Issue Ten – Christmas

Wanted –
for vagrancy,
trespassing, unlawful
entry, animal cruelty,
and theft –
Santa
Claus (a k a
“Saint Nicholas”, “Old Saint
Nick”, “Father Christmas”, “Kris Kringle”);
height: five
feet, ten
inches; weight: three
hundred thirty pounds; age:
sixty-ish; eye colour:?; hair: white,
full beard;
place of
residence: North
Pole; known associates:
elves; last seen wearing a red suit,
black boots,
and red
hat with white trim;
last seen driving a large,
toy-filled sleigh pulled by eight tiny
reindeer;
known to
frequent rooftops
and chimneys; has taste for
milk and cookies; Reward: two lumps
of coal.

By David Edwards

Originally published in Garbaj 47 (Christmas 2011 Issue)

 

 

Secret Santa
By DS Davidson

No spotting Santa Claus
Flying down Santa Claus Lane
Nor a red suit, white beard
And, jolly laugh
Santa moves secretly
Unseen among us
Seeing who’s naughty or nice
Leaving gifts
Secret surprises in the night

 

Untitled for the Entitled
(Christmas 2019)
By Mark Hudson

Countdown to Christmas Eve,
but can you believe the thieves?
I’ve heard some vicious rumours,
that we are gullible consumers!
Oh, Santa, Santa, where are you?
You surely don’t seem to be true.
I’ve already checked my bank account,
the pressure is starting to mount!
I did my holiday shopping in November,
so I wouldn’t freak out in December.
Now I don’t see any snow,
oh, where did my money go?
We mean to honour a child in a manger,
but watch out for stranger danger!
The pushy salesman, the on-line sales,
all these con-artists should go to jail!
So not to sound like a bummer,
but don’t you sort of miss summer?
It’s not about what you get or you give,
it’s about will i have enough money to live?

 

Christmas Modern
By David Edwards

Christ might
be ‘the reason
for the season’ but cash
is body, blood, bread, and wine of
This Mass.

Christmas Zombies
By Mark Hudson

Now it’s time to deck the halls,
and avoid the shopping malls.
Christmas zombies out in droves,
monsters dressed in fancy clothes.
Shop, shop, shop, until you drop!
You don’t even have to stop.
The stores take zombie’s credit cards,
make-up to cover up the scarred.
Twelve more days until it’s done,
zombies must avoid the sun.
Crawling through winter wonderlands,
they simply do not understand!
What Christmas is all about,
consumerism we could do without.
Does this poem describe you, ghoul?
It describes me also, I’m a fool!
Zombies know whose in the pack,
we’ve all been to hell and back.
If we can make it through New Year’s Eve,
we’ll finally get a chance to breathe!