"santas" poems
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!
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
Santa sat and looked about the mess that lay before him
"How will I get these gifts all wrapped and gone by Christmas morning?"
The workshop looked as though it had been hit by a Tornado
But instead it was all the fault of *** he brought back from Tobago
A little shot in the elves egg nog would make them all work faster
But, as he saw the end result was short of a disaster
The more they drank the more they all got up and danced on tables
And in the end elf Juniper was left wearing only labels
She looked quite good despite her age, she was just about six thirty
And what she did with candy canes...well, you can say it was quite *****
The paper stretched from room to room, many miles were unravelled
Santa looked at the mess again, and thought "It's high time that I travelled"
He left the North to make a trip to hire cleaning staff
But , turned the reindeer right around, because he knew they'd laugh
How do you tell a person that you are about to hire
That the mess that they will soon clean up, is because my elves were wired
Santa thought that magic would be just the way to go
He would use it to clean up the mess, and nobody would know
The only problem with this stunt is that magic has a rule
He can only use it Christmas eve, it was not his private tool
The toys were strewn everywhere, and most were broke or nicked
He would have to wake the elves all up and to start things getting fixed
So, if you wake up Christmas morn and there is nought beneath your tree
Don't worry, Santas late, he should be there by three
He left a little late this year, but he will be by real quick
And he swore to never serve elves ***** or his name is not Saint Nick!
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 3:08 PM UTC
I used to believe in Santa Claus
So jolly and red and so fat.
I was a big fan of Christmas
No holiday was as great as that.
Not Easter with those funny eggs
Not even Halloween with candy.
No, that thing about tons of presents
To me, that was fine and dandy.
And we even got two weeks off
Nobody had to go to school.
Then coming back with new clothes
That made me look so cool.
Nothing compared to Santa Claus
The flying reindeer, ** ** guy.
I used to try to stay awake
So I could see him flying by.
It was such a great reality
To know that dude was up there
In the frozen north pole air
Making stuff for kids everywhere.
That was the world I reveled in,
Where everyone celebrated.
I knew I was not the only one
Who sat by the tree and waited.
I don’t remember being confused
By the Santas in department stores.
Santa had lots of helpers, I knew,
And this guy was just one more.
I did have a problem with chimneys
And a bag that he could lift
That carried things for all us kids;
Every size and type of gift.
But kids have a way of helping folks
To maintain a pretty fantasy.
We just ignored things that didn’t fit.
We went about it very easily.
But one day, and I remember when
I got let in on the confidence game
And Santa Claus was quickly gone,
Never to come to our house again.
The sad thing is nothing can ever
Replace the joy I once felt.
Santa was not supposed to be
Like Frosty and too quickly melt.
So, I have to make do with having
The grownup toys I buy myself.
Oh, how I could use a flying sled
And the help of a brace of elf.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC
Sometimes I wonder
If shooting stars
Are the santas to our wishes
Or just punishment to men.
Shooting stars,so seldom, so rare,
Are believed to be the core of our prayers.
However, whenever a star passes by,
A man on earth is judged by the stars.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 5:16 AM UTC
blip bleep beep boop
santas gonna watch me sleep
slip sleep seep soap
mommy wants to have a feast
avocados, bathrooms, teaspoons, menthol breath
so very special to watch you seek
bread, seven elevens, toilet paper, adjectives
the way you'd never see.
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 2:57 AM UTC
Star
on the top
of a Christmas tree.
Lights all around are sparkling.
Smells of hot cocoa and cinnamon too,
all of this leading my mind straight to you.
Love in the air, so hard to resist.
Singing of songs is so hard to miss, and
being so close to the people you love, makes
everything seem to glow from above.
But, nothing's the same without peppermint
canes, or chocolate Santas, or a warm fireplace,
or the breath of a child as they play in the snow,as
they're building a snowman, and their eyes start to glow.
