Section C In December 2016's ' A Showcase For P H Poets...[ Up To 15 Poems From P H Friends; Expanding Horizons For P H Members & Visitors! ; Different Poems For Different Tastes] Poem by Bri Edwards

Section B this month is only half full; it's true,
BUT I've got some for C and LOTS more to ….do.
I've got to dig in my drawer and take out a big sock ….
to hang for Santa-goodies! Don't you, me, mock.

Yes, it's that time of year once more for new toys,
to replace last year's [broken by the girls and boys …
who have the advantages (?) many others do lack,
among which is getting stuff from Santa's BIG sack].

This year at the top of my 'I Want List' is a lifelike doll ….,
in the guise of a ‘younger' Mrs.Trump. At it I'll growl,
and slobber, and I just CAN'T admit all the nasty rest.
I hope I meet 'her' expectations. I hope I pass the test.

'OH, Bri! ! ', some of you readers may now be exclaiming,
but I didn't ASK to be born an American male; don't be blaming ….
ME! ! !
Besides, no one 'under 13' dares to lie to be on this PH site.
And if they DO, don't blame me, ‘cause THEY aren't right! !


============================================================

Some information for Contributors AND Readers of the showcases:

Each Section (A, B, and maybe C) will hold 15 poems, maximum. EACH Section will accept ONE poem per poet, any length, any topic, any style, BUT I, Bri, will decide which poems are used. Unless a poet has arranged for me to ‘help myself', I shall wait for poems to be offered by the authors, all of whom ALWAYS will receive recognition for THEIR words.

The poems need NOT be new, need NOT be on PH already, and need NOT be in English [BUT English translations of non-English poems will be appreciated! ].

PLEASE PROOFREAD your poems! :)

================================== ====================

The POETS (and titles) , up to 15, listed chronologically (more or less) in the order I received them:

[ I have moved poets 1-4 down to slots 2-5 in order to accommodate a long, probably-distasteful-to-SOME-readers poem
by Is It Poetry. This allows readers to more easily avoid reading the VERY LONG and possibly-distressing poem.
I have also posted a warning about its content, SO...'you' have been warned! bri :) ]

1 - Is It Poetry

🍴🍴 The Butcher 🍴🍴 The Conclusion

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
2 - John Westlake

538. If You Saw Me Under The Mistletoe

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
3 - Paul (aka Andy) Brookes

I'm Going To Sue Santa

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
4 - Della Perry

Ludlow's Busking Twins

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
5 - Clarence Prince

Toddy Bright Day!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
6 - Long Tooth

Hospital Stay

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
7 - by Bri Edwards

Balloon Wishes....... [ Littering; Consumer Consequences; Me]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
8 - Lynn W. Petty

You Ask?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
9 - Bharati Nayak

Merry Christmas

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
10 -? ?


ETC. (up to 15)
========================================================

THE POEMS (and their authors) , up to 15 (usually) , listed in REVERSE ORDER of when I received them.

[SOMETHING 'NEW' FROM BRI: 'if you like a poem here, please consider letting the poet know it. i get no reward for you doing that, and....maybe you will not either, .....except for knowing you may have brightened some poet's day! i sometimes receive comments on the showcase and particular poems, but that does not mean the POETS see the comments.'

bri :) ]

==========================================================

ETC. (up to 15)



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
9 - by Bharati Nayak


Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas my friends
My friends in Italy and France
Friends in America and England
Friends in India, Russia, China and Iran
Friends in Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and Pakistan
Friends in East and West
Friends in North and South
Merry Christmas Fabrizio
Merry Christmas Daniel
Merry Christmas Pamela
Merry Christmas Sophy Chen
Merry Christmas
.Valsa, Savita, Kirti, Rajnis, Jess, Bri and Edward
Merry Christmas
Tony, Queeny, Sayeed, Denis and Siddarth
At this moment I feel we are one
Bounded by one gold chain
Let our joint hands
Plant a Christmas tree of Love
And build a house of Hope
Decorate it with stars of kindness
Light candles of beautiful smiles
Let our World be full of bliss
Wish you friends with all my heart
A very very Happy Christmas.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Bri's Note:
Somehow this poem did not get into this Dec. C showcase in December. It is now January 16th! sorry. i shall also put it into Jan. B showcase in 2017.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
8 - by Lynn W. Petty


You Ask?

