Filed under: Rhyme & Riddle, Two Cents' Worth | Tags: 2013, December, dreams, January, new year, resolution, wish
As the decadence of December unwraps its long bony fingers from my throat, I gasp – both from the release of its slow choking grip, and at the first inhalation of January’s crisp (and if I must say, jarring) bitter winds of change.
What a year it has been, and what a ride it seemed. One thing for sure, my brakes certainly weren’t working in 2012.
As the devil on my right shoulder would have it, enough of the year already. His pointed ears and arrow-tipped tail would already be dishing me my next glass of whisky and pulling me to bed to busk in his glory. For each time a person on the surface of this earth makes a new year resolution, it is the devil’s job to have them break it: a symbol of his victory.
So I’ll play the fiddle that strokes his enlarging ego, I’ll jump onto the derailed train that moves at a speed that pleases him;
I’ll whirl around the carousel of champagne, whisky and wine, while he thinks – this lady in cloud nine, ain’t she divine?
So I seize the devil by his horns, you think of me: your puppet, and you: my master of indulgence – right and wrong;
I laugh the devil’s laugh as I ride into the sun, his cries of anguish and frustration rise a note with each gallop and bound;
I tease him with his pitch fork as I would tantalize my lover with charm, not the devil’s, not the devil’s charm;
I let the devil sit on my shoulder, if he whispers, I listen, alas my attention long gone.
I clutch at my throat, feeling the indents of December’s cold grip. January comes billowing in like Santa’s sleigh up my driveway, with its promises and hopes that the year could bring. Surely, spring would warm my soul and ease away those tendrils of pain. Then summer could set ablaze dreams to plans, turning amber to flames – of fulfillment that tastes so sweet.
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