Then night
comes so
soon and
the house is
so quiet, then
children go to
bed, though
they're really
so excited.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
ere body ere where
christmas lights erewhere
but for a reggae mon like me,
not a care in de world
erey body watchin Christmas movies
me in de basement smokin doobies
erey yungin mailin santas ouse
de only ting we want from santa
is a sled full of jamacan ganga
trees in ere bodys windows
me smoke me tree for christmas
no fancy decoration required
me gettin tired of christmas already
me just guna smoke till me lungs feel heavy
ereybody wants it to snow
me hopin for some good smoke
de christmas spirit is in de air
me listenin to reggae comin me hair
dis is christmas for a reggae mon
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 8:44 AM UTC
santa lost his boots on a christmas night
they were somewhere hidden completely out of sight
he searched around his grotto and uderneath the tree
looking for his boots to see where they could be
then he heard a knock on the grotto door
there was santas boots lying on the floor
now santa had his boots and mounted on his sleigh
took out all his presents to deliver christmas day
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
i will make a potion,
and put it in your drink,
you will loose your motion,
you will stop to think!
i will take you home,
and put you on my shelf,
i have to do it all alone,
cuz santas elfs won't help!
i tried to talk to you
but you didn't want me there
now i have to nacrotize you
to get you to care!
i asked santa for you
but he didn't seem to care
i wass good all year too,
but that got me nowhere!
now i'll put you to sleep,
in a blink of an eye,
you'll be mine to keep,
for the end of the time!
so let's celebrate tonight,
for the best year yet to be,
as you sleep in decorative lights,
marry christmas to me!
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC
A la Humanidad
ELENA RAMOS
Ciertamente todos buscamos lo mismo
Poder, Dinero y Fama
Ser mejor para ser escuchados por todos
Tener dinero para poder comprar a todos
Y tener fama para ser reconocidos por todos
No podemos pretender ser supremos ante civilizaciones a las cuales somos exactamente iguales
Tenemos rasgos distintos, dialectos variados pero
Al final somos iguales
Esperamos un desastre para poder unirnos
Uno en el cual tengamos miedo de morir y ser derrotados por fuerzas mayores
Talvez debamos esperar ese fenómeno que cambie a la humanidad
Algo que jamás hayan podido ver nuestros ojos
Un desastre natural que acabe con todos
Una plaga que nos destruya lentamente
En la humanidad hay mucha corrupción, hay desastres creados por nosotros
Hay guerras santas, hay asesinatos planeados
Porque?
Por poder, dinero y fama
Somos invencibles en nuestras mentes, pero que pasa si afuera de nuestra visión
Hay algo más grande que todos juntos
Una fuerza invencible, un poder sobrenatural que en cualquier momento decida destruirnos
Talvez sea suerte o sea el destino
Si decidimos separarnos a diario
Si creamos más violencia
Si hay más separación de naciones
Si hay más hambre
Más infestaciones, más personas mueren a diario
Es inevitable es un proceso natural del hombre
Pero, aceptémoslo más muertes son causadas por nosotros mismos.
Soy tan humana como todos ustedes
Es un acto de paz y un pacto de unidad
La raza humana pierde su escencia
De ser capaces de analizar y ser luz
Somos ciegos y egoístas
Un ego que saciar
Un espíritu que alimentar
A base de mentiras, engaños y sacrificios
Ser pobre o rico
Tener todo o ser nada
Ver morir pero no actuar
Decidimos sentarnos a ver lo que pasa
Pero porque no somos parte del espectáculo mejor?
Organizaciones a diario luchan por cambiar el mundo
Fotos de acontecimientos que impactan un rato
Después son desechos que olvidamos por lujos y mentiras
El humano se convirtió en el monstruo más grande que deberíamos temer
Esa sencillez de aceptar el fracaso
Inhumanos ante las crisis de los demás
Muertes por ganas de poder
Muertes por religión y creencias
Si crees en algo, créelo
Pero
Piensa si va en contra de ti y de tu generación
Dos bandos iguales peleando por ser más notorio
Sangre derramada para demostrar grandeza
Lujos para despilfarrar
Lugares hermosos que son destrozados
El hábitat humana dejo de ser para los humanos
Nos convertimos en cosas materialistas
Sin propósitos de vida
Luchemos para ser iguales
Sin distinción de raza, **** religión, política...
Constantemente decimos eso
Pero realmente se cumple?
Si eres humano y lees esto
Piensa que estás haciendo en este momento
Estas cambiado para bien a tu humanidad?
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 11:03 PM UTC
Sugar ***** the ribbon but feel free to wear the bow.
Hey who turned off the lights.
It's much more fun to get in touch with your feelings in the dark if ya didnt know.
