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Creep Nov 2014
"You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and *****,
Comet and cupid and Donner and Blitzen,
But do you recall?
The most famous reindeer of all?

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
Has a very shiny nose
And if you ever saw it
You would even say it glows.
All of the other reindeers
Used to laugh and call him names
They never let poor Rudolph
Join in any reindeer games


Then one foggy Christmas Eve,
Santa came to say,
Rudolph with your nose so bright,
Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?

Then all the reindeers loved him,
And they all shouted out with glee,
Rudolph the red-nose Reindeer
You'll go down in history!
"

Why is it that just because he
was asked for help by a celebrity (Santa)
and became associated with this celebrity,
all the other reindeer all of a sudden love him?

Doesn't that mean that the reindeers only love him
because he is now a celebrity
and not him as a reindeer?
humph :(
idk kinda noticed it...
lyrics r from metro lyrics...
Anand  Dec 2014
íFeliz Navidad!
Anand Dec 2014
Yee hee hee hee haw
ha ha ha ha ha
the old Laughing Santa wished
íFeliz Navidad!

with his eight little reindeers, carrying the sleigh
he came swiftly, flying our way
sleigh bells ringing, whooshing through the snow
his sturdy little reindeers, rushed in a row
Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and *****
Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen
they swoosh and crash and dash and scoot
they bolt so fast, and look so cute
children singing and dancing with joy
as he showers some glitters of happiness in sky

It's an occasion of celebration
there's no room for sadness
let's spread the joy by doing
a random act of kindness

Yee hee hee hee haw
ha ha ha ha ha
the old Laughing Santa wished
íFeliz Navidad!
Simon Clark Aug 2012
CHRISTMAS PARADISE

The table was filled with lots of things to eat,
Mince Pies, Stuffing, Turkey and many other meats,
A candle in the centre to flicker out its gold,
A special time for all of us to cherish and to hold.

Everyone pulls a ******* and wears their hats with pride,
As they sit around the burning logs warming all inside,
But through the window they can see a chestnut skating on the ice,
It tries to break through the frozen sheet to a Christmas paradise.

The singers are singing their tunes of Christmas dreams,
So that everybody's hearts and eyes can gleam,
The ribbon that will lie stretched out across the floor,
Will be forever engraved to our minds and deep within our core.

From every house along their street giggling can be heard,
And silent prayers are spoken but God hears every word,
To sprinkle merriment upon their place if only for one day,
So that they can celebrate Christmas in their own special way.

ONE ENCHANTED DAY

I looked from the window on a misty Christmas morn,
The fog was thicker than it had ever been before,
It was cold and quiet and all around my house,
Nothing appeared cheerful not even the decorated tree,
The fairy she looked glumly down,
And the baubles hung their heads in shame,
The tinsel draped all carelessly among the fading lights,
Above the fire there stood one solitary card from someone I once knew.

Around the foot of my Christmas tree not a gift awaited me,
Santa forgot to visit and it all seems so lonely,
I was beginning to despair that this was just another day,
But along came an angel and this she said to me,
I'll give you a tree with decorations so bright and a mantle full of cards,
If you'll enjoy this special day with every inch of your heart,
And so now my Christmas is full of cheer, saved from heartbreak and despair,
I thank the moon and all the stars for my one enchanted day.

SANTA HOPPED ONTO HIS SLEIGH

Santa hopped onto his sleigh with his sack of treats,
Working hard and happy to deliver to the streets,
He carried with him gifts of gold, gifts of card and gifts of cheese,
In answer to the kiddies� wishes for around their Christmas trees.

Santa hopped onto his sleigh pulled by Reindeers strong,
There was Comet and there was Blitzen on his journey long,
Rudolph led the team of merry deer, his nose a shiny red,
While Santa glided down the chimneys - the children still in bed.

Santa hopped onto his sleigh running as fast as he could,
With Donner, Dancer and ***** he knew they'd do what they should,
Old Dasher and Reindeer Cupid flew Santa to the skies,
So that to every little girl and boy he could bring a surprise.

