diverged and I had a choice Take the right one or the one that’s left So I took one The question was never, where will it go It was always, where will I end And here I am It’s not a crossroads, nor a stopping point But it is more of a waystation alongside Become a bustling metropolis of people Who just stopped. Here. Trading dreams for meals and materials To blend in with those they think are natives No one’s born here Some never come and some never leave It’s as if the halls of academia were Full of locked doors Since I’m stuck here for the time being, too I have resolved to go house to house to house And rattle the knobs

five december, two-thousand twelve

Conductor waves his little baton Orchestra plays it's tune along No sounds are coming from the man Trying to direct the band Reality is that all involved play On the same page anyway Literally the same sheet of music If someone chooses not to be in Symphony with the rest, none can Say the conductor's to blame Unless command and act were the same Everyone must conduct their own Selves in concert, never alone

six december, two-thousand twelve

It's my time to shine The future is all mine I recognize the sign And I'm not gonna whine It's my time to shine I went into the city to see what I could be A suit and tie kind of guy Said he had the job for me Just at the right time, he said I'd be starting at the head Shining his lavatory It's my time to shine The future is all mine I recognize the sign And I'm not gonna whine It's my time to shine I went to work on Wall Street where all the money goes A suit and tie kind of guy Said start here and then who knows You'll be learning at the feet Of the business elite Shine that shoe until it glows It's my time to shine The future is all mine I recognize the sign And I'm not gonna whine It's my time to shine I'm working in the movies I'm gonna be a star A suit and tie kind of guy Said if I do this I'll go far Sure it'll take some sweat But that's the shine I'll get Gotta shine where the stars are It's my time to shine The future is all mine I recognize the sign And I'm not gonna whine It's my time to shine This sink is shiny white, razor blade is bright A suit and tie kind of guy Said my future's out of sight I just can't see it now And so this is how I'll be shining with the stars tonight It's my time to shine The future is all mine I recognize the sign And I'm not gonna whine It's my time to shine

seven december, two-thousand twelve

I have got a nothing I can't keep it anywhere I would describe it to you But the right words just aren't there Sometimes it's in the vacuum And it sucks out all the air Sometimes it's in my wallet And I have nothing to spare It's hangs around my closet Then I have nothing to wear Sometimes it's all I want to eat But when I'm hungry nothing's there Sometimes it's all I think about And I can't help but stare Sometimes I get blamed for it And nothing's really fair Sometimes it gets inside my heart It hurts but I don't care

eight december, two-thousand twelve

Sometimes it’s time to close my eyes Let time stand still as it flies Each eyelid trembles like a wing Each snore the call of birds that sing Pause in flight, then quick plunging Is my sleep apnea breathing Now I wake but wish to dream on Go to potty then sleep is gone

nine december, two-thousand twelve

Why are you stuck a-way up there Get that frisbee down You should be flying through the air Get that frisbee down You’re up there laying on the roof Get that frisbee down I wish that you weren’t so aloof Get that frisbee down Oh flying disc so fair You belong up in the air Come back down I’ll set you free You belong to me Do you remember how it feels Get that frisbee down To spin so quick head over heels Get that frisbee down To fly from hand to hand to hand Get that frisbee down Floating through space never to land Get that frisbee down Oh flying disc so fair You belong up in the air Come back down I’ll set you free You belong to me Throw whatever knocks it off Get that frisbee down So we can set it back aloft Get that frisbee down Throw a stick and throw my shoe Get that frisbee down I guess I’ll just limp home with you Get that frisbee down Oh flying disc so fair You belong up in the air Come back down I’ll set you free You belong to me

ten december, two-thousand twelve

You've got to open up the surface To get down in below You've got to lay it on in layers To make the colors glow You've got to let it soak a while To let the good stuff flow ___ 'Cause you want Full penetration Got to get it deep down inside Full penetration Let your nozzle be your guide Full penetration Got to reach to ev'ry part Full penetration From the outside to the heart You've got to pick out just the right tool That'll get all the way in You've got to aim it very caref'ly To miss would be a sin You've got to make sure that you're loaded Give that chamber a spin ___ 'Cause you want Full penetration Got to get it deep down inside Full penetration Let your nozzle be your guide Full penetration Got to reach to ev'ry part Full penetration From the outside to the heart You've got to get to know your workpiece Like the inside of your head You've got to ask all the right questions Listen to all that she has said You've got to find out where her heart lies If you want that stain to spread ___ 'Cause you want Full penetration Got to get it deep down inside Full penetration Let your nozzle be your guide Full penetration Got to reach to ev'ry part Full penetration From the outside to the heart

