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C Mahood Dec 2018
The Starling landed on the sand,
A twitching head it tilted,
Towards old bill,
Wrinkled and weathered.
His old black hat
Ripped, stitched & feathered.
The Starling rested in his hand
Through time's fingers sand now wilted.
Passing the same bench I pass each week. On the beach near my home, I see an old man sitting alone staring to the see. Today I saw him looking at a bird that landed on the other side of the bench. On my return trip back from. The far end of the beach the same man slept, his hand open, holding bread he was feeding the birds. A small Bird ventured towards his palm as this poem fluttered to my mind. How life can be so fast and busy and death can be so sweet and gentle.
C Mahood Dec 2018
Listen kids I’ve got something to say,
Before he met Mrs clause, Santa was gay.

I suppose that makes him. Bisexual
He was also an intellectual.

He studied at the college of legends and myth
That’s where he met his love, Mr. Smith.

They met while studying invincibility
In the library, a place of true tranquility.

Before he had grown the big white beard,
He had acne and pox marks that people found weird

Not Mr Smith, he thought he was quite handsome
He said the moment they met his heart was held ransom.

They met every lunchtime and ate in the park
They discussed a love of Christmas and knew there was a spark.

Santa had wanted this since the moment he was born.
Someone to love, someone with the horn.

Two. To be precise on either side of his head.
It lead to lots of excitement and surprises in bed.

When both of them had graduated, diplomas in hand,
Santa went into the family business, Krampus joined a band

Like his father before him Santa was a toy maker
Whereas Krampus had become a notorious law breaker

When Santa was out testing toys in the rain,
Krampus was getting drunk and snorting *******.

But despite the distance they always made time
To meet at least once a month for cheese and wine.

One time. However, 5 years after they met,
They snuggled up together, enjoying every second they could get.

Krampus hugged him so tight, if only he’d known,
That Santa had to break some awful news of his own.

You see, to take over from his dad there were rules to follow,
This news was almost the hardest thing Krampus had to swallow.

The rules were quite clear, Krampus had to get the boot,
Santa had to marry a Mrs cause before he dawned the red suit.

Krampus couldn’t believe it, can’t the estate move with the times?
Were these really the rules or was Santa sick of his crimes?

Santa swore blindly that these were the things he had to do.
But he swore to Krampus “I’ll always really love you! “

Despite this heartfelt confession Krampus was pretty ******
He tried to push himself to his feet, but drunkenly he missed.

He slipped head first towards Santa who stood in his place.
His horns were sharp and pointed, stabbing Santa in the face.
“oh ****!”  he screamed “are you OK?” but Santa screamed in pain.
Both his eyes were bleeding red, fearing he would. Never see again.

Krampus rang his buddy from the ER that he knew,
Panicking he cried down the phone not knowing what to do.

He explained the situation not knowing what to say,
He had to rush Santa there quite fast, he had to use the sleigh.

There were no magic reindeer to pull the sleigh that night
So Krampus used a pack of wolves, and held on quick and tight.

They made it to the hospital hoping, No one saw them fly
Krampus tried to stay real strong, he didn’t want to cry.

But when Santa went to surgery to see what could be done.
Krampus balled his eyes out, he just wanted to run.

He stated all night in the waiting room with all his fingers crossed
He swore he would make it to to him, no matter what the cost.

Finally the tooth fairy gave him A happy nod.
Santa would Be fine for now. Krampus thanked his God.

He didn’t really believe in God, there isn’t one, he knew,
But in that situation it just felt the right thing to do.

When he went into visit and to say his apologies,
He found the door was locked, and Santa’s father held the keys.

“be gone you **** Demon, I think you’ve done enough!
Mrs clause has gone to Santa’s flat to empty all your stuff! “

Krampus tried to speak but Santa senior cut him off.
“you are not to see my son again, you honey smelly goth!

He has a big bright future, a loving faithful life ahead,
And I swear, over my dead body will you be back inside his bed!

Now get the hell out of here, don’t show your face again,
Go crawl back to the tree stump hole, that sinfully minging den! “

Krampus really had messed up, and took all the comments thick,
Santa had said his dad was old fashioned, but not that he was a total ****!

In anger Krampus left and swore to never love again.
He felt embarrassed and ashamed, that he was into men.

For years he lived a quiet life but never found his calling
Until one Christmas eve he saw a flying sleigh that started falling.