Santa hopped onto his sleigh with thoughts for everyone,
He knew he had to finish soon as he saw the rising sun,
High into the clouds they soared leaving only a jangling bell,
Removing all traces of his presence so that no one on Earth could tell.

SPARE A THOUGHT

As you sit there feeding your face full of seconds and thirds,
And opening gifts that you may not deserve,
There is a place where Santa won't go,
The doorways and steeples with people freezing below,
They only know its Christmas because the streets are so bare,
But on this day of happiness - who will show them some care?

So spare a thought this Christmas, spare a thought please do,
Spare a thought this Christmas for those less fortunate than you.

As we sit here laughing and falling asleep before the screen,
And eating lots more pudding - some with extra cream,
There is a place where Reindeer won't tread,
In the shelters and the hideaways filled with loneliness and dread,
They heard about a Christmas in a "once upon a time",
But on this day of indulgency - who will put their own greed on the line?

So spare a thought this Christmas, spare a thought please do,
Spare a thought this Christmas for those less fortunate than you.

As you secretly think of the things Christmas didn't bring to you,
And thinking of seasonal games for you to play and do,
There is a place so lost that Santa cannot find,
Just a box of cardboard where hope gets left behind,
They were told that Christmas was just around the corner,
It's a day that never comes - who will stand and be more than a mourner?

So spare a thought this Christmas, spare a thought please do,
Spare a thought this Christmas for those less fortunate than you.

So spare a thought this Christmas, spare a thought please do,
Spare a thought this Christmas for those less fortunate than you.

STOCKINGS

Timmy had a stocking hung from his bedroom door,
He wished that it be filled with things he'd never had before,
Maybe a toy soldier beating his drum,
Maybe a model sailor drinking his bottle of ***,
He hoped for a motorcar that could speed around his house,
Or maybe a cuddly toy the image of Mickey Mouse.

He hoped that Father Christmas would bring something for his mum,
Maybe a freshly baked cake or something filled with plum,
A brand new box of magic tricks for my brother Sam,
And a gift for dad to show how grateful I really am,
And Timmy hoped that his dog wouldn't be missed out,
Cause Rover would be sad and blue on Christmas day, no doubt.

Timmy was always thinking of others not only of himself,
That�s why he left a small token for Santa on the shelf,
There was plate filled with cookies - the ones with the choc-chip,
And there was some brandy to keep out the cold - just a little nip,
He also left a bag of many little snacks,
For all the hungry reindeer that'd help fly Santa back.

THE MEANING OF THIS CHRISTMAS

As you huddle beneath your Christmas tree,
Amidst a flame of warmth,
Opening presents, sharing presents, and sharing laughter too,
Remember the meaning of this Christmas is love and joy - peace, happiness for you.

Try to know the story of a baby that was born,
In a manger bed from a woman pure as snow,
Her husband he watched lovingly,
As he calmly cooled her brow.

On that starry night three wise travellers appeared,
Bearing gifts of golden wonder,
Without a need for return,
They sought only a moment with a new life that to this Earth He placed.

And now two thousand years away,
Let's try to recall the message of Christmas,
As we fill our plates with plenty - turkey and chocolate treats,
Singing carols and dancing alive with glee.

Try not to be contented with an overwhelming greed,
Look within your heart and see what you really need,
Is it music? Is it toys? Is it the latest craze?
Learn to embrace a loved one without a possession haze.

Hear the silent footsteps of the men, who travelled all night,
See the snowflakes drifting down from the heavens above,
A reminder to us all,
The meaning of this Christmas my dear, it must be love.

THE ROBIN

Is it the distant whisper of a thousand tiny bells?
Or is it the carolling that tells us when it starts?
I wish for the knowledge from many wishing wells,
I now know when Christmas arrives from the beating of my heart.

It's the day when first you see a robin perched upon a tree,
When you hear his little chirping from a snow covered branch,
You'll see his red breast moving in time with your heartbeat so free,
Be it snowy, be it wet, be it sunny, be it cold - I'll know from the robin on my ranch.

