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Marla Aug 10
The straightforward path
is lined with distractions
meant to **** the unwise
from the wise.

Though entertaining,
their attractions are empty.
Though enchanting,
their wares are cheap.
Though savory,
their food is unfulfilling.

The sage understands
that the fruits of life
follow those who flourish
on and not off of the path.

In knowing this
there is great being,
for life is a game
of accrual and not of
ConnectHook Dec 2017
Children drugged with truthless tales . . .
Unwise men embrace their treasure;
Algorithms urge the sales
In malls devoid of merry measure.

Plastic sparkles in the air;
Automotive ads turn festive . . .
Forced good nature everywhere
Makes the shopping crowds grow restive.

Corporate greed spins altruistic
Hyping goods, suppressing Christ.
Our Yuletide is their big statistic
Oversold and underpriced.

Secular beribboned fluff:
Peace, Goodwill . . .  but don't say God !
And heaven knows you've had enough;
Just download the app—acquire the mod.

Coca-Colaed, Disneyfied
You're wrapping paper for their fire;
Eggnogged, Santa-ed, thrown aside
While Babel's flames roar ever higher.

The godlessness shines right on through
Where Christmas lyrics die, unheard.
The Yule-log and the sparks that flew
Expire in embers long unstirred.

The old usurper carting toys
And Chinese knock-offs in his sled
Sets off a lot of empty noise:
Insanity in green and red.

The lurker leers and hauls his bag
(jolly antichrist distraction)
While flying Bishop Nicholas' flag:
A winter psy-ops covert action.

Only message left: go drink!
And may your cup o'erflow with cheer
Before you risk to start to think
Yourself and God right out of here.

Hallmark haloes, bygone kitsch
enwreaths the memory of the years,
Kindling maudlin sadness which
wells up in melancholy tears

For Christian culture (rest in peace)
Long-corrupted by dollar signs;
For fa la la and fattened geese
And holly midst the ivy vines;

For Dickens' gospel of the season
Anglican angelic ghosts
Pushing us beyond unreason
Toward the future's spectral hosts;

For folklore now reduced to ash
Commercial blow-outs, ***** snow;
For Saturnalian urge to smash
the store-front windows where they show;

For useless manger figurines
Passed down from some more faithful time;
For hallowed and nostalgic scenes
No longer worth a Roman dime.
I still love Christmas but its ongoing commercial secularization by corporate globalists makes me retch (into my mulled wine).

Nonetheless, like Scrooge, I intend to keep Christmas well.
By the way, that's Merry CHRISTmas.
Dr Peter Lim Aug 2018
But the wise
aren't around
the unwise
are here--to confound!
Mark Aug 2018
Conversing lover's tongue - I may neglect
to discourse plainly love, beheld and true
as noted oft; when sultry day's effect
and wine that doused your play could not outdo.

Bereft none, ardent lust transcends accent
if measure need be - time my other speech;
the pash upon your jewel I've descent,
until in tone you've pled for deeper breach.

If still unwise - let know I've curbed cascades
tho' early tidal swells have raised herein
it's flow are liquid signs that love pervades!
That then have gushed to honor you therein.

So swim my words of love within your womb
and find that home, so say my love in bloom.
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