Halloween has never been my cup of tea, but two side's to the coin weather it trick or treat but I did enjoyed the read, sweet or sour it does make you wonder how we came with this day.
Thank you for sharing.
Smiling at the thought of right/left flavored candies, but know damned good and well that as far divided as we are that some people really do divide everything up into "like us" or forbidden. Nice work. ~Jim
It would be nice. I can think of one person who did exactly this and was killed for it. Politics polarize. Perhaps poetry could help build a spirit of community. Lord knows, we have enough feelings for a thousand candy bar exchanges! No pumpkins, though. The smell of raw pumpkin makes me expel the contents of my stomach.
Posted 2 Months Ago
2 Months Ago
Glad you just read my words and didn't have to smell them...Thanks for your words, Zoe.
j.
If only life could be as easy as receiving candy bars and trading them on Halloween. Politics has infiltrated every part of our lives. It seems everyone is angry. Friendships have been torn apart because of different views. As always, you find a unique way to be a mirror on our times. Lydi**
Posted 2 Months Ago
2 Months Ago
Thank you for your kind review, Lydi.
I would never trade a friendship because of a political.. read moreThank you for your kind review, Lydi.
I would never trade a friendship because of a political view and I can't understand people who let that happen.
I appreciate you.
j.
Ah, "Sweets." A profound rumination on the existential dread of flavored glucose and the geopolitical implications of a fun-size Snickers.
This isn't just a poem; it's a terrifyingly accurate documentary about the secret life of vegetable effluvia. The image of "pumpkins drip seeds / tears of pulp" is a brilliant, albeit messy, way of saying, "The gourd is crying." Why is it crying? Because it knows that even its own children; the seeds are doomed to become snacks, much like the children of this poem, who are merely vessels for political candy.
The real genius here is the revelation that Halloween costumes are no longer about being spooky; they're about political confectionery. Imagine: a "Ghosted Liberal" costume that tastes vaguely of kombucha and social anxiety, or a "Vampirical Conservative" candy bar that’s all nougat and deregulation. The kids are innocently trick-or-treating, yet their parents have weaponized the fun-size bag! It’s less "trick or treat" and more "ideology or indigestion."
The most startling piece of insight is that the parents are leading by example.
The true core of the conflict isn't in Washington D.C.; it's on Mrs. Henderson's porch, where a five-year-old Darth Vader is refusing to accept a toffee from a parent dressed as "Austerity."
The jack-o'-lanterns, those stoic observers, are the real Greek chorus. They don't just frown; they frown "through the tears / and the seeds" at the simple solution: "a trade / of candy bars."
The poem argues that all the weighty issues of the world could be solved if only everyone would stop overthinking it and simply exchange chocolate. The path to global peace is paved not with gold, but with the harmonious swapping of peanut butter cups for gummy worms.
The whole thing makes perfect, glorious, and completely unhinged sense. It's a plea for caloric diplomacy, where the only "sound example" is an unwrapped treat.
If only it were that simple j. It would appear that the scariest costume these days is the one of "terrorist"
but then I believe there was a group that turned a tea party into a country.
One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter and the streets of the world fill with supporters who fear to show their faces.
Halloween was much kinder when w dressed as hoboes and wandered the streets with pillowcases
Halloween should be neutral. No place for prejudice and yet it is everywhere around us, daily. Surely Halloween hasn’t been influenced by politics? If it has, there’s nothing sweet about that. It’s turned it sour. A very topical poem in the current political climate. I like the visuals of pumpkins crying tears of pulp j. No wonder the Jack o lanterns are frowning.
Originally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at a community college and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. I am here to read for inspiration from other po.. more..