He comes my way each Christmas week and settles in his nest,
It's then I'll know that my sweet family will arrive,
And bring with them such hilarity that makes me truly blessed,
So I raise up my eyes to God and give thanks that I'm alive.

THE SNOWMAN COMES TO LIFE

Little Josephine spent yesterday outside,
She darted through the streets feeling snow under foot,
Her face shone out delight; her smile couldn't hide,
Nothing could ***** the blanket of white not even the blackness of soot,
So she found a silent spot, a space open wide,
A place to build her snowman, where he could always stay put.

She built him high and tall, as tall as her legs would allow,
She made him round and whole with a face that looked so proud,
Now the snow had settled down, it lay upon the bough,
She drew his eyes from coal and a mouth to laugh aloud,
She gave him nose of carrot, hat and scarf but darkness fell and go, she had to now,
She told the snowman she'd return tomorrow, this with crossed heart she vowed.

Home she ambled to her sleepy room to lay down her sweet head,
In her silent sleep that night the wondrous dreams she had,
She saw her snowman come to life and dance, not sit, around instead,
She watched him smile and seeing him fly - it all just made her glad,
In her books and stories a tale like this she'd never read,
She knew it was a dream yet she wasn't sad, the visions she saw were good - not bad.

Little Josephine returned the very next day,
Her snowman was gone the sunshine was here,
Her eyes welled up - her tongue no words to say,
The hat and scarf still on the ground showed nothing was to fear,
For in her mind she knew he'd visit - he would find a way,
If he couldn't get back inside, she'd made memories to recall each and every year.

TWO LOVERS HOLDING HANDS

Two lovers holding hands across the table,
Share this Christmas time,
Something simple no fancy foods,
Not concerned with wine,
They focus on the laughter, on the pleasure of this day,
As their smiles intertwine.

They take an elegant candle and place it in the mud,
They light the wick and out its fire shines bright,
There material belongings for which they will not care,
As they rest their heads on the carpet of endless white,
Holding each other tight they'll gaze beyond the stars,
Nothing will matter as their souls become one this Christmas night.

Two lovers holding hands for eternity,
Sharing each Christmas time,
Something precious and something true,
No concerns for design,
They focus on the sharing, on the wonder of each day,
As their lives will suddenly be defined.
Written in 2004
Larry B Nov 2010
There's Dasher and Dancer
Then Prancer and *****
Comet and Cupid
Then Donner and Blitzen

If you think these are reindeer
Then you would be wrong
And it's not crazy words
In some Christmassy song

See, they are my brothers
Don't anybody laugh
For these are hillbilly names
From Polecat Path

It's a place in the hills
In East Tennesee
On the top of a mountain
As high as can be

Here, Christmas is different
There's no reindeer or sleigh
We use an old covered wagon
It works better that way

We make toys in the smoke house
For most of the year
While smoking our hams
'Til Christmas is near

Then we load up the wagon
With granny on the reins
Her wooden teeth all gummy
With rootbeer stains

Now the wagon is pulled
By my brothers and I
We're plumb tuckered out
'Cause people can't fly

Well, you get the picture
About Christmas in the hills
It's a hillbilly adventure
On wagon wheels

Now there's much more to tell
But it's time to run off
'Cause we're loading the wagon
Your friend, Rudolph
Ron Tranmer Nov 2011
Jolly old St. Nicholas,
lean your ear this way.
There’s something to be said
for the Santa role you play.

You bring happiness to children
with bikes, and dolls and toys,
and instill the Christmas spirit
into grown-up girls and boys.

But you know the greatest gift
isn’t found upon your sled,
and it isn’t all the sugar plumbs
that dance in children’s heads.

It is not one brought by Dasher,
or by Donner, or by Dancer.
It came wrapped in swaddling clothing.
Even Santa knows the answer.

The greatest gift is Jesus Christ.
The Savior of the earth.
And Christmas is the special day
we celebrate His birth

Christ was born into the world
and taught us all He could.
He knows if we’ve been good or bad,
and hopes we’ll all be good.