Forget the missletoe lets ***** under the tree.
Why it's a holiday **** in times square.
Yeah thats feels awsome but im not sure if that was you or me.
Im in the spirt pass the Jack and let's play hide the yule log
every Santa loves a ** ** **
Let's make the naughty list for a couple of years in one night.
Sugar yes Santas happy to see ya if ya didnt know.
Ring goes the bell, no dude im getting laid so I could care less what ya got.
ten grams for the ****** and for my stoners one pound of ***
It's the time for giving sugar and ya no they say it's better to give than recive.
No wonder Santa's so dam happy if only ever day was Christmas Eve.
No need to hang that stocking cause something else is gonna get stuffed tonight.
Why miss Santa in that dress the elves can almost see your Reindeer.
yes kids i know im not right.
Its a party for two no shirt or shoes required
Deck the halls hey why not invite your sister holly.
It's playtime at the north pole hell no wonder this ***** elf is so Jolly.
On ya little hampsters we must go.
Hey its more than just snow that does blow.
Yes holidays are hell well for most sure spike the punch
i'll pass on the cookie.
Forget the gifts cause all i want is some holiday nookie.
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 5:04 PM UTC
Gunmetal Christmas socks pulled
past the calf like go-getter high school
girls "rocking" rainbow ******** below
the belt loops. I never went a day
without seeing short shorts and socks
replacing pant legs with a gap at the knee
to breathe. Downplay X-mas with black
jeans thinning 'bove the knees. I guess
it's payback for all the surly Santas
paid per nervous child lapdance
that got ******* out of $1.50
because I walked away.
For all the St. Nicks breathing pressurized
bourbon on little kids' wishlists.
Thread through a burgundy belt frayed
by the buckle teeth. And I'm sure this is really
burgundy, probably the only burgundy I never
questioned much, unless the manufacturer's
lying to me. Unless it's really a flexible case
for wild circuits and tiny open mics in bars
going on 'round the clock. Not just Tuesdays.
Fiber optics around my waist transmitting
telephone transmissions and cybernetic ****
monitoring my hips and what my **** does.
And my thoughts; they're ******* taking
my thoughts. Precious poetry lines lost
to the scarcity of pens in my car, when I'll
shave next, whether or not I want a burr grinder,
if I'll break glasses at work and have to drink
the glitters like iced tea from the hardwood floor.
Maybe I'll cut my gums. Maybe my tongue'll
become a chandelier butterfly and carry
me to Coudersport or Elmira or Nowhere
to watch pregnant teenagers push flat-tire
shopping carts heroin-shaking in the newborn
section. Their babies are spitting up Gerber plans
Mom has never considered. Baby's just a rock rolling
down the birth canal that may someday end up
a boulder in a state park.
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
this is my facebook
real facebook
instead of connecting with fake friends for numbers
i'm connecting with friends i never knew i had
people here pick me up when i'm sad
a community that breaks hoplessness and fads
a place where beauty doesn't mean perfect
my facebook is right here with everybody
theres no santas list
everybody has been naughty
and i don't put my life on display
i display my feelings
because no matter what
i know you won't judge
so i'll be the first to say
i love you facebook
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
HANDMADE CHRISTMAS
Do you remember back when
Christmas was making things
Out of stiff colored paper
Like chains of slim paper rings
That were so long we took them
And wrapped the a few times
Around the tree as pretty trim?
We made angels and snowflakes
From something called shirt boards;
Cutouts covered with aluminum foil.
They didn’t need extension cords.
And Mom showed us how to starch
String we dyed. We wrapped it
Around some inflated balloons.
When each dried, we popped it.
We made reindeers and Santas
Our of wooden clothespins
With pipe cleaner antlers or
Cotton beards for Santa’s chin.
Mom dyed an old sheet green
For under the Christmas tree.
Prettier than the store-bought kind
It has always seemed to me.
In school we made Gifts too
Things knitted or made of clay
To give to Mom wrapped up
With great pride on Christmas Day.
And that wrapping paper was
Was all Christmas color tissue.
It was inexpensive to buy, so
Using a lot was not an issue.
Some gifts were appreciated
Some maybe not as much
But in every case, we were
For the most part very touched.
You knew for sure just by looking
What care and love went into
The handmade presents that were
Made totally and especially for you.
