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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
@thepanicrooms
A little bit of fun for the Winter solstice festival! "Yule" hopefully enjoy this silly story rhyme!
Santa stood by the fire
With a pipe in his teeth
With smoke in the air
Circling him like a wreath

Clement Clarke Moore
Said this so long ago
But, what kind of pipe
I'm sure you don't know

Santa, a smoker
That's nothing new
If you remember the poem
Then you'll know it's true

The pipe, oh so slender
A small bowl at the end
A slight whisper of smoke
In the air, it would send

It arched to the floor
To the end of his beard
If it ever got close
Then his beard would be seared

The tobacco he smoked
Was a Turkish fine blend
With cloves and some nutmeg
Just how much, would depend

Was he giving out presents
Or sitting down by a fire
That determined just what
He would put in his briar

The pipe had a name
It was a Churchwarden pipe
Made of briar so old
A now long extinct type

Red Man tobacco
Some days he'd switch
But, not very often
It made his nose itch

The pipe is a classic
It shows Santa had style
Though it had a small bowl
It would last him a while

He could make rings appear
And they would circle his head
Or he'd just taste the spice
And form a small cloud instead

A Churchwarden pipe
Can be smoked by so few
It's a long way to draw
It's a tough thing to do

The scent that it leaves
Is of burnt spices and pear
And if you should smell it
You know Santa was there

So, this Christmas instead
Make it your pre bedtime goal
To leave out some OHM Turkish
To replenish his bowl
Marcie47 Nov 2018
There really isn't anything new
On this year's Christmas Giver Menu.
First we have the 'Accidental Insulter '
Who needs to hire, a clever gift consultor.
While handing you a gymnasium voucher,
Turning your emotions from 'sweet' to 'sour'!
Insults dressed up as compliments are nothing new,
But still,  Cuz, it's a bit hard to chew!

Next in line is the 'Relentless Re-gifter'
With telltale signs on my "new" game of Twister,
Footprint stains and greasy hand marks,
My goodness, my fury is starting to spark!
"Do you love it? " She asks. "I knew you would! "
She was feeling heroic like Robin Hood,
Passing me that tired looking parcel,
I wanted to fling that **** gift right back to the castle!

I thought to myself, "Hey there Squire!
Your ****** gifts just aren't my desire!! "

Will I fret about this gift?  Not one bit,
I'll just re-wrap it, re-gift it and,
Give it back to them next year!
The message, I bet, will be loud and clear.

"The Cheapskate"! Oh, what can I say here?
It's the same lame excuse year after year!
Buying gifts, eluded his 'plan',
He was far too busy, getting his tan.
Gifts to him just didn't matter,
As long as there was a lobster on a platter!

"The Handmade Lover" has a
Life affirming talent making,
But that 'Floral cushion cover collection,
I fear, by now,  is OVERTAKING!!!

The "Gift Certificate  Easy Roller",
Forgot you were plus five and a stroller,
Smiles smugly,  as they hand it over,
I'd need more luck,  than a four leaf clover,
Taking them all in to get my nails done,
Doesn't feel like a barrel of fun.
So, in future to avoid this mad, crazy dash,
I'd love to receive some COLD HARD CASH!!

Now, nothing makes me feel more nauseated,
Than "High Perceived Value packaging". "It's totally overrated! "

But I take courage in the "One Who Knows Me Best"
Their presents always outshine the rest!

"Merry Christmas to one and all! "
I hope that Santa heard your call,
"H-E-L-P!!! "

1 Nov 2018
I have had a lot of interesting experiences in the receiving of gifts over the years,  and as its soon going to be Christmas again, I felt inspired to write this poem to share late last night. It's my first real poem.  Hope it gives someone some light relief!
Jack L Martin Sep 2018
A bowl of coal to feed my soul,
An elf, a shelf;
reindeer retreat.

A toll to troll the Northern Pole,
A sleigh to treat my seat.  

Complete.
He's making a list...
Ola Gia Aug 2018
Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing,
Will they wake happy, with their faces all daft?
Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.

Clamber over a set of eight legs, careful no tripping
over. Soon they will see which fly is their gift.
Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing.

"Which is mine?"  they spent the evening asking.
"You'll just have to wait and see", I laughed.
Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.

On the edge of the web, fill each stocking
to the brim. Got to be quick and got to be swift.
Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing.

Soon they'll rise and the house will be clicking
with their pincers and not one unwrapped present left.
Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.

Finish the Santa duty, time to start relaxing
ready for the morning when tensions have halved.
Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing.
Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.
A poem that I wrote a while a back, but never published.
Aa Harvey Aug 2018
It’s that time of year
once again.


It’s that time of the year; it is here once again.
It’s time for the kids to be opening presents.
It’s that time of the year; it is here once again,
To get all you wanted and some things you didn’t.


So we thank you Lord, for giving us Christmas;
So we thank you Santa, for bringing us presents.
So we thank you Jesus, for giving us Christmas;
So we thank you Santa, for bringing us presents.


Because we couldn’t cope, if we didn’t have toys,
To make the girls happy; as well as the boys.
The Christmas party, another affair;
It’s time to relax and let down your hair.


It’s time to remember, those who aren’t loved;
We must mock them and jeer them, for they are not like us.
It’s time to forget, the stress of the cost;
Three months of anticipation, will soon be forgotten.


And now the wrapping is on the floor, the box has been discarded;
Whole days are wasted preparing the lunch,
Or to drink at the Christmas parties.
Then New Year comes and we make false promises;
Just a day after Christmas day,
Yet another argument has started.


The presents we loved have lost their shine;
Since we went back to school
And saw their presents were better than mine.
The poorer families were happy on Christmas day;
But consumerism took that happiness away.


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
I traced the lines of your tattoos
While we drank wine in the living room
Mixed cigarette smoke with my perfume
We had no one else and nothing to lose

Winter comes and there you are
Coming to thaw my cold, cold heart
Warmer days kept us apart
But snow would fall and a fire would start
  
Fingertips on tattered keys
We were Gods in a world we'd never see
Painting a picture of intimacy
You made art out of little old me

Years went by that I spent waitin’
For you to be in our bed again
I checked in everyday back then
Sometimes you'd stop by but I'd never know when

The word Boston tastes like you now
I'd like to forget it but I don't know how
I remember painting the front room of our house
And making love to you when you tried to walk out

Come run your fingers through my hair
We can stay in bed all day in our underwear
Our house feels empty without you there
I still hear your footsteps coming up the stairs

I try my best not to think about us
Or how you used to get so jealous
Our story is old and covered in dust
But I promise to remember you every Christmas
Do you?
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