Santa, we’ll enjoy the gifts
that on Christmas come our way
but it’s not gifts,…It’s Christ the Lord,
we celebrate this  day!
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2016
you know what i find funny? the phrase: i could eat you. juxtaposing vide cor meum against... this is the part where punctuation marks are never collision prone diacritical marks... but then again, there's that dietary joke... i could eat you... dependence on your bones not being properly disavowed within a langoustine broth... and there you are: a grey area mindful of Stalin... *****! i'm trying to humanise ******, stop interrupting! where once a moths' flutter, later a rainbow in the nacht! mind that niqab... nicht would mean nothing. some insinuated cappuchino, some cackles... some said cutie-pies invoking rouge cheeks... every time i watch these culinary shows i get thinking about cannibalism to counter veganism... and then i laugh... i don't want to find stinking socks and political correctness as "my way, did it to suit Lascaux cavern graffiti"... i preferred wanking than keeping up with women... it's the song i heard before lambs stiffened and muslims became muslims, and falafel was mince... ******, get under the hosepipe and you're there, all freely gagging for the fizz... a touch of tinsel... vide cor meum... return of policy... as half-heartfelt kaleidoscope returning to define a rainbow... i love that phrase given the palette opportunity... i could eat you. it's the demonic encouragement that solidifies the stench into what's to be seasoned properly... i don't know.. the phrasing: i could eat you sounds more formidable in delayed practice than: i can **** you... plus the gazpacho... which means: Batman ate cold cauliflower soup and slurred to slurp the question: but it's cold? Baldwin replied: it's supposed to be! they said orthography as a rigidness of aesthetic, i said... that's questionable whether any is applicable, given we're talking about graffiti.

i got tired of sensing other people's jealousy,
and tried to love them,
which ended up to be as much as a matrimony
toward one woman, ambition-bound
to incarnate the matrimony of swans...
  and the poor old ******, left to fantasy in
his days as a widower...
   every time i look at a lonely swans
i try to duck-quack the thing into existence...
            but there are variation of marriage...
a west london accountant can speak terrible
crap against an ethnicity i try to not identify with...
but i am courageously borne from,
    and therefore have to express some affiliation...
as a matter of principle...
  i rather not, but iu must, even though i sprechen
a host tongue... and am, therefore,
embedded with claims of socialite elitism...
                 but then i compare...
and these these comparisons are the due phrase...
Marilyn Manson's *a minute of decay