Brent Kincaid
12/12/2015
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 6:39 AM UTC
All day and all night,
No darkness nor light.
a world without nothing seems interesting enough,
with no light at night it gets kinda rough.
we fight for our food and freedom too,
We fight for our friends and family we do.
every day a person dies,
Being filled in with these horrible lies.
what did we do to deserve this?
were we bad on Santas naughty list?
its time my friends its time we are Free,
its time to let go and Be who we be.
lets stand together and face them all,
for cowards in the end Will always fall.
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC
What I want for christmas dont fit under that
tree.
Cause it dont involve to much shopping.
Just very little clothes a warm bed and you and me.
You can warp yourself in a bow.
Well share some special holiday cheer.
Over the bed is the perfect place to hang the misletoe.
What I want my dear ya dont have to buy.
Have Ibeen good all year.
Well honey I did try.
Why miss claus I never knew you shopped at
fredricks of holywood.
Spike that eggnog turn down the lights.
we'll try to keep it a silent night
but I dont think we could.
Baby I want the same pressent every year
and for that matter why not every day?
Im just in the holiday spirt what can I say.
Yes from santa I expect a lump of coal.
Makes me wonder why santas so jolly.
Hey I wonder do they gotta strip club at the north pole?
What I want for christmas is a bottle of wild turkey
and you in my bed.
Yes it's more like the ******* mansion.
Than sugar blums dancing in my head.
So my wish for this christmas to yours and you.
keep these holidays happy instead of crazy pulling
out your hair listening to Elvis singin bout a christmas
so blue.
Dec 14, 2009
Dec 14, 2009 at 5:59 AM UTC
Mujeres heridas
Mujeres rotas
Mujeres violadas
No me dan
Dame las santas
Dame las perfectas
Dame las inocentes
Tocadas no sean
Tráigame vírgenes
Tráigame niñas
Tráigame flores
¿Dónde están?
No hay mujer
Que no ha sido tocada
De alguna manera
Tocadas todas están.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
Amid the millions of snow drops falling from the sky, she awaits reaching home to be with her family on Christmas Day. Her thick coat of fur kept her warm, and her excited beating heart comfy. She turns the key and swings the door open, letting a draft in. "I'm home!" She shouts and happy screams erupt, along with the pitter patter of feet as people run towards the door. She is greeted by her family, with many hugs and kisses. She hangs the coat up and joins them at the dinner table.
A candle-lit feast with delicious roasted turkey and meat of all kinds. She notes that there are at least three different kinds of cheese and an assortment of vegetables and also colorful desserts. The atmosphere was lovely, and laughter filled the air. She ate slowly, relishing every flavor of goodness she tasted. The plates that adorned the table were soon empty in a matter of hours and bellies were filled.
She sat in front of the tree, with beautiful lights in neon colors, and snow angels on every other branch. This was true happiness to her. Shiny baubles and adorable Santas also put a smile on her face. But, the star. Oh that star. It reigned supreme at the crown of the tree, brighter than any other star she'd seen in the night sky. It fueled the Christmas spirit in the house, banishing all negativity. She looked at the foot of the tree, and there they were, carefully wrapped in the prettiest wrapping paper one could ever find. There were designs of the world map, and some others of animals and mythical creatures. They made presents extra special. The family soon joined her, delicately removing the wrappers of their presents. Each sent shivers down spines and initiated a mass hugging session and gratitude. She watched as everyone thanked each other for their lovely gifts, before heading back to the hall to continue with celebrations. She realized that she hasn't yet opened hers and picked up the remaining presents with her name in cursive. Slowly opening each of them, she folded the wrapping papers neatly in a pile beside her. Every one of the presents was specially chosen for her: a book on the universe, a unicorn statue, a top adorned with tiny suns and the most precious of all, a book of photos of the ocean. She loved them, and went to embrace her family members again and thanked them dearly for the presents.
She loved Christmas, but it was ending soon. She said a silent prayer, thanked the stars in her heart and started taking the decorations down one by one.
(lunarlullubies)
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 9:48 AM UTC
Christmas comes and goes,
There is a lot of buying and selling,
Malls become alive with Santas, reindeers and elves.
They say Jesus was born around this time,
Thus, the birth of hope, love and some say Son of God.
