This song, it won't berate you
It won't, the Bible, beat
It's only a reminder
It's not meant to defeat.

It won't put you down at all
Once I was where you sit
It won't proselytize at all
(Well, maybe just a bit).

We enjoy the holidays, right?
With friends & family round!
We await the "Jolly Elf"
And happiness abounds!

RIGHT?

Deck the halls and celebrate!
Put on festive togs!
Put the roast beast in the oven
Burn those yuletide logs!

Christmas or Winter Solstice?
Does it matter, folks?
We're having FUN this time of year...
Laughing! Telling jokes!

RIGHT?

That's true of many people
But do ALL withstand the test?
There are those who have no family
Not all of us so blessed.

Those of us who have our friends
May not understand
But when you have nobody
Holidays ain't so grand.

(Chorus)

Those of us despondent
At this time of year
When everything seems gloomy
A light CAN, in us, appear!

No. Holidays aren't for everyone
No Christmas cards to send
But when you know a Savior

YOU'LL ALWAYS HAVE A FRIEND.

(BRIDGE)
So let's light a candle
It is NOT THE END
Once you accept Jesus Christ
You'll always have a friend!

Catherine Jarvis
(C) 12/23/2019

On the First day of Xmas, my Dem Rep gave to me
A transwoman in her skiv-vies.
On the second day of Xmas, my Dem Rep gave to me
Two fake *******, and a transwoman in her skivvies.
On the third day of Xmas, my Dep Rep gave to me
No women’s sports teams, two fake ******* and a transwoman in her skivvies.
On the fourth day of Xmas, my Dep Rep gave to me,
Four phalloplasties, no women’s sports teams, two fake ******* and a transwoman in her skivvies.
On the fifth day of Xmas, my Dem Rep gave to me
Five preg-nant men! Four phalloplasties, no women’s sports teams, two fake *******, and a transwoman in her skivvies.
On the sixth day of Xmas, my Dem Rep gave to me,
Six double mastectomies, five preg-nant men! Four phalloplasties, no women’s sports team, two fake *******, and a transwoman in her skivvies.
On the seventh day of Xmas, my Dem Rep gave to me,
Seven teens with breast binders, six double mastectomies, five preg-nant men! Four phalloplasties, no women’s sports teams, two fake *******, and a transwoman in her skivvies.
On the eighth day of Xmas, my Dem Rep gave to me,
Eight cheater’s trophies, seven teens with breast binders, six double mastectomies, five preg-nant men!  Four phalloplasties, no women’s sports teams, two fake *******, and a transwoman in her skiv-vies.
On the ninth day of Xmas, my Dem Rep gave to me,
nine pharma lobbyists,  eight cheaters’ trophies, seven teens with breast binders, six double mastectomies, five preg-nant men! Four phalloplasties,  no women’s sports teams, two all gender locker rooms, and a transwoman in her skiv-vies.
On the 10th day of Xmas, my Dem Rep gave to me
10 years of electrolysis, nine pharma lobbyists, eight cheaters’ trophies, seven teens with breast binders, six double mastectomies, five preg-nant men! Four phalloplasties, no women’s sports teams, two all gender locker rooms and a transwoman in her skivvies.
On the 11th day of Xmas, my Dem Rep gave to me
11 lost scholarships, 10 years of electrolysis, nine pharma lobbyists, eight cheaters' trophies, seven teens with breast binders, six double mastectomies, five preg-nant men! Four phalloplasties, no women's sports teams, two all gender locker rooms and a transwoman in her skiv-vies!
On the 12th day of Xmas my Dem Rep gave to me,
12 preferred pronouns, 11 lost scholarships, 10 years of electrolysis, nine pharma lobbyists, eight cheaters' trophies, seven teens with breast binders, six double mastectomies, five preg-nant ment! Four phalloplasties, no women's sports teams, two all gender locker rooms and a transwoman in her skiv-vies!

Esoteric Eleanor...
Is a woman set apart
She has an obscure interest
In a certain type of art.

She collects her little fairies
Has an interest in old tomes
Has few, if any, closer friends
Has tons of garden gnomes.

She owns a run-down mansion
With lots of dusty rooms
Her letters closed with sealing wax
She speaks in garbled runes.

She met her fate one cloudy day
Oh yes, she is quite dead.
Her foot slipped on the marbles
That spilled out of her head!

Yes, she lost her footing
Alas, she is no more
Lies within her antique coffin
Esoteric Eleanor.


Catherine Jarvis
(C) 12/15/2019

I

That twitch in the schoolgirl’s eye
Isn’t caused by snowy mountains.
There’s Guildhall in her twisted lip.

