Hello. It's been a while, huh? Sorry about that; I've got no excuse. I've just been out of it for a while. But a rejuvenating weekend has put me back on course. I figured I'd ease back into posting by taking advantage of Meter Monday and showcasing one of my favorite poets, the wonder of Tim Minchin.
Yes. I know. I've featured him before, and with good reason. This man is a wordsmith of true greatness. And he is funny to boot, truly talented. Not only is he a brilliant pianist and song writer, but his beat poetry is remarkable.
(Now, I feel I need to issue another disclaimer. Tim Minchin is not for the faint of heart. He likes profanity, but he uses it well. He is also not for those of the closed minded persuassion or those whose own view points bruise easily. So, you've been warned.)
Here are my favorite bits of Tim's poetry; absurdly funny, ridiculously apt, and irreverantly perfect. Ladies and gentlemen, Tim Minchin!
Ah, December, we meet again! Your cold is settling in beneath the layers of our jackets, we can smell the snow on your breath, and taste the gingerbread and wonder. Welcome back. Welcome home.
I don't mean to put a damper on the spirit, but it looks like this winter is going to be a rough one. Weather aside, we all seem to be a little low on morale. I can feel it where I work, I can feel it on the way to and from home, I can feel it when I lay down at night, and lord knows I feel it at Wal-Mart.
Then again, that might just be the general funk of the place.
But it's Christmas season, and that means we carry on. Oh sure, the pocketbooks and wallets are heavy with guilt and light on cash. Yes, the stocking won't be quite as bulging as they were last year. Yes, we'll have to steer clear of the idea that Happiness comes prepackaged and was probably assembled in China. And yes, our crazy aunt will once again spike the eggnog at the Christmas party. But there are trees to truce up and treats to decorate! There are wreathes to hang and lights to teach us patience! There's Mama's fudge and peppermint candy! There's Dad singing twisted carols slightly off key! In fallceto! There's nothing that the scent of pine can't cure! Tis the season!
It's easy to get down. The Holidays will do that to you. So to ward off the blues, huddle around some folks you cherish. Sip comfort, consume calm. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. Raise your glass, and drink white wine in the sun.
