Chunk, The Chocolate King

**********

He’s not hollow,
He cannot melt,
He can hop like a jackrabbit,
Though he’s got no flesh or bone or pelt.

**********

Oh what a hand he was dealt,
The very first chocolate rabbit,
That one-hundred-thirty-five he is now,
Is not even felt.

Created on a whim,
In an old store-room,
He was a sight to behold,
And caused a new tradition to unfold.

When his campaign was done,
The evening of Easter, 1890,
As soon as the store was locked,
Away he hopped.

That chunk of chocolate,
Ran off like a rocket,
Before he could be melted or dumped,
And it so happens he ran through,
A patch of magic dust,
Blowing by on a gust.

And never was he ever,
Heard from again,
That is,
Not by men.

But when little bunnies say their prayers,
He is the angel,
God sends that way,
And gladly he watches over,
The little dears.

He is ever so big,
And lives in his own,
Hidden grove of figs,
Far from humans,
And their modern rigs.

There’s a hollow in a hill,
Under tree number four,
Covered with a green trap-door.

Carpeted steps lead down,
To a hardwood floor,
In a giant room,
Fitted just for him.

When he first ran away,
From that window front,
In P.A.,
This is where,
He chose to settle,
Hoping no one would find him,
And see fit to meddle.

What’s he been up to,
The last how many years?
Well he calms the fears,
That reach his ears,
From the above dears.

Then makes millions,
Of mini-mes,
In his factory,
Across the street,
Under tree number three,
Which he distributes to stores,
Shopped in by people,
Like you and me.

His brand is exceptionally fine,
And bought to be indulged in,
With fine whiskey or wine,
Oh! Look at the time!
Go and get you one,
Before it’s time to dine!

His life-size bunny plushies,
So many try,
To make their products as perfect,
But theirs all lack,
When compared to the ones made,
By this aristocrat.

**********

Only once,
Did someone think,
He was to eat,
When he was lounging under,
Tree number one,
To get some fresh air,
While avoiding the sun.

But they broke a tooth,
And on him,
Not a mark was left,
So they were forced to flee,
Without a chance,
Of committing the theft.

**********

(I Couldn’t Have) ……….But He Could And He Did

If it were me,
I would have fled,
Before a single,
Drop was shed.

The power was there,
To disappear,
But that guy doesn’t get scared,
So it didn’t take long,
Before he was,
Beyond repair.

If it were me,
None of us would be free,
No way would I,
Have born such misery.

Dripping blood,
And crunching bones,
Torn up flesh,
By whips and stones,
Degrading and shaming,
In inhumane tones.

If it were me,
I’d have run back home,
And left the world,
To die without,
A chance to atone.

**********

So He was dead,
And had a tomb,
Instead of a bed,
Some people cried,
When he died,
Then almost had,
A heart attack,
When He shocked them all,
By coming back.

A super-sized stone,
Was rolled away,
‘Til again He saw,
The light of day,
And with that for us,
All debts accrued,
By sin got paid.

Your Salvation

It doesn’t follow fashion,
Or change with the times,
A piece that can be paired,
With this or that,
To even satisfy,
A spoiled brat.

Beauty that cannot be broken,
Such a precious token,
Something to be treasured always,
At which you can,
Repeatedly gaze.

Ageless really,
Without a shadow of a doubt,
Never wearing out,
Not ruined by,
Passage of time,
Going on and on forever,
And stopping never.

Lovely then,
And lovelier now,
Truly deserving,
Of a bow.
A real classic,
Sometimes rustic,
And sometimes fancy,
But forever fantastic.

It’s magnificence,
Will never cease,
Love for it,
Will not decrease,
From great-great-grandma,
To great-great-neice.

Eternally sought after,
More so than love or money,
With it even salty situations,
Seem a little sunny.

Timeless,
It’s essential,
You wouldn’t trade it for the world,
It will always have potential,
There’ll never be a need,
To throw it away,
Even when,
You’ve become old and grey.

Old Fashioned Winter Wonderland

The iridescent sparkles,
Shining off an icicle,
Light the path,
Of snow white,
And it makes a feeling,
Like all is right.

The path is deepening,
As the sleigh glides over it,
Here and there a street light,
Illuminates the falling snow,
As the horses go,
Down every road.