You ask how deep does my love lie for you.
There is no human measurement to test.
An inch, a foot, a yard, a mile? It grew
To depths, to heights, too vast to be assessed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
7 - by Bri Edwards


Balloon Wishes....... [ Littering; Consumer Consequences; Me]

I'm not a fan of celebrating, at least not with throw-away things.
And about all I like to see flying in the air...... are animals with wings.
So I was not impressed when the neighbor tied balloons all along the fence.
She even tied one where a nearby thorn bush broke it; did she have no sense?

Adults and little kids gathered in her back yard, complete with kiddie pool,
and, being a good neighbor, I did not complain. I'm really not a fool.
But, near the party's end, I noticed balloons flying through the air,
and they did not escape by accident, but on purpose, I do swear.

Well, I guess I should say they were released, and I watched them sail away,
up towards the tall tree tops. I thought some might land in trees and stay.
But they all managed to keep flying, and I heard the neighbor say
'Make a wish' each time a balloon took flight.... on that sunny day.

I watched the balloons with fascination, each with a ribbon tail,
and it kind of WAS attractive as toward the 'wild blue yonder' they did sail.
BUT, Hell, I think it's BAD when balloons end up in landfill piles,
AND I think it's worse to litter who-knows-what, who-knows-where, even though
they brought some smiles.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[And now I've added, years later, at Tomas Prato's suggestion:
'Comment: Yes, one more stanza about the neighbor lady who put up all those balloons and caused so much litter somewhere someplace. She deserves a bit of Bri-mockery.']:

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The party was over, and all the party balloons were dispersed,
SO, upset as I was, I approached my neighbor and loudly cursed:
'God Damn! How dare you promote environmental degradation! ',
to which she turned her back and mooned me. No exaggeration!

[nice ass though. :) ]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
6 - by Long Tooth


Hospital Stay

Temporary housing for the quick and the dead,
Lucky ones get to leave on occasion
But nothing is certain and medicine an art.
Life's a vacation from hospital beds,
The one you are born in,
The ones that catch you off guard,
The one you will likely die in as well.
Happiness is always a carnival ride,
And though you are caught up in the novelty,
It doesn't last and is seldom free,
No matter how short it seems.

Cleanliness to ward off the evil spirits?
Now there's a joke we all can love!
The most protected of children
Can be among the first to die!
Mothers! Let you kids eat dirt!
Germs that don't kill might save their life!
Toughness isn't always taught.
Nature's House rules are not always kind,
She usually has the winning hand
And sometimes hides cards up her sleeve.

Still life's the only game we know
Whatever cards we may be dealt.
When you argue for the soul,
You just piss against the wind...
And yet, without a true creator God,
(And a loving one at that) ,
Is there really meaning to be found?
What hope has Love in love?

(December 14,2016)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
5 - by Clarence Prince [Canada]


Toddy Bright Day!

The story of little Toddy Bright Day
As children, he says, we love to play

Then hide and seek, shall be the game
No slipping and sliding to make us lame

May be in the corn-field or into the hay
Unless at grand-ma's while there we stay

Or else, like in the park, if there we stray
Says Toddy Bright Day to little Johnny Clay

Talking and laughing, trotting along the way
Suddenly comes the rain, spoiling the day

Around they've turned to go back home
In case, on the way, sun hides its face

They feared, of not finding the place
Not a good day, for Toddy and Johnny

The rain's washing out their day to play
No hiding and seeking says the rain today

Plus lightning and thundering, it rained
That's the story of Toddy Bright Day


(All rights reserved)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Poet's Notes:
In response to Children's Book Day, for 2nd April, come alive these few lines!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
4 - by Della Perry


Ludlow's Busking Twins

Costa coffee, cup larger than the table
Steam rising into the warmth of the day
Pleasant chatter, narrow lanes of old
Blue plaques on terrace walls
Historical town, stone, wooden beams
Mingled with charity shops, boutiques, easy-
going little place, castle walls, friendly faces.
Artist's palace, poets dream, quaint and serene
Relaxed to the whimsical
Busking twins, played up-to-date tunes
Like the Beat poets, did their own thing
A young holidaymaker sat on his suitcase
Lit up a cigarette
Listened for a while
Clapping at the end.
Few people dropped coins
into a red butter tub
A beautiful pointer sat by its owner's feet
The pint of coffee made me want to pee
So I walked on by, dropped in fifty p.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Bri's note: i assume 'fifty p.' stands for a small U.K. coin, fifty pence, NOT pee! ! ! but if the coffee was larger than the table, maybe she means 50 ml. of peeeee. yikes!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
3 - by Paul (aka Andy) Brookes