We are funny like that,
We equate the celebration of the birth of goodness with
Spending as much money as possible,
And God help those who don’t have enough.
We teach our kids about gift giving and asking for the best
And behaving themselves for the ultimate aim of some present at the end of the year.
It doesn’t matter I guess in the end,
We’re human and allowed to portray our weakness and ignorance
After all, who cares if,
Down the block, in the ghetto, the baby is still crying,
Why even the three kings, are still just watching.
Some higher power thought we’d make a difference
He even sent his angels to help
But we as humans and prone to err
Have taken a humble birth and have turned it
into a billion dollar money making industry,
Churches abound with seemingly happy people
While the baby in the manger, still stays crying.
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 9:26 AM UTC
'TWAS THE MORNING OF CHRISTMAS
AND THE WORLD WAS CONCERNED
NO GIFTS WERE DELIVERED
WE WOKE UP AND LERARNED
WHAT HAPPENED TO SANTA?
WHY DID HE NOT COME
THE PARENTS WERE WORRIED
THEY WERE FEELING QUITE GLUM
HE'D NEVER FORGET US
ON PURPOSE, THEY SAID
PERHAPS SOMETHINGS HAPPENED
PERHAPS SANTAS DEAD
THIS SURE COULDN'T HAPPEN
OUR DEAR SANTA DIE
WHEN THE WORLDS CHILDREN HEARD THIS
THEY ALL STARTED TO CRY
ALL THIS WATER IS RISING
AND IT'S GETTING QUITE HIGH
THEY SAT AND THEY THOUGHT
THAT THERE MUST BE A REASON
THAT ST. NICK PASSED US BY
DURING THIS CHRISTMAS SEASON
PERHAPS WE'VE FORGOTTEN
WHAT CHIRSTMAS IS FOR
IT'S FOR LOVING EACH OTHER
NOT JUST SHOPPING IN STORES
PERHAPS SANTA THOUGHT
THAT THE WORLD HAD GONE BAD
WE MUST ALL HEAD OUT NORTHWARD
TO THE POLE WE MUST GO
WE;LL TELL WE'RE SORRY
HEL'LL BELIEVE US , I KNOW
WE'LL HEAD OUT DIRECTLY
BEFORE THIS DAY ENDS
WE;LL HEAD OUT TOGETHER
AND WE'LL MAKE OUR AMENDS
IT TOOK 14 HOURS TOGET TO HIS HOUSE
WE KNOCKED ON THE DOOR
AND WE SPOKE TO HIS SPOUSE
WE TOLD HER WE'RE SORRY
AND WE'LL TRY TO BE GOOD
WHEN BEHIND HER CAME SANTA
HE WAS DRESSED WITH A HOOD
HE SAID "THANK YOU FOR COMING"
"I COMMITTED THE SIN..."
"MY ALARM CLOCK IS BROKEN...
"AND I GUESS I SLEPT IN!"
Jun 3, 2012
Jun 3, 2012 at 5:27 PM UTC
Siento el peso de este mundo en mi cabeza. Y no sé si en algún momento de mi vida fui.
Si viviera yo en una edad oscura, si obedeciera yo a un ínclito rey, a una palabra suprema, al poder de dios, entonces yo caminaría en el relieve bajo el mar. Y sería perfecta porque existiría para pelear guerras santas y salvar vírgenes raptadas.
Sería perfecta y no tendría miedo.
Estaría yo forjada desde el principio con una lanza en la mano y el yelmo en la cabeza. Sería un caballero de ilustres tierras, de ilustres logros.
Los tiempos modernos, sin embargo, me han despojado de un destino glorioso.
No tengo nada más que incertidumbre. No tengo un nombre que sea mío. No poseo títulos ni tesoros ganados.
No soy nada más que una armadura vacía. Y el paso del tiempo me oxida las articulaciones.
¿A dónde pueden huir las almas guerreras? ¿A qué rey acudo para prometerle fidelidad?
No hay aspiraciones nobles en este mundo. Me tengo que armar de pedazos rotos, de rituales inútiles. Mi escudo es un libro de hojas muy blandas. Mi vestido es de hilos muy ligeros. Jamás he visto vestíbulos de grandes castillo, jamás he añorado el amor de una hermosa señora, jamás he clavado flechas en el corazón de un dragón.
¿Qué soy entonces?