Bells ringing,
And properties lit up,
Like Santa’s North Pole,
There’s a soft wind now too,
As a left turn takes us,
Over a large knoll,
Where at the top,
We stop to admire,
The heart of town.

We can see,
For miles around,
All throughout,
Our marvelous little town,
Enough snow now coming down,
That maybe it will soon drown.

Everywhere is decorated,
For the coming of Christmas,
Light poles wrapped with garland,
To remind us of the tidings,
Of that old day long awaited.

Delightful lights,
Hang in every window,
For they’re all in competition,
Of who can be most glamorous,
From where we are up here,
It looks as though the beautician,
And the store promoting nutrition,
Are the ones worth voting on this year.

Be that as it may,
Every single building together,
Forms quite the picture,
The white light display to the north,
Has intertwined so many,
Sparkling red stockings,
And the reindeer springing forth,
From the center of the skating rink,
That’s surrounded by big sleigh bells,
Has the whole town talking.

As we descend,
From the hill,
We round a bend,
Headed to the town’s center,
To a celebration going on,
Looking forward to steaming cups with cocoa,
Each topped with lots of marshmallow.

There will be cookies covered with icing,
In the shape of Santa Claus,
And giant snowmen built by families,
Vying for a present and applause.

An organist is there,
Leading some in singing carols,
And while they’re doing that,
Others lie down to make angels.

Such an unforgettable gathering,
At the prettiest time of year,
And as the clock strikes midnight,
All gather ’round,
The town’s tallest tree,
It’s been bedecked with bows,
And little lights that twinkle,
Garland, balls, and bells,
Complete the evergreen,
And we all go home with gifts,
Fit for kings and queens.

Doesn’t Really Get More Real Than This……….

🔥🔥🔥❣️❣️❣️Jesus and John in the same room!!! What an honor to be in their presence this past weekend!!!❣️❣️❣️🔥🔥🔥

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No Help For It

It’s my favorite,
And I don’t want to get over it,
Though it seems the worst choice to make,
It’s my favorite,
And I don’t want to let go of it.

I’ll confess it doesn’t seem,
Like a prime pick,
And why just any won’t due,
I’ve no clue,
But this one for some reason,
I think would fit like,
A perfectly-broken-in shoe.

As they’re pretty much alike,
That one should be able to,
Just take a hike,
But it’s like I’d like to connect a cable,
Because when I’ve got it around,
I feel slightly more stable.

Such a terrible old thing,
And gives an awful sting,
When it lashes out like lightning,
But still I find,
It makes my life exciting.

Maybe it’s just an addiction,
If so,
That’s one super strong poison,
Even so,
Bring me a big cup,
And I’ll drink it right up.

It deserves a good kick,
But still,
I hope it stands unmoved,
When it gets this reprove,
Since when it’s around,
My life feels improved.

I bet it’s bad to be around,
It’s always pulsing out vicious vibes,
Like an agressive animal,
It may as well bare teeth,
And lunge at feet.

There’s a simultaneous urge,
To push it away,
And pull it closer,
The emotions that surge,
My mind is like a rollercoaster,
Whether from me it’s near or far.

The sight of it,
Has my stomach in knots,
I’m wishing it would just get lost,
But then I’m loving it.

Persistent as a tooth gone rotten,
It just will not be forgotten,
This sunshine might be lost,
But I’ll seek it out,
At any cost.

Ramifications Of Remaining Silent

First impressions,
Aren’t always right,
I’ve found sweet expressions,
Sometimes hide unsaid confessions,
Someone you think,
Will be a love,
You may have to tell,
To go fly a kite,
Though with an old enemy,
You may eventually,
End up friendly,
Sharing a similar destiny.

We’ve all got things,
We keep hush-hush,
Just remember though,
They’re not all,
Little innocent secrets,
Once we know,
They can deal quite the blow.

Meeting others,
For the very first time,
Lately I’ve learned,
To keep this in mind.

It used to be fun,
Getting to know new someones,
But recently I’ve had to realize,
Enough is enough,
Better to criticize,
Than have wool once again,
Pulled over my eyes.

You think you know,
All there is to know,
About that hoe,
And her friend Joe,
About your beau,
And your long-time foe,
But this so-called knowledge,
Is likely laced with lies,
Just half-truths,
The rest of which,
You’ve chosen to blind your eyes.