II

I was of three minds.
Greta Thunberg took all of them
And cloaked them in a yellow hood.

III

A small part of the pantomime was never Greta’s style.
She has miles to go before she lets us sleep.

IV

Of the things schoolgirls hate
The sun is not among them.
The blackbird’s wings and the oil fields of Manitoba
Are one.

V

I do not know which to prefer,
The thought that they might one day bring out
Greta Thunberg bobbleheads
Or the fact that bobbleheads exist at all,
The fact that we’re ******
Or the fact that we’re enjoying it.

VI

An indecipherable cause.

VII

O pigtailed teens of Stockholm,
Please remember
What Wallace Stevens said
About birds of golden feathers
And of black.  

VIII

What is involved in what I know?
Like Socrates, I don’t know.
But it’s more than 99.9 per cent
Of climate scientists could ever dream
And less than a signpost
To the wrong city in the snow.

IX

When Greta sailed two weeks to New York
She was in a circle of close friends.
I bet they ate tinned kippers
And had those sweets the Swedish love.  

X

To cry out sharply is what we do
If we are lucky enough to cry.
And so I have more compassion
For Greta than you know.  
Some women have no time.
Their children dying
Takes up the best portion of the day.

XI

I can’t remember the part of the campaign trail
He rode over to tell a waiting crowd
How the size of his equipage
Compared to his small hands.
There are good reasons why Greta hates his guts.
This is not the best of them.

XII

The river is full of plastic.
The thermometer must be rising.

XIII

It is snowing
And it is going to snow.

The birds have abandoned
their feeding baskets, diagonal
rain has created a pinstriped
pattern on our window.

Steam, (which is immediately
vaporising) is exhausted from
the central heating Baxi Boiler
being fuelled by Natural Sea Gas.

It's is as cold as a dogs nose and
stiff with the rheumatism of nights
nights inactivity, beneath this frosted
stratosphere, a liquid silence.

Global Warming my ***, Hibernia
is as cold now as when the Romans
abandoned the idea of colonising us
and that was 2,000 years ago. A.D.

It's cyclical, evolution, what caused
The Deluge or Aqua Alto in Venice
570 A.D. certainly not co2 emissions,
why is Ireland importing oranges.

Greta Thunberg is a plant, just like
Mother Theresa, who incidentally
was known as Fossil Face off stage
& the former is called The Iceberg.

That is because she is being managed
by the Nine Tenths who are the unseen,
same ones that control the minds of
the mini minded masses. Gullible Crisis.

Imagine, if you will my friends
A skein of silken thread,
White as floes of feather snow,
The very tip is red.

Imagine then, this thread to wend
The universe about
To wrap red Mars & every star
A thousand times enroute.

Let nebulae be woven there
The planets knitted tight
The skeins are lit
like lanterns fair,
The red tip scarlet bright.

That tip so insignificant
Can represent this life.
It's carmine hue
the blood we shed
In suffering & strife.

The rest of the
White stretch of string
Why, let's let it be
A tale untold, let it hold
The rest... Eternity.

Yet all that stretch of silver skein,
This concept may be tough,
But, my friends, it never ends!
There'd never be enough!

So why do people struggle so
To resist the endless love?
Let that tip of velvet yarn
Be dipped in Jesus's blood!

For then the skein
which then remains
Will indeed be white!
Sin's dark stain can be retained
And it is dark as night.

Hell or heaven. Listen friends!
This poet has a voice
Heaven. Hell. Truth to tell...

Eternity. YOUR CHOICE.


Catherine Jarvis
12/13/2019

Oh how I hate
this time of year,
with the stupid songs
and holiday cheer...
Annoying bell ringers
outside the store,
and the tacky wreaths
hanging on the door.
Cardboard calendars
filled with waxy treats,
ice and snow making
death traps of streets.
Frazzled parents
spending more then they should
on entitled kids
who are far from good.
Fake smiles & wishes
in the "spirit" of it all,
the empty shelves-
the crowds at the mall.
The hour long line
to see Santa the phony
who falsely promises
an x-box or a pony.
Having to gather
with family who annoy,
gifting another cheap
Chinese-made toy.
Fire hazards
strung with tinsel and lights,
tensions leading
to fun Christmas fights!
Secret Santas-
holiday parties for work-
ugly sweaters
making you look like a ****.
The stress of having
an enormous list
and a tiny budget
just makes me ******!
No, nothing seems jolly
or merry or bright...
Oh how I can't wait
till post-Christmas night!