I'm Going To Sue Santa

I'm going to sue Santa, make him pay his debt
For all the gifts not left, my teddy and train set.
Each year I sent a letter, hoping he'd reply
But all the things he promised, were sadly just a lie.

Yes I'm going to sue Santa, for me he's in disgrace
After what he's done to me, how can he show his face.
This admonition Santa, is just a warning shot
Oh yes dear old Santa, I'm suing for the lot.

Sure going to sue Santa, I'm going to have him shamed
For all the joy I am missing, for it's he who is to blame.
It's not that I'm vindictive, it's not that I'm unfair,
But he's let me down for years, left me in midair.

I'm going to sue Santa, really make him pay.
Impound all his reindeer, take away his sleigh.
I've sent off all the papers, sent them all first class,
With any luck they'll reach him, just before Christmas.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

2 - by John Westlake


538. If You Saw Me Under The Mistletoe

What would you do if you saw me at the Christmas party
standing alone under the mistletoe
seemingly lost in my thoughts
with a half full drink in my right hand

Would you seek to ignore me like I am not there
not giving a second glance in my direction
running out of the room so as not to meet my eyes
muttering excuses to all around

Would you pluck up the courage to come over and talk
despite being aware what is above my head
knowing that people would expect us to share a kiss
even if it meant nothing to either of us

I just want to know in advance
so I won't be disappointed by how you react
if our eyes should meet at the Christmas party
and I'm standing alone under the mistletoe

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
****** Bri's WARNING! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! THE following poem is a DETAILED/some-would-say-GROSS! account of how one human procured and processed HUMAN FLESH to be ready to cook for him to eat. : [i suggest you not start this right before, during, or after a meal. maybe not anywhere in between meals! ! but i 'enjoyed' it.] it is well-written.******

1 - by Is It Poetry


🍴🍴 The Butcher 🍴🍴 The Conclusion

This is a story from one inmate who described some of his
crimes and is still alive.

Here you do not choose the meal, here you are prepared
to be the meal.
After being captured, health and diet play a very
important role.

The meat of each person is of varying quality,
and people are also subject to an enormous range of diseases, infections, chemical imbalances,
and poisonous bad habits, all typically increasing with age.

As with cattle
a certain amount of fat is desirable as 'marbling' to add a juicy, flavorful quality to the meat.
He personally preferred a young firm Caucasian female,
in their early twenties.

These as he described were 'ripe'.
Stating that tastes vary, and if pregnant he would also use
the milk obtained from a milking cow vacuum machine.
Used in his morning coffee.

Referring to himself as the butcher,
he needed a fairly large roomy space in which to work (an interior location by another suggested) , whom he said has long since
died in prison.
While needing a large table as a butcher's block.

Most work is up close and personal and Most of the work
can be done with a few simple tools: sharp, clean short and long
bladed knives, a cleaver or hatchet, and a hacksaw.

Acquiring your victim is subject to each victim's personal
attributes.
For best results and health, freshness is imperative.
A living female in captivity is optimal, but not always possible.

When possible make sure she has no food for the first 48 hours,
but plenty of water.
Fasting helps to flush the system, purging it of stored toxins
and bodily fluids and waste,
as well as making bleeding and cleaning easier.

Under ideal conditions, the female will be stunned becoming
unconscious.
A sharp unexpected blow at the base of the head he said,
works best.
Avoid any undue excitement (which will pump a greater volume of blood and secretions such as adrenaline throughout the body) .

Hanging, once she is unconscious or dead, she is ready to be hoisted.
Get the feet up first, then the hands, with the head down.
A simple loop of rope or bailing wire may be tied around the hands
and feet
and then attached to a foldable crossbar or overhead beam.
Or, by making a cut behind her Achilles tendon,
a meat hook may be inserted into each ankle for hanging support.