is a chance to hear the bass guitar overpower
           the drums... a bit like a culinary pistachio
moment in a risotto...
   i want room to breathe in!
     i want vaughan williams' fantasia on a theme
by thomas tallis... i sanctify the need
   for prokofiev's lieutenant kíjé's suite...
(dots are optional, the syllables aren't,
a classical dot above the iota might revel in
being the defining moment of tonguing /
dissecting a word... but it doesn't have to be so)
i need air to breath in, a moment to whimper...
why do the **** love Chopin and not Liszt?
   a bid ******* odd... i don't like either Chopin
or Liszt... because as Kaiser Yoseph said
in amadeus... to many notes...
and i agree... vivaldi made violins into cherub
       pumpernickle sparrows -
you danced, you joyed, you came across St. Vitus' dance...
   you were doing arithmetic as concord speed
within a framework of even (white) and odd (black)
numbers... once you played the nocturnal Fabergé -
someone suggested you move the ******
  goose to the Hermitage, and frame it!
why are the Japanese are the only Europeans in Asia...
      never mind, they just are,
hence they compete for playing Chopin like they consider
sushi to be a culinary exception of the tartar -
minus the influence, obviously, hence the stress to
impose Chopin... but never Liszt... odd...
          template virtuoso and you think of Liszt
than you might conjure Chopin...
           better than that... conjure champagne
bottles blundering to the volcano's worth of fizz...
still... the Japanese are a curiosity...
first of all: they abide by Chopin and chopsticks
not being utilised when gobbling sushi...
   they have the ambassadors of kimono,
samurai, origami, karaoke, bonßai (zye, rye),
          Fukushima... Hiroshima... yep, that place
were stanley lee derived the concept of x-men...
          still, they have permanent ambassadors in
opur midsts... words that can't be "translated" due
to etymological puritanism...
       finally the Portuguese sailed away, and founded
Brazil on the promise of an infinite supply of toothpicks
from the Amazon -
or? hai sensei!           hatch that with the catchphrase:
     kajagoogoo: shy-shy, hush-hush, eye-to-eye.
          we're storming the labyrinth right not,
and i still can't believe that poetry revolves around
the rhythm of rhyme... play any ping-pong, lately?
     no wonder poetry is a peacocking dollop
of clogged-up cow dung... it's just asking
for a *****-slap in a playground.
           but why Chopin and not Liszt?
the **** are what Napoleon was to the Duchy of
Warsaw... they love that arithmetic of
a pebble-dasher's *******...
       wet dreams... some authentic curiosities of
civilisation still have them... i wouldn't recommend
listening to them recounting the fables, personally...
i'd listen in on the succubus jerking them off...
  and just recently i was walking the deaf streets at
night with a bottle of beer and felt the bottle
of beer almost being tugged from my hand...
  and some say that eating a woman's umbilical-chord
is what's necessary to live as a man to later
sing some aria; or like drinking a pregnant woman's
**** will ensure you don't become myopic...
             i don't like Chopin,
i don't like Liszt either... i want a room, and a chance
to breathe... at the end of the classical expression
summarising the wind, we had a return
to the rooting in Africa... earthly delights
and a grumbling stomach in need of feeding,
  jazz did the work for us, jazz still had
an orchestral element to add a Lacan of all things
worthy of deconstruction...
       but then the French came along and shoved
fondue into our ears... and we said
alight with an eureka moment... pop!
             n'ah... the moment when the bass overpowers
the drums... i really have this wild fascination
with the bass guitar...
                 because i don't get Mozart,
and i do think that Handel did much more than
even the sacrificial lamb that Beethoven is...
                  listen... poetry doesn't have to be
music... rhyming is ping-pong anyway...
but as long as you feel in debt concerning music,
the music will come on its own accord...
today i was rattled by a mix of dub (without a step)
and beck's odelay... cruise-missile dylan...
give or take...
      well, given the italicised pr.s. (pre scriptum) -
much later an aged blonde boasted about snorkeling
******* and young ****... and missing out
when she teased me coming back to her abode...
           moth steals from a butterfly,
butterfly never turns into a daisy...
                       you're still a **** and i'm about
half of the total worth of being a ****...
which makes as equal... or queue more.
           variably condoned to be synonym with
mosque...  but i said mannequin...
     it's this **** with the five a day....
Christendom mentioned fruit & veg...
Islam mentioned variations of a murmur...
   is prayer classified as fruit, or vegetable?
you're as bewildered as i am...
   i too thought tomato is a fruit...
turns out it's a vegetable...
primarily due to basil, feta, and the mediterranean.
               herring belong in the baltic,
******* attempting that sort of ballistics...
ask about the relationship between
              a. yan sobieski
         b. ******
                    c. window on arabia (vienna,
counter st. petersburg) -
     oh you'll get many thanks...
sure... you'll end up becoming assured
that dogs don't need petting, but training,
and that you have to make all friends bound
to be kenneled, because they won't learn otherwise;
it's a bit sad...
          for about a minute...
                   you tried being peace-abiding,
peace-mindful...
   you wanted to state compassion...
  in the end people need a slap... or as 2000 years of
history proved... a crucifix.
Santa's Lazy Elf

