2021 · Poems · Poemvember 2021

“O Toddler Tree, O Toddler Tree”

“Pine Barren” ©️C.P. Hickey 2021

O Toddler Tree, O Toddler Tree”

O Toddler Tree, O Toddler Tree

How barren are thy branches?

O Toddler Tree, O Toddler Tree

How barren are thy branches?

Your boughs once full of ornaments,

Become vacant when they’re present.

O Tantrum Tree, O Christmas Tree

How barren are thy branches?

O Toddler Tree, O Toddler Tree

How barren are thy branches?

O Toddler Tree, O Toddler Tree

How barren are thy branches?

We put the best up out of reach

I missed a step and strained my knee

O Tantrum Tree, O Toddler Tree

Small hands destroy our efforts

Poems · Poemvember 2021

“Tending Toward Rational in an Irrational World, Quite Irrationally”

“Light My Fire” ©️ C.P. Hickey 2021

“Tending Toward Rational in an Irrational World, Quite Irrationally”

One day when I wasn’t paying attention things changed.

With little or no explanation, a large group of people decided to embrace a crisis of chaos.

Like a bystander lighting a wooden match and watching it exhaust itself.

Then another, and yet, still another.

Never noticing how close to the gasoline they were, or how even a used up match could still ignite a conflagration.

Never a consequence conceived within the action, but an automaton bent on all the ill innate of the turmoil caused by the certainty that only paranoia can provide.

Juicy secrets rolled around in a dark perspective and seemingly rational, just for a moment.

Then, though, the fear derived of being discovered for pandering to such nonsense.

Stranded in a painted corner, with one’s hand gripping tightly to the wet brush.

Nowhere to go.

Just waiting for the paint to dry, so then an escape can be made to the next hurtful idea.

One day when I wasn’t paying attention things changed.

The rational world fell prey to narcissists that refused to admit the hideous nature of their reflection.

And the world has never recovered.

Was it supposed to?

Didn’t I kind of know it wouldn’t, though?

That seems crazy to me.

As if, as it, as if it could make any sense.

Sometimes relieving the tension by making a choice is the wrong choice.

That tension might be all that’s holding this fragile world together.

2021 · Poems · Poemvember 2021

“Blind Justice”

“Blessed” ©️C.P. Hickey 2021

“Blind Justice”

I travel through backstreet alleys,

and by the voided front stoops of those that gave up.

I travel in the quiet space between time,

which can only be heard when it’s snowing.

I dally, in the mere moments before a summer’s pre-dawn emergence, when newspapers used to be delivered.

I am Justice.

I am that which puts right.

I fold out into a ledger of misdeeds and heroic dramatics.


Faith and disbelief aid and abet my purpose.

The time line I walk is excruciatingly painful.

I persist.

I am a phantom that tickles your ear as I move intimate close.

I get the hairs on the back of your neck and forearms to stand erect.

Goosebumpily grandiose.

I’m there in front of you, despite your blindness.

Taken for granted.

Reminding you that your choices aren’t always ethical, and predominantly self-serving.

Snarky comments, sarcastic tones, and guilt reside within the quiver on my back.

I fire down upon those that abandon their accountability with great speed and force.

Recompense required.

You finally see me as you move past glossy surfaces. I am a reflection of your misdeeds.

The looking glass is incapable of lies.

You know deep down, that I am right.

You can’t hide from my truth.

I am the shadow that sticks with you in the darkness.

2021 · Poems · Poemvember 2021


“Anne’stique” ©️ C.P. Hickey 2021


Trunks contain mystery

Value, linens, history

Depots, terminals, and ports

Offloading, in due course

No longer nomadic

Stowed up in an attic

Waiting cloaked in dust

Cobwebs, faces brushed

Under hinges locked

Casual snooper stopped

A secret lies covered

Someday to be discovered

Poems · Poemvember 2021

“Stage Lighting”

“Autumn Up” ©️ C.P. Hickey 2021

“Stage Lighting”

Getting ready for the final act

A flourish of golden autumn

Branches soon to be vacant

Frame warm light

Letting passers by in on a diminishing secret

Not really a secret

Because everyone knows what happens in Fall

The leaves fall off

Not a lot to it, really

Poems · Poemvember 2021 · poetry

“A Bridge Under Troubled Waters”

“Bunker Hill Bridge” ©️ C.P. Hickey 2021

“A Bridge Under Troubled Waters”

Looking over the meandering harbor lanes

Folks stare up at spiraling tensions

As tubes full of air stay afloat in the sky

Harboring delights for all nearby

Port, authority?

Mass commute

Shuttles dump off sea-saw riders


Wharf speed ahead

Old timbers bounce balls

Cannon, rules

Majestic, irrevocable

Boston Strong

Marchy Marchy, quite contrary

How does your Garden grow?


2021 · Poems · Poemvember 2021 · poetry

“Chest, or Copper Pot?”

“Pot” ©️ C.P. Hickey 2021

“Chest, or Copper Pot?”

Pot, chest?

Chest, pot?

One is, the other is not.

Chest pot

Smoked, boiled, smoking hot.

Unattended boils over,

Spilling contents on the stove,

Or, rolling boil in the pot,

Sneakily becomes scalding hot,

Oven mitts can help with gripping,

Boiling point shortly tipping.

Heated fire energy

Moist water, steam ascending.

Poems · Poemvember 2021 · poetry

“Lucky Penny”

“Take a Penny…” ©️ C.P. Hickey 2021

“Lucky Penny”

Lucky penny

Good and plenty

Forgotten sidewalk remainder

Barely hidden

On a mission

To find a needed claimer

Pick it up

Give a rub

Transfer to your pants

Lucky penny

Good and plenty

Just increased your chance


“Tired Writing”

“Distorted” ©️ C.P. Hickey 2021

“Tired Writing”

Tired writing

Tuesday nighting

Word for word

Frenetic frightening.

One holds hopes

To be enlightening.

Better still,

To be read.

Not bought and shelved,

Forgotten dead.

Relevant and on the radar,

Fading still,

Distilled behavior.

Tired writing,

Not enhanced.


In a trance.

Upside down

Bold expanse,

Blank white pages,

Deserve a chance.

If you missed yesterday’s Poemvember offering take a peek: “Stick Man” – ProCrasstheNation

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Christopher P. Hickey makes his home in Malden, MA, with his Wife and Children. He facilitates The Malden Writers’ Collaborative. When not working as an administrator at Harvard University, he creates content for his blog ProCrasstheNation.com.  The blog content spans the range from irreverent to philosophical. Picking up casual photography in recent years, he always tries to capture the light all around him.  Christopher enjoys spending time helping writing colleagues.

He is currently working on a series of short stories or perhaps a novella this November while participating in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). Christopher will attempt to eclipse the 50,000 word mark for a second year in a row.

If you would like to contact Christopher, please contact him at: authorcphickey@gmail.com

There are many projects on tap at the end of this year, so please stay tuned. The month of November promises to be rich with poetry, and we’ll be looking into creating another Advent Calendar of blog posts for 2021. We’ll see a different story, memory, picture, etc. behind a series of mysterious and decorated doors.