The legs should be spread so that the feet are outside
the ark of shoulders,
with her arms roughly parallel to the legs.

This provides access to the inner pelvis, and keeps the arms
out of the way in a more easily ready position for removal.
She is at her easiest to work on if the feet are slightly above
the butcher's head.

Bleeding her out,
a large open tub or bucket beneath her head.
With a razor sharp boning knife,
start at one corner of the jaw and make a deep 'ear-to-ear' cut
through her smile, starting at the neck and larynx.

As if having sex, side to side.
This will sever the internal and external carotid arteries,
and major blood vessels.

Carrying blood from,
the heart to the head, white face, and small brain.

He states that after all she was easy to catch!

Upside down correctly done, is right side up, until it all
comes, gushing out.
After the initial gush of blood, the river should run into a
small stream.

By massaging the extremities down in the direction of her Loin's,
and by compressing both her holes,
should release and relax the anus enough, allowing the release
of her last unspent gas.
Holding a lighter to the flame until it goes out.

I briefly interrupted him by asking, had he as a child ever
started fires or tortured animals?
I ask him this because,
History is replete with serial killers, whose violent tendencies
were first directed at animals.

But I digress,
He now makes mention that to completely render the human
carcass down to manageable chunks of meat requires a fairly large
amount of time, effort, and space.
When and if he choose to not go through the ordeal of processing
and storing the bulk of the entire body, an easy alternative
would be, he would follow.

Simply saw through one or both legs at the points
directly below the groin and a few inches above the knee.
Once skinned, these portions
may then be cut into round steaks to be, the carver's preferred thickness, cut into fillets, debone for a roast, etc.

Meat for several meals is now readily available, without the need
for evisceration and the time needed to prepare the entire body.

Her top quarter,
trim away the neck, or leave it connected to her shoulder, or chuck.
To remove the shoulder blade and the collar bone, is to just cut along the outline
of her shoulder blade, removing the meat on top and then dislocating the large bone.
In removing her collar bone make an incision along its length and then cut and
pry it away.

About her breasts, they could qualify as briskets and there is a need to remove
them before cutting away her ribs.
This individual has chosen to fondle and message them before he disposed of them.
Her breasts were composed largely of glands and fatty tissue,
and despite their appetising and sexual appearance they are primarily inedible.

Her ribs are the choice cut.
Indicating to me his perennial favorite for barbecuing, he would divide them into sections of several ribs each and cook them as you would as if they were pork or beef.
He said that he would divide them and strip them in half for shorter ribs, or even carve her ribs into steaks if the muscle mass was sufficient.

Her lower quarters,
where most of the meat is, she being an upright animal.
Except when in bed on all fours.
On this particular female, her muscle mass as is typical with most, American women
is the largest in the legs and ass.

Her ass is so large that you can do just about anything with it.
The main pieces of her ass or rump is attached to the upper leg, her thigh.
His typical division was to cut the leg off at the bottom of her ass,
then slowly chip away
at the bony mass at her knees, the knife without much effort is rolled left and right,
two to three inches, in opposite directions.

However, you may want to remove her whole calf muscle from the back of the lower leg,
as this is the best cut he often sought, in its area.
Her upper leg is now ready for anything, most especially some beautiful, thick round steaks.
Her ass however,
will have to be carved from the pelvis starting at the (Y) in a rather triangular piece.

Her legs attached at the hip, should point forward on what's left of her body,
so there will be little interference as he carves along the curve of her pelvis.
Any of her remaining meat should be on her thighs, in front of her snapping turtle.

Basically that's it.
His average sized freezer, provided plenty of room and space, to hold her.
He built, a simple old-fashioned smokehouse (in the form of an outhouse, with a stone firepit instead of a shitter) .
He discussed disposing of her waste trimmings, in a number of ways,
burial, feed them to the hogs, or grinding into sausage.

Her bones will dry in the sun and become fairly brittle or may be baked in an oven,
and can be pulverized into dust and scattered in the wind.


The End

Her name he later told me was Karen

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
more Bri's notes:

I did a bit of editing for typos etc. but Is It Poetry
has, i believe, given me carte blanche in the past to do so.

=====================================================


Thanks for joining us in Section C for December 2016!

Bri :)