Anything but Christmas - Poems and comments thread

Trees are bah

Cat breaking baubles
cat in the tree
tree shedding needles
tree is too big
big bloody bills
big turkey for oven
oven overloaded
oven gone off
off to the shops
off with his head
head aches and bursting
head of the house
house is a shambles
house is too small
small thanks I get
small present no good
good will to none
good job its over
over seas beckons
over my strop
strop from a teenager
strop from her mum
mum does it all
mum under pressure
pressure tempers rising
pressure from in laws
laws lay them down
laws are for breaking
breaking the bank
breaking the glasses
glasses are missing
glasses on nose
nose of the parson
nose keep it out
out and about
out delivering cards
cards still not posted
cards fell on fire
fire from faulty lights
fire at the neigbors
neighbors lights are better
neighbors drank all the wine
wine is your savior
wine drunk while cooking
cooking forever
cooking non stop
stop enough bah
stop with the humbug
bah
humbug.

This reads like a psychiatrist's free association exercise. But it looks like someone is inventing a form here, so I'll guess UYS.
 
Travis Longs for the Longest Night.

I stoke the fire, wake up the coals
at five am with tattered pages
from last week's Weekly Gazette
and kindling from some tamarack,

later warm up the pickup truck
for coffee with Marcel Bilodeau
at Bea's where I'll buy some dry gas.
Tonight's Fahrenheit's ten below.

I do a few more chores in town,
and John at the Hardware says don't worry
I can bring my checkbook tomorrow.
Norma Whitehouse hands me my mail

before I go home to fiddle with some
repair in the kitchen where Hester's baking
and feign to whisper church ladies' gossip
to smell the kitchen in Hester's hair

who knows, of course, that I'm feigning
as a stone cold winter sun goes down
behind a 45th parallel
mountain ridge west of town,

time for the Weekly Gazette
and a catnap with Willy our cat
until some Hubbard squash soup and bread
with a little bit of Marcel's spread

he says that's from his favorite cow,
later some tea for Hester and me,
jasmine like Hester's perfume,
with blueberry muffins. We spoon

a bit before Hester pivots around
to let her hair down on my shoulder
on this the longest night of the year
when Hester asks me to hold her.

With this many given names for the characters in a homespun story, it's either GM or an elaborate impersonation of GM.
 
Anything but Christmas: Wishes for Hanukkah

I wish you smooth sailing to all your milestones
...That I may be free of your incessant kvetching

I wish you a bottle of chill pills
...That I need not clear the dishes, close the closets, or clean my desk a minute after use

I wish you unending patience and calm
...That I may enjoy a late morning teacup now and then

I wish you oneness with the electronic u-verse,
...That I will have no plastic bits and silicon chips to sweep into the dustbin

I wish you placid days and boring times,
...That I must not witness your dripping condescension

I wish you equanimity and a serene year
...That I may need suffer fewer temper tantrums

I wish you smooth and gentle skies on your journeys
...That I may be free of your desperate clammy grip on take-off

I wish you sleep untroubled by daily cares
...That I may enjoy uninterrupted dreams for once

I wish you the respect and adulation of all
...That you do not stretch the limits of mine

This is very literate and Hanukkah-themed, so I'm guessing Mer. If I'm wrong, it won't be the first time. :)
 
the music rant from a joan rivers fan is a work of art in its own right, introducing and reintroducing the dimension of a musical platform on which the words stand - like a 3-D card!

Joan Rivers?! It references a famous song called "River" by Joni Mitchell. It is the first poem I have seen based entirely on hyperlinks. It's a fresh idea, but not necessarily a very poetic one.
 
Joan Rivers?! It references a famous song called "River" by Joni Mitchell. It is the first poem I have seen based entirely on hyperlinks. It's a fresh idea, but not necessarily a very poetic one.

:D

sorry, that was my stupid sense of humour linking joan rivers :eek:
 
The Packaging

Did he mean to steal the pagans' thunder?
To live and to die by their calendar?
They say that's how it played, but yet I wonder
whether they were public relations men
of antiquity.

Was there some focus group that chose the riff
where Mary tells Joe she's a virgin, and he buys it,
and the lad's a water-skiing action hero
with super powers, and he wows them all
upon the vernal equinox?

But (at least for me) the magic's in the paradox
that he laid out up on the hill,
to love your foes and turn the other cheek
(and there's no holiday for that.)
Given names again, and a quasi-theological bunny -- GM?
 
they said 'go find your inner grinch'

they said 'go find your inner grinch'
as if it were that easy
i contemplated reindeer slays
but no, too cheap, too cheesey

i thought about a jolly elf
kidnapped to sugar'd beaches
with not a glimpse of fur in sight
fed cocktails and sweet peaches

i thought about a bombing drone
eliminating chimneys
of power cuts and no-go zones
of jungles, steam, and leeches

of politicians wringing hands
and popstars raising monies
war-torn lands and bankers' plans
and life bereft of funnies

of children's faces all aglow
reflecting homes on fire
choking dust and rubble'd streets
kalashnikovs and liars

i wish i'd never started this
the slope is steep and greasy
my inner grinch should stay asleep...
reality's too beastly

Carefully crafted meter and a political theme -- did I write this? No. So I'll guess Tzara.
 