eleven december, two-thousand twelve

There's a love song on the radio I sing along although how I don't really know It makes me blue I think of you And that is why I'm singing, so I'll sing the songs that others wrote I'll raise my voice and try to find that perfect note I sing for you I wish you knew When I'm with you the words just stick inside my throat There is music in the air tonight The sky is dark but my heart feels incredibly light 'Cause you are near You're all I hear And tonight I'm gonna sing it right I'll sing the songs that others wrote I'll raise my voice and try to find that perfect note I sing for you I wish you knew When I'm with you the words just stick inside my throat Sometime I'll take my pen in hand I'll write a song and then I'll pretend I've got a band I'll sing my song You'll sing along And we'll keep singing like we planned I'll sing the songs that others wrote I'll raise my voice and try to find that perfect note I sing for you I wish you knew When I'm with you the words just stick inside my throat

twelve december, two-thousand twelve

Kids we were, and starry-eyed - I remember staring at them - Meaning for it to last forever But forever to kids means Everlasting. Nothing lasts forever Really, except memories, Little pieces leftover from Yesterday that make us feel, Sights, sounds and scents Undulating throughout Every emotion brought back. Good memories recalled Are like good friends, Refreshing our minds, Zoetropical rings around Our unrotating center Nows, reserved star-stuff of Youth to keep our eyes bright.

thirteen december, two-thousand twelve

There is a chain around my neck It signifies I should be free To serve the master of my choice And he's the one who's chosen me I wear a cross around my neck The cross, it should be wearing me But I still hang there struggling Trying in vain the cross to flee It hangs above my beating heart And that's where it's supposed to be Because the one whose heart was pierced Put passion into saving me I must be raised upon the cross Or 'neath the tombstone broken be I wear a millstone 'round my neck Unless the cross is wearing me

fourteen december, two-thousand twelve

Do you have what you need? I probably haven't got it But if you need all that I've got it's for you If I can help any way I'm probably kind of worthless But I'll do anything and more I can do Do you need a good friend? I'm kind of introverted But I'll come out of my shell just for you Needing a shoulder to cry I am a little bony But you can lean your head on me if you're blue Do you need me to shut up? I like to hear myself talk And being silent would be something brand new Needing quiet and peace I tend to create chaos But I'll shut my mouth and be still for you

fifteen december, two-thousand twelve

Now we seek purity of spirit and flesh As we join the Mother of God in her Yea Through which her flesh was filled with Glory Incarnate God her only offspring Verily let it be for us also In this time of taking in only Those things God grows for us Yearning to produce only Christ

sixteen december, two-thousand twelve

I wish there was just nothing But all is with chaos filled I try to gather something But it's all like marbles spilled I listen for the sweet tone Of Muse to guide my pen Instead my thoughts are lone Except the noises in my den But if with me my Muse were I could now write no more And nothing yet again recur 'Til Muse go out the door

seventeen december, two-thousand twelve

You should treat me like a big boy I know that I can run my life Just let me play here with my toy And with us there'll be no strife I won't complain when things are good I'll pretend that you're not there As long as you aren't being rude Sticking your nose in everywhere But wait - I might get hungry Need protection or a ride You've got to provide for me I'm lost without a guide When I need you and you don't show I'll tell all that you don't care Or maybe what happens you don't know Probably you just aren't there I outgrew faith in you, like Santa Claus But I still like to complain Pretend that I make the laws And take none of the blame

eighteen december, two-thousand twelve

I just wanted to hear your voice So I sent you a little text And your reply was kind of terse Maybe you were a little vexed 'Cause I interrupted your SimsSocial game And you missed who you should've visited next You're one of those Facebook people Although I know you virtually exist You live in the Facebook world But you're more than just a friend on a list I want to see your face In real time and space You need to be more than virtually kissed I replied to your photo post, "Great to see you for a change" And you clicked the Like button That was our whole exchange You were busy reposting the spinning cats And memes that make the normal look strange You're one of those Facebook people Although I know you virtually exist You live in the Facebook world But you're more than just a friend on a list I want to see your face In real time and space You need to be more than virtually kissed I poke, reply, like and chat But really I just want to be where you're at You're one of those Facebook people Although I know you virtually exist You live in the Facebook world But you're more than just a friend on a list I want to see your face In real time and space You need to be more than virtually kissed