He ran as fast as his houves could to catch the falling fatty
His clothes were old and smelly, ripped and frayed and all round tatty.

Luckily he managed just in time to save the man from dying
But he was not prepared to see his long lost love, and started crying.

Both of them just stood and hugged, thier love was truly magic
They both hated the fact that the outcome would always be quite tragic.

“you saved my life, my Mr. Smith, I knew you were not bad.
Maybe now I can put in a word and big you up to dad? “
So that’s what he did, he called him up, then put the story in writing.
Santa senior said “the only time you should see Krampus is when you two are fighting!

Don’t you see son, you are good, and he is bad to the bone,
The devil wants him to destroy Christmas and sit on an evil throne.”

Kramus was destroyed again, depressed and quite distraught,
But Santa cheered him up again with a wonderful devious thought.

“ if I am the good Christmas spirit and you and the spirit of bad,
I’m supposed to make the children happy... Then you should make them sad!

That way every Christmas eve when you try to steal their things
I will he forced to fight you, from the obligation it brings!”

So from that day on they both played their parts,
They kept up the charade till they were both old farts.

Even to this day people speak about the war
Between the good St. Nick and the Krampus *****.

Every now and then children swear that they hear,
The fighting raging louder as Christmas eve draws near.

But trust me when I tell you That when the winter air is biting.
The grunts and moans you think you hear, is surely not them fighting.

Like Romeo and Juliet their love is tragically mental.
But not as bad as the morning after their Christmas motel rental.

Because both of them will play the role but grin from ear to ear,
When they think of the night of passion they have, in December every year.

Christopher Mahood
A little bit of fun for the Winter solstice festival! "Yule" hopefully enjoy this silly story rhyme!
C Mahood Nov 2018
Sometimes i
Feel great
Then create
A fate
I hate.
Sometimes I
Just debate
And fixate
On Being overweight.
But then I
And reinstate
A positive state
Of feeling great!
A simple, yet fun exercise in word play. Using the last word to create the rhyme and follow through a single statement using a rhythmic meter that works best spoken aloud
C Mahood Oct 2018
An adjective in Belfast accent slang,
Used as a term of endearment by some,
And as an opposite tool by others.
Like weighted chains around the eagle’s feet,
Adorned with rubies and diamonds and pearls.
They say they coated the bird with love,
Yet knowingly stopped the creature flying.
I ask myself if I will be the bird,
That stares into the sky with burdened tears,
And makes excuses as to why I fail.
Or will I take those jewels strapped to my feet,
To buy a perch that’s higher than the stars.
Reclaim the name that they had given me.
The “Big Lad” that stands out and owns the sky.
C Mahood Oct 2018
A  sound to everything, from everything a sound,
A voice, a cry, a laugh, a whisper.
From the highest octaves of the smallest songbird,
To the lowest growls of an angry hound.
The silent rolls of the ocean, crescendo with the ground.
A sound to everything, from everything a sound.
C Mahood Jun 2018
As the ivy meets the water on the ancient crumbled wall,
So the water laps and kisses through the beauty of it all.
On the Rhine by the bridges where the flags drape from the lips.
And we float down the river with the water to our hips.

Couples watch as we pass, deep in awe and lost in love,
As the ducks pass in the water and the swans fly above.
Then the sun sets in Basel on a warming Swiss eve,
And I weep for the morning, for tomorrow we must leave.
I wrote this tonight as my wife and I enjoyed our final. Evening in Switzerland. We leave for Germany tomorrow and are driving and exploring through the black forest and North. We decided to stay an extra day in Basel, Switzerland. It was worth it. A beautiful, relaxed, love-filled city. Bursting with an extreme complementary mix of medieval history and a hopefull, youthful and modern outlook.

This was written as I sat with my feel in the river with the sounds of water, laughter, clinking wineglass & world Cup football from every tiny bar along the waters edge.
C Mahood Jun 2018
bought a second book to write between the pages.

Sometimes I make corrections
On words that are only wrong to me
Sometimes I try to write the wrongs
That no one else can see.

Sometimes I tear the pages out
And scatter them in the fire
I rewrite those words over again
Late at night untill I tire.

Sometimes my dust cover slips away,
And my hardback seen beneath.
With brused wet edges torn away,
Like a wolf that shows its teeth.

I do not want the world to see
scribbles, drawn in many stages
So I bought myself a second book.
To write between the pages.
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