Winter’s Solstice in Aleppo

That twinkling on the horizon ain’t no
star just another Russian fighter closing
to lay its nest of cluster bombs
or a missile cruising in.

Winter’s solstice approaches, the rocket's
flare fizzles and only darkness remains.
Come morning, no flag will fly
in this city of ruins.

When you bomb rubble you get only
smaller rubble, a few more dead
bodies and the unlucky ones
who ain’t dead.

More than five years caught between forces,
as leaders and faiths strike hollow truces
then bomb their own, leaving only
helpless rage and anger.

My only Christmas wish is to be
anywhere other than Aleppo.

This was clearly written by someone in the Anglosphere, struggling to respire amidst a suffocating miasma of war propaganda from the BBC or New York Times. My Syrian friends are rejoicing in the defeat of the hordes of US/UK/Saudi/Qatari-sponsored Jihadi mercenaries who came from all over the world like a plague upon their nation.
 
This reads like a psychiatrist's free association exercise. But it looks like someone is inventing a form here, so I'll guess UYS.

The form is a Blitz, and not invented by UYS (at least to my knowledge). But I agree that UYS is the most likely author.
 
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Carefully crafted meter and a political theme -- did I write this? No. So I'll guess Tzara.

Funny - I also thought "they said 'go find your inner grinch'" may have been yours! I'll second Tzara - coming out of a long hiatus? I hope so. I really enjoyed the poem.
 
The form is a Blitz, and not invented by UYS (at least to my knowledge). But I agree that UYS is the most likely author.
..
Ah no, GuiltyPleasures, Angeline, and Lyricall also use the form, check the 30/30 challenge, I thought Angeline wrote it
 
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Peter plucked some pine cones
to put upon his tree.
but Peter passed some pretty picks
pouting pettily
Patsy piqued by pettiness
piston Peter's plot
and Pastor Passim passed out
impassioned by her splot.
 
Clarificashun'

A minor quibble: the normal spelling is "Eid."

I'm guessing Ashesh, because of the odd spaces before the commas in the first line, and because North Americans and Europeans generally don't seem to know what Diwali is.

AH : I went with the spelling of " Id-ul-Milap"
 
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A minor quibble: the normal spelling is "Eid."

I'm guessing Ashesh, because of the odd spaces before the commas in the first line, and because North Americans and Europeans generally don't seem to know what Diwali is.

Europeans do know what Diwali is, in my case a lot of fireworks going off frightening my dog.
 
Europeans do know what Diwali is, in my case a lot of fireworks going off frightening my dog.

In Mumbai, dogs ( both strays as well as house pets) are traumatized by the sheer volume of noise pollution of firecrackers during Diwali but thankfully the level has come down in recent years thanks to more awareness !
 
The Packaging

Did he mean to steal the pagans' thunder?
To live and to die by their calendar?
They say that's how it played, but yet I wonder
whether they were public relations men
of antiquity.

Was there some focus group that chose the riff
where Mary tells Joe she's a virgin, and he buys it,
and the lad's a water-skiing action hero
with super powers, and he wows them all
upon the vernal equinox?

But (at least for me) the magic's in the paradox
that he laid out up on the hill,
to love your foes and turn the other cheek
(and there's no holiday for that.)

The tell-tale signs of AH are in this one (public relations men? check; focus groups? check; paradox? check). I do like the way that last line sounds like a slap. :D
 
Peter plucked some pine cones
to put upon his tree.
but Peter passed some pretty picks
pouting pettily
Patsy piqued by pettiness
piston Peter's plot
and Pastor Passim passed out
impassioned by her splot.

Cute! HH?

Ah, no! Mags!
 
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they said 'go find your inner grinch'

they said 'go find your inner grinch'
as if it were that easy
i contemplated reindeer slays
but no, too cheap, too cheesey

i thought about a jolly elf
kidnapped to sugar'd beaches
with not a glimpse of fur in sight
fed cocktails and sweet peaches

i thought about a bombing drone
eliminating chimneys
of power cuts and no-go zones
of jungles, steam, and leeches

of politicians wringing hands
and popstars raising monies
war-torn lands and bankers' plans
and life bereft of funnies

of children's faces all aglow
reflecting homes on fire
choking dust and rubble'd streets
kalashnikovs and liars

i wish i'd never started this
the slope is steep and greasy
my inner grinch should stay asleep...
reality's too beastly


Very nice! No idea who the author might be, but if I had to pick, I'll second AH's guess that it's Tzara.
 
Twelve Nights of Yule

A plague on the Christians I pray!
With their crucified carpenter
and jealous one true God.
To Hel with them, I say.

From the Winter Solstice night
and another twelve more,
we celebrate the day's
ever growing length of light.

We celebrate the rebirth of Sunna.
Wassail our friends and family.
Complete our yearly tasks
and honour Thor and Freya.

Holly adorns the hearth with it's Yule log
and firs are hung with votive offerings.
And if the Christians usurp our ways,
I say, sacrifice them in a deep bog.

I'm going to guess Hard Rom for this one, he's written on themes of the northern pantheon before.
 
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