Si no soy lo que quiero, ¿qué es esto que respira y que duele y que se lastima los nudillos de las manos de tanto golpear las puertas?
Las puertas no abren. No sé si algún día abrirán. Mis sueños están formados con la intención de atravesarlas. Mis manos están hechas para esgrimar famosas espadas.
Y no tengo nada. Y no tengo nada que no sea invisible.
La armadura que soy yo no es nada más que la promesa de la armadura. Y mi voz metálica es la promesa de la voz.
Y no sé yo si soy.
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 2:49 PM UTC
tis time
said the elf in my ear
tis my time of year
unpack the baubles
the lights,
tinsel
and gear
the merryest of merry
times is near
said I to the elf
get back on tne shelf
nay get back in that box
good gosh and begorrah
calm down your striped socks
it is five in the a.m.
December the 1st
said the elf, in my ear
I know the time
I let you sleep a whole
four hours and 59 nine minutes
over the strike of my first happy day
so now
get your great *** into gear
this is the only time I see
the otherside of the box
after months locked down
so get it together mother dear
hang the lights
and let them twinkle
place the tree and
smell the pine needles
and the faint
odour of cat ******
watch them as they shed
hang the baubles that sit
differently to how they
looked in your head
throw tinsel at that sucker
till it glows and shimmers
knowing that stuff gets every where
even into the cats stomach and bed
bring on the cheer ,bring on the glee
bring out the angels, the santas, and me
start buying presents
and wrapping them furtively
have the discussions about
what to buy for those less near
buy the cheap and nasty, or
the credit card dear
buy the simple or make the stuff
or simply divert payments to next year
as if we mostly don't have
more than enough
remember those gone and those left behind
keep them close to heart and to mind
think of those with out resource or recourse
make some adjustments in order to be kind
and give away joy to some you don't know
could well become their reason to stay ...not go
come on said the elf it is time we began
got to get ready, spread a little love accross
your patch of this land, don't be a grinch,
a scrooge or sadsack, you gotta have
the big jolly-mans back
and while we are here
conversing and such
remember the reason
for all this fuss,
doesn't matter,
the religon, the caste
or the creed..
as this time approaches
take moments to reflect
upon this years closing
and hope with joy
and no fear
for love to conquer all
in the future year
said I to the elf
yammering away in my ear
well said young chap
time to get on my good cheer
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 4:09 PM UTC
When two Santas
Enter a room
Things can get
Ruthless
Dec 12, 2021
Dec 12, 2021 at 1:29 AM UTC
They crush your dreams
To better themselves.
Given the credit
Of Santas elves.
They bar the windows,
And they lock all the doors.
They call the men deliquents,
And they label women ******
Into this world we're thrown
In a direction without our choice.
Whats the point of speaking
When you havent got a voice.
They sit you row by row,
And they all pretend to care.
But as soon as they know your secret
All they can do is stare.
Art is for the artistans,
And the music is for the gifted.
Dont try, you'll never do it,
Anything but keep you lifted.
Before Im in the coffin
And they hammer the last nail.
I'll get out with good behavior,
And then I'll go back to jail.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 10:55 AM UTC
Se bebe el desayuno... Húmeda tierra
de cementerio huele a sangre amada.
Ciudad de invierno... La mordaz cruzada
de una carreta que arrastrar parece
una emoción de ayuno encadenada!
Se quisiera tocar todas las puertas,
y preguntar por no sé quién; y luego
ver a los pobres, y, llorando quedos,
dar pedacitos de pan fresco a todos.
Y saquear a los ricos sus viñedos
con las dos manos santas
que a un golpe de luz
volaron desclavadas de la Cruz!
Pestaña matinal, no os levantéis!
¡El pan nuestro de cada día dánoslo,
Señor...!
Todos mis huesos son ajenos;
yo talvez los robé!
Yo vine a darme lo que acaso estuvo
asignado para otro;
y pienso que, si no hubiera nacido,
otro pobre tomara este café!
Yo soy un mal ladrón... A dónde iré!
Y en esta hora fría, en que la tierra
trasciende a polvo humano y es tan triste,
quisiera yo tocar todas las puertas,
y suplicar a no sé quién, perdón,
y hacerle pedacitos de pan fresco
aquí, en el horno de mi corazón...!
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