Knowing everyone’s complete history,
What they may have done,
And how they actually feel,
It would change both your stories,
And neither of you will ever know,
If it would cause the other,
To become cheery or sorry.

A silver lining……….
Not all untold thoughts,
Are ones that bring things,
Such as shame or strife,
Some if you were to find out,
Would probably change for the better,
Your whole way or walk of life.

For sure,
If more people,
Would become less paranoid,
And make their thoughts speakable,
Rather than keep them classified,
It’s possible we’d attract more like minds,
And with one another,
Become overjoyed,
Rather than always being annoyed.

Godsend

A flood of peace,
Swept through my soul,
It temporarily patched the hole,
And made me feel,
Almost whole.

I was able to sleep,
More than a wink,
Like I hadn’t,
In almost a week.

**********

But let’s back up,
To when thunder struck,
And every imaginable,
Type of hurt,
Made me wish I was under,
Six feet of dirt.

There were hot spots and cold fronts,
But I must be a dunce,
For I held out hope,
That this time I may be taken,
As more than a joke.

The hot spots did not last long,
They were like maybe just the first bar,
And the cold fronts were endured,
As long as the rest of the song went on.

**********

So back now to present time,
I could not think,
There was every negative emotion,
Swirling through my head,
Like a storm out in the ocean.

I tried to calm down,
But as no definitive dreams came,
My mind continued to drown,
Then I remembered a trick,
That can solve any problem,
And the only thing needed,
Is a certain book about two inches thick.

Without a doubt,
It was time for supernatural help,
Answers weren’t coming on their own,
I’d have to conjure them alone.

So out came the giant purple volume,
And I closed my eyes,
To ask about the burden,
Eating me up inside.

I call this my magic eight ball,
And it always answers when I call,
My hands were guided to the exact needed excerpt,
And I was prompted to pay attention most especially,
To the one numbered as twenty.

Oh I don’t know why I was even surprised,
The response was just what I had surmised,
And that night I was able to close my eyes,
And sleep for the first time in ages,
Soundly until the time came to rise.

**********

Now if the patch can hold,
Until the conclusion,
At what’s bound to be,
One hell of a reunion……….

The Most Difficult Easy Task In The World

Sort of like the color blue,
He’s acting bold,
Kind of like navy,
Then another day,
I’d describe him as more pastel,
Listless and boring,
With nothing to say.

Snow ,
Whether slushy or fluffy,
Can be compared to her,
She’s much the same,
As the color white,
Because like that,
No matter what’s going down,
Be its consistency boring, annoying, cold, or stuffy,
Her color’s hues barely vary.

One changes face,
To fit the situation,
Everyone is a fan,
Because he always fits,
As the ideal man.

The other is the same,
One hundred percent of the time,
Always speaking her mind,
Fake is not her kind,
She cannot do it,
No matter who would approve it.

Apart anger boils,
And progress spoils,
Then when face to face,
All seems to get erased,
Brains go blank,
The only thing in mind,
Is this attraction they chase.

He feels unworthy,
Of her beauty,
Uncool and past his prime,
And that she may just want,
To bleed him out of,
His last dime.

She feels unaccomplished,
Almost stupid,
Next to him,
He’s so educated and polished,
It leaves her,
Speechless and astonished.

Each day this is left unchecked,
One or both is vexed,
Please guys,
Just meet in the middle,
Once and for all,
Resolve this riddle.

Old Hat

I’m sitting here wondering why,

People put an expiration date,

On something not brand new,

How is it not still great?

And not still worth its weight in gold?

Do you have an answer?

Or will your mouth just continue to hammer?

At what age does this classic,

Become trash to fill a sack?

Is it actually,

Without a doubt,

Truly fucking worn out?

Or might you be kind of close-minded,

Just following the twisted thinking,

Of your fellow mankind?

Antique to me means much,

Not out dated at all,

And as such,

I’ll keep a hold on it,

Because an original,

Versus a copycat,

Why the fuck,

Would I give up that?

Old fashioned,

Isn’t necessarily behind the times,

No need to pawn it off for cash,

Anyway,

When did gaining another year become a crime?

An heirloom, a treasure, a relic,

Not ancient or creaky or clunky,

It shouldn’t be cast as an outcast,

To a pile of unacceptable junk,

But be a collector’s item,

To be recycled,

To brighten your days,

And to remind you of the good old ways.