nineteen december, two-thousand twelve

I have no desire to kill myself I just wish I were dead An accident is preferable To a bullet in my head I'd rather not see it coming It should be a surprise Something I wouldn't think of 'Til it hit between the eyes Suicide may not be painful But the planning is a a pain It's the reason people called on Doc Jack Kevorkian A little prick or big gas bag Can ease the troubled mind So can the drugs that he can give If they're the lethal kind Now don't misunderstand me I'm in no big rush to die I've just given it lots of thought It's a puzzle, that's no lie Life is pain, death is release Both of them make us cry We hold them both tenaciously And both of them we try

twenty december, two-thousand twelve

The little old lady walked ahead Her little hand held out Begging from her master And receiving what she sought All she grasped for was grace As she opened her hand And dropped her last penny Freeing her hand to accept Purchasing Paradise for a penny In for a penny, in for a pound Let it all go to get it all That's how Heaven can be found The rich man gives his penny too He gives until it hurts He knows each cent by name They must be ripped from him It's not that he's a bad man Or that he hates the poor He just likes the Paradise He built for himself much more Purchasing Paradise for a penny In for a penny, in for a pound Let it all go to get it all That's how Heaven can be found The thief’s hands used to grasp for gold Now they're holding nail heads He gave his best insults Then he took them all back Instead he gave all he had left He gave his pound of flesh To the one who purchased Paradise with his offering Purchasing Paradise for a penny In for a penny, in for a pound Let it all go to get it all That's how Heaven can be found

twenty-one december, two-thousand twelve

I just want the world to stop So I can get back on If there's no room I'll sit on top And hold tight ‘til were done We'll go wobbling out through space Until there's no other place To go Round the sun we'll go And enjoy the glow When the world stops its screw And opens up the doors I want to disembark with you On those starfish filled shores We'll go strolling out through space Until there's no other place To go Round the sun we'll go And enjoy the glow When we reach the end of space And Nothing disappears All I want left is your sweet face To see for endless years We'll go drifting out through space Until there's no other place To go Round the sun we'll go And enjoy the glow

twenty-two december, two-thousand twelve

I have a memory that I do not think is mine I’m not sure where it came from or from what time I remember it first person, and I speak each line I talk to myself, and only with rhythm and rhyme I tell me that I must be always watching for a sign I am waiting to learn something about me sublime I think that my life has some intentional design I have a reason for having crawled out of the slime I wake up and I think that everything will be fine I believe that I’ve finally reached the end of my climb I lay basking in my bed in the morning sunshine I remember that it’s not my memory at all, and I’m Thine

twenty-three december, two-thousand twelve

‘Twas the Eve before Christmas Eve, and all through the Burch house Parishioners were milling, there was no room for a mouse. The tables were piled with Lenten finger food, The glasses were filled up with wine for the mood, When out by the fireplace there arose such a clatter That the Lord High Chancellor went to see what was the matter. The children who should have been snug in their coats Were coatless and grazing through sweets like small goats. The logs which were piled alongside the fire Were all in it burning, all the kids did perspire. Bruner was barking to join in the fun - The festivities had only just barely begun. The children were sent inside to start trimming, The boxes of ornaments that waited were brimming. With glee they set in and soon the tree was all trimmed, All gathered around as the room lights were dimmed. The parishioners sang carols as the lights on the tree Were lit to celebrate Christ’s nativity. Festivities ended – but just for the evening - Parishioners gathered themselves to start leaving. Father Marcus said to all before they left his sight: “Merry Christmas to all, see you tomorrow night!”

twenty-four december, two-thousand twelve

Coming suddenly out of the darkness Having nothing in hands or heart Returning from a life in exile I am blinded by the small light Shining from a cave in Judea Today I rest with all creation Moaning no more in travail As the new life of all things Sleeps in the arms of his mother

twenty-five december, two-thousand twelve

I'm feeling nostalgia for the future For memories I'd like to have someday For mental conversations rehearsed inside my head For things I’m planning to do if only But it seems I can never find a way To be with you so I recall in advance instead # Although you were there we didn’t get to talk Late arrivals and early leavings cause ephemera Dour scratchings all because I had to go