Five more days till Christmas,
Santa and his crew
were working overtime making
children's dreams come true .
Singing carols, whistling tunes,
as the hours ticked away,
except for little Edison
the elf that went astray.
Instead of making toys
in Santa's assembly line,
he was hanging out with Rudolph
beneath the snow capped pines.
As Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus took
a look around,
they noticed lazy Edison
was nowhere to be found.
They decided they'd had enough
this elf will surely be fired,
scratched their heads and
realized another must be hired.
Dasher heard them talking
and thought this can't be so,
never in elf's history has
someone had to go.
He searched the winter wonderland
and under the Northern Lights
Edison and Rudolph were
frolicking in flight.
He said "Come down from there
your behavior's a disgrace,
Christmas Eve is almost here and
you're about to be replaced.
Edison soon realized his days
of slacking were done,
that there'd be consequences
for goofing off and having fun.
He knew he had no place to go
if Santa didn't let him stay
his heart began to pound,
as Rudolph ran way.
He hurried as fast as he could
to tell Santa he was wrong,
beg him for forgiveness
and show him he belonged.
As the other elves were caroling
he tried to sneak inside,
but Santa saw him coming out of the
corner of his eye.
He placed his hands upon his hips
and firmly shook his head,
"What shall I do with you
my elf," Santa firmly said.
"I see you when you're sleeping
I know when you're awake,
did you not read your history book
he said for goodness sake!"
Santa soon forgave him cause
his heart is made of gold,
and Edison became the
hardest worker I am told.
The moral of this story is
we all must do our part,
and jolly old St Nick has always
had a heart.
Merry Christmas to all of you
on this holiest of days,
may all your dreams come true
as you gather and celebrate!

Written By Kathy J Parenteau
Copyright © December 2013
All Rights Reserved
Natalia mushara  Jun 2015
Dasher
Natalia mushara Jun 2015
Big time do
Big time yo
Girl in limlight
Playin dasher in da show
barnoahMike Oct 2010
In this small coastal Village,,setting out to explore the Many caves.   My heart raced with 'TALES OF TREASURE" !  SO--Off I went.   After a 2 hour Jeep ride,  Flashing Lights from the Sky,  Dropping containers , as if floating to the Ground,   each was about 5' by 5' with an ENBLAZENED MARKING  on the surface.    As I came to the first the Pulsating-Flashing from the MARKING  ,,SIMPLY FORMED THE LETTER  "D".   WOW,  I THOUGHT  " A CASE OF "D's"....T he warning  on the latch,in  SMALL CAPS:   "OPEN AND SHARE"!   I DID AND I AM ! ! !    Millions of pieces of Parchment, folded with a Gold-Leaf "D" on each  ! !   Here's  "WHAT I SHARE"----(# 1)= DASHER-MAN=  "The person who,no doubt with great training,  HAS the Particular ability to "PUT-DOWN" just about Everything that YOU deem to be Fair and Upright.   (# 2)=  DOUSE-SPREADER = A device used to and for the express purpose  of putting out those Little Fires that seem to Crop Up JUST at the wrong time ! !     (# 3)=  DUBIOUS-CLAMPS =  When those thoughts you are having  don't seem QUITE RIGHT,,  THESE  Tools will keep them in check ! !   ( # 4)= DRAB-SHINERS=  Highly trained folks,  with the Special ability to Really bring some BRIGHTNESS to Your day,   When it has been Particular DULL ! !    ( # 5 ) = DRIBBLE-CLOTH=  When a Person keeps on HARPING on the same subject and sees no other solution,   use this  SPECIAL CLOTH to  Wipe the Surface  clean,,,THEN "try-again"   ! !      __N O W_ INSTRUCTIONS SAY ;;;'"  MEMORIZE THESE"    *AND THEN WE"LL GET TO SEE SOME MORE OF "DEEEZ"
Copyright @2010    barnoahMike           Mike Ham
David Ehrgott  Dec 2014
Mr. Santa
David Ehrgott Dec 2014
Mr. Santa can I have your reindeer for Christmas
Mr. Santa lend me your reindeer for Christmas
She was only seventeen
When she meant the world to me
So come on Santa please
Lend them to me
So I can see my sweet Louise

Mr. Santa can I have your reindeer for Christmas
Mr. Santa lend me your reindeer for Christmas
She meant the world to me
When she moved to far to see
Now she's living in Miami
So Santa please lend them to me
Lend them to me

Send Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and *****
Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen
And just so I can see
Send Rudolph with his red nose PLEASE
Oh, Santa won't you please

Mr. Santa can I have your reindeer for Christmas
Mr. Santa lend me your reindeer for Christmas...

— The End —