reflections eternal.

-unF*withable.
that's what last night's full moonlight was.
there was an enormous northern lights afterglow halo around it,
like a gigantic ice-blue moon-arc smoke ring.
it didn't translate into pictures,
but i felt pretty blue moon lucky to see it.
a year's worth of memories,
orbiting that outstanding oracle,
demanding tribute,
paid in full with reminiscence.
***********
we defied the wet wood,
the cold chill,
and the not-so-neighborly next-door nancies,
in order to have a comforting huddle around our old friend:
hot fire.
after a whole week of freezing my face off indoors,
i decided to do a little reflective appreciation outdoors.
i cleared a space in the lung-snappingly sharp night air,
and let the wondrous werewolfen winter world swallow me up.
i was pretty amazed the kids decided to suffer alongside me-
but i was glad for the companionship.

while the christing vacationer folks next-door

had each and every possible lightbulb beaming in their house,
and every floodlight on around their house,
we kept it indigo glow over here.

kilowatts of weak sauce, ya'll.

what's there to be afraid of?

burglars?

i'm pretty sure the bears are sleeping,

and the trees are too.

oh man, some folks just can't hang out with woodsly goodness.
their loss.
this isn't sucktard boston,

and the darkness up here is our friend.

if you look up,

there're stars in the sky, an' that-
ah well, y'know how it goes;
more turbo hottness and winter wonders for us,
more light bright lackadaisical lincoln log lameness for them.
score yet another 'nother viking victory for warrior poetry.

i enjoyed the holy hell outta my canadian XI-mas present though.

what do you ninjas know about a montecristo numero dos?
that's one smooth cuban exhaust pipe, ninjas.
stump-fever scented the evening's burnt pine with burnt numero dos.

y'know.

i couldn't help but think on my peoples,
and how we're all far apart.

geographically, i mean.

a manly stink-stick solidarity salute was carried out,

and in so doing,
i kept 'em close and kept it real,
puffing away in stoic silence,

blowing a couple of ghost circles into the sky,
for all my duders, all over the place.
and most of all, for the cucch.
we miss that guy.
***********

this year is over, and a whole new one is ready and waiting.

moves, duders.

moves were made this year.

my first full year of responsible adulthood,

fashionably better-late-than-never at age 33.

triple-eleven was a big one for me-

good things may come to those who wait,

and patience may be it's own reward,

but i was perfectly okay with holding off just a little bit longer.

this is one of those years i don't think i can top.

seriously.

i'm just sayin',

i didn't exactly get richer or younger,

but a whole real life of worthy deeds and bold words got lived.

is there any proof?

yep:

more grey hairs, but less of 'em overall.

grown-up stuff abounded throughout all twelve months...

*i bought my super-white crackery subaru,

and jess got me the red-neckery pick'em up.

the safe commuter and the manly work vehicle.

that's grown-up like a mutha-ucka, son.

*we moved our whole world.

twice.

from the riverside woodlands,

to the temporary vacation maze/rat warren,

and finally to our very own heart-housing old busted castle,

the epic Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.

*i celebrated a decade of tattooing,

a mile-high milestone,

at an arguably all-time low point in my 'career'.

*we saw spinal tap.

c'mon.

* we got married.

i'm saying.

that's all the big adult events, and spinal tap,

that most folks consider marks of success.

do i consider myself successful?

that may be a stretch, but we still did it.

it happened.

and i'm glad it did.

i'm grateful for the year,

i'm grateful for the people that filled in the moments,

i'm grateful for the time i have been given.

2+0+0+9 = eleven.

that's right, it did;

never quiet, never soft.....