twenty-six december, two-thousand twelve

All I had to give this Christmas was me I probably should have stayed under the tree But I put myself out there And tried to show I care Now there's nothing left but wrapping and debris I made a little gift with me inside I put some things in there I try to hide I should have let my fear become my guide But at least now I can say I really tried All I had to give this Christmas was me I probably should have stayed under the tree But I put myself out there And tried to show I care Now there's nothing left but wrapping and debris Disappointment was so plain upon your face I had hoped that there would be a little grace Your reaction really put me in my place I guess I'll go away and give you back your space All I had to give this Christmas was me I probably should have stayed under the tree But I put myself out there And tried to show I care Now there's nothing left but wrapping and debris Now I'm laying torn to shreds upon the floor I should have gotten something from the store 'Cause I know that I am creepy and a bore If I had you I know I'd be a little more All I had to give this Christmas was me I probably should have stayed under the tree But I put myself out there And tried to show I care Now there's nothing left but wrapping and debris

twenty-seven december, two-thousand twelve

It is time for a blank slate To wipe out what is passed But all I have written Is sticking too fast I do not want it to last But the slate will not come clean And now I only mean To shatter it with a blast For there is nothing between What has been and what could be Except the unmovable past And an unstoppable fate On its forward careen So I hold out the obscene And hope it is not too late To once again be smitten And on that stone be cast For the past will not wait On a future not foreseen Does anything wait for me

Droplets trembling on feather-tips Always about to fall Wellsprings of vision obscured Looking through goblets of sorrow Because of the past or tomorrow Looking for trouble to borrow Waiting for evil to call Tears like rain Still in the clouds but ready to pour When the sky Is broken in two by its inner war And we cry Tears like rain Windwhips roaring through places waste Letting nothing stay Nothing growing can take root It must have the torrents of rain Beating the barren terrain Repairing the soil with pain Memories are made this way Tears like rain Still in the clouds but ready to pour When the sky Is broken in two by its inner war And we cry Tears like rain When it is time the tears will fall Washing everything they touch Will you be left when they are gone? Must they take away so much? Tears like rain Still in the clouds but ready to pour When the sky Is broken in two by its inner war And we cry Tears like rain

twenty-eight december, two-thousand twelve

"The Wanton Folly of Me Mum" by William the Bloody Blood-spots like the robin's breast Speckle the white of napkin lace Her angelic place soon to take But she must live, for Heaven's sake God gift to her - consumption I must give her life resumption But where I've gone she will not come The wanton folly of me Mum I draw her to a son's embrace Fold her safe against my chest I feel the blood pump through her heart It must stop, her life to start And like a bird I peck her neck Blood her white nightgown doth fleck Then my chest she drinks deep from The wanton folly of me Mum Now like angels on the earth We'd fly and hunt and give new birth But, alas, it would not be My demon mother hated me For Dru and mine and Heaven's sake Beloved Mum's heart did I stake To bloody Hell I sent the scum The wanton folly of me Mum

twenty-nine december, two-thousand twelve

Just a few or so short eons ago At least that’s what we assume Something amazing came into being One part Time Lord and one part Ninja, he snuck into the world Patiently sometimes he waits Although perhaps he’s elsewhere TARDISing through time and space Regenerating when necessary Improving on his previous face Covering it with even more hair Kicking at the heels of the Fates Disguised as one simply hurled At life, his whole persona is art Vagabond genius always seeing Incognito in a crowded room Showing up like a ninja Van Gogh

thirty december, two-thousand twelve

Writing is for people who like to pretend that somebody listens

Remonstrating on paper because it doesn’t mind who you are

Instead of waiting for a call or calling one who is not waiting

Trying to believe that you aren’t as blank as the unwritten page

Instead of writing I should make a paper airplane and throw it

Now that would be getting somewhere, unless it flies like I do

Going backwards before nose-diving unnoticed in the bushes

thirty-one december, two-thousand twelve

Another new year again lately dawns Newly yearning for things not done Yearning for people not seen enough And yet recalling aud lang syne Little pleasures had the passed year Only a few, never quite enough, Understanding though that every Interlude was complete in itself Sufficient for the time, without any Evil except for that it had to end Distant dimensions of time and space Although they may make the heart fonder Very much cause the same heart pain In our resolutions for the new year Some yearnings must be more often fulfilled

afterword

A hearty thanks for reading this book

No doubt something here made you go “Huh.”

You should come back next month for a look

Another set of poems will be here for ya.

Kenneth A O’Shaughnessy

kempisosha@gmail.com