Dear Santa, please save Christmas

Dear Santa,
it has been far too long,
not that I didn't want,
I've been belief vacant.

This Christmas I need of you
I fear that we all do, to
save it with a miracle!

My wish is,
as I light this candle,
lightning the feather,
to write you this letter...

"For the word carefully meant
to find its dirt path unbent
straight as only an arrow."

Let the snow,
wash down the raw red stain
of shards between blood
as we join hands for a meal.

Let the lights,
flickering from pine trees
brighten the colors
in our reserved deep eyes.

Let the choir,
guide the tortuous paths
in each others brains
that lead to steep crater.

Let the turkey,
in herbs and juices for days,
carved into silver trays,
sing of our belonging.

Let the crackle,
fire up our sleepy beat
that burned in within
on every other year.

This Christmas, white beard Santa,
heal this countries family
and bring a kind sight our way.

I'm quantic

An undefined ever evolving

combination of possibilities, 

defined by a potential in all

the thinkable parameters. 

I'm a daughter, a mother, 

I'm a lover, a fighter

shower opera singer,

a myope finger painter, 

dyslexic of a writer, 

and so much more tomorrow. 

But when you measure me

then I cease to exist

become but the number

you collect into stats.

(Inspired on "Bitch" from Meredith Brooks)

Sounding Silence

"punts tunts tunts tunts"
I turn the key
with a short "click"...
and I go "humph".

Cross my arms into a ring
over the one in leather
my forehead to land over
as I let the silence sing.

I could see her hair float
over her eyes, her nose
in his wet blue eyes boat
as an ethereal ghost.

The dancing of these strings
painted by whispered breeze
the slowing expansion
of an eternal moment.

That he held ever tight
anchored in his deep voice.
Then "punts tunts tunts"
the drawing shattered broken.

Why take simple beauty
and add and add and add
into such obscurity?
Blown this caressing woo
into a summer hit.