Christmas is nearly here, time to start accumulating those memories that last the whole year long.

Hapless Christmas.

Jolly merry Christmas again draws near
Filling me with nausea, not good cheer,
For for fifty- one weeks I've slaved away
To pay for last years 'happy' holiday.

I've had miserable luck with lottery draws-
My best bet's on that real long shot Santa Claus,
My kiddies belief on him remains unshaken,
Is it only me the mean old codger's forsaken?

Santa please add me to your delivery list,
Lately I've been the one you've somehow missed,
This good ol' boy has been good, so why is it
You cain't once favour me with a flying visit?

And I need some of your largesse, believe you me
To help me survive the annual spending spree,
Leave me some goodwill when you grace our place,
Say, something crisp and green, in an attache case?

You well know, Santa, the poor year I've had,
The kids were so good, the 'conomy so damn bad,
I asked the boss for a rise, reflexively he resisted,
Hopefully Father Christmas won't be so tight-fisted.

But I  can't complain, though hours and money's down,
Covid's left my once buzzing office like a ghost town,
So one wrong word and my white Christmas turns black,
My Boss would secretly, Santa like, love to gimme the sack.

On Christmas day, shall my offsprings eyes shine?
Happily they will, but not nearly as tearily as mine,
'Cause in this poor house Santa has not yet set foot,
No filled stockings on the fireplace, no trace of soot.

The  gifts arrayed there are the few I've hard bought-
Plus, Walmart saw me coming, bastards sold me short,
Mine eyes will be red and running, my cheeks dripping wet,
Again my no-show Santa will drop me deep in the shi debt.

(One dragged up from the vaults, plus an updated verse- because of the year we've all had.)

©Obbverse

‘Tis the season of jolly carols and yo-ho-ho’s. Oh, but there’s more. The highs and lows of Christmas

Thirteen Days Till Christmas.

(Two people close to my heart
Departed twenty-four hours apart,
So now come every thirteenth of December
I take a shot or two to help me not remember.)

With but a dozen lousy sleeps before Christmas Day
I can count on reminders of two who have passed away,
Today Carey's heart-wringing singing leaves me unenamoured
So I'll  flip Mariah's seasonal CD off and carry on getting hammered.

There's not a solitary sodden year I've let pass
Without solemnly raising my twice charged glass,
Sure, tomorrow todays toasts will leave me sorely troubled;
Now my efforts to forget todays regrets demand to be redoubled. 

(To Chet and Barb. Cheers.)

©Obbverse

Christmas is just around the corner folks, it’s time for our end of year round up. We don’t wanna boast but…

(This began as an entry for Chel Owens A Mused poetry comp but snuck off on me. Again.)

Christmas Catch Ya'll Up. / John Deere Letter.

Hi guys, it's time to keep ya'll in the know,
With the festivities near we've horns to blow,
Folks do tell 'times is hard and the 'conomy's shot'
But we're happy as clams, cause we've got the lot.

Hubby Bubba's gone up yet another pay grade,
He must've sold every pickup truck Jeep made,
The twins is gettin' schooled and topping their class,
We're hopin', with luck they'll scrape a C and even pass!

Cody done won the Jumbo stuffed bear at the tri-county fair,
Took down them three ducks with two rounds to spare,
At the bake sale mah apple pie took out first prize as well,
The only Blue Ribbon you'll stick on this Southern belle.

Our Jolene is playing Virgin Mary in the nativity play,
Their damn Rodeo's ain't playing Joseph, if I have my way-
No mistletoe kisses a'tween Jo Hatfield and Rodeo McCoy,
I sez 'Jolene, you don't have no truck with that bad boy.'

But then that dang new preacher had to up'n speak
'Let's try to forgive and forget, turn the other cheek,'
If I believed that liberal trash I'd be a'wineing at Mass-
This Southern Baptist knows Rodeo's coveting Jolene's ass.

Still, I must say they look good together, they act pretty tight,
They've practised at the Church Hall religiously every night,
Now Jo is a shining star as Mother Mary, positively glowing,
We're praying, when Christmas comes Jo won't be showing.
‘Oh, oh, Sweet child of mine.’

©Obbverse

Counting down the days till Christmas… and beyond. Somehow it kinda feels like holidays already.

Best Presents EVER.

We'll non-too-soon be seeing the end of Trump/Pence
Although Donald insists on living in the past tense,
His denying of fact, lack of tact and simple common sense
Means Don's childish tanTrumps still cause offence.

Forget fighting Covid, Don's focusing on firing off viral comments
And fragging his frazzled looking Secretary of Defence,
Don has sworn- loudly- he'll not spare one single donors expense
On recounting and courting his Supreme justice nonsense.

So though it's early, let's now let our Thanksgivings commence,
On till Christmas Eve fill the air with carols, joy and frankincense,
Then roll on January, when ends a reign of dumb ignorance,
Then we can all look forward to cool calm and quiet competence.




©Obbverse


	

Isn’t Christmas great? I love the tradition, the gathering together of close family, the joyous imbibing. the gross consumption at the groaning table. Ah, good times.

Feastive Season, Festive Air.

That’s another Christmas meal complete,
Once again I’ve had far too much to eat,
Now here I sit, heavily settling in my seat,
Next, the dessert round, but first, the prickly heat.

I swore this year to avoid Ma’s tasty treat
But World Peace demands I keep her sweet,
And as the belt on my pants buckles in defeat-
Same ol’ story as last year, I’m bound to repeat.

 

©Obbverse

How can one capture the rapturous joy of Christmas? Well, one can but try. Anyway, there’s always a warm welcome in my hearth for Santa.

Black Christmas.

On Christmas night as I lay in bed
I heard a heavy groan high overhead
As Santa landed his overladen sled.

I heard him prise up the chimney vent-
I’m sure Santa was filled with good intent
But nowadays Santa is a rather portly gent.

With speed and agility that impressed
He swiftly reached the chimney breast-
There’s where he came to a complete rest.

Santa was stoppered, like a cork,
Face pushed up against the chimney fork
Ooh Santa, that’s no way to talk!

There came a crack up in the smokestack,
Down tumbled Santa, suit sootily black
Landing hard, smack on his Santa sack.

Rising bowed and bloodied from the rubble
The old gent stood, gasped and bent double
So I entrussed him with a gift, for his trouble.

 

©Obbverse

As the big day approaches it’s time wonder if we might get something from our secret Santa? Or ’tis it the season to hark back on folly?

Too Long To List.

Santa’s made his list and closed his book,
On Christmas day naughty boys will vainly look
For all they’ve wanted, but they’ll be looking sad,
Certainly for a certain one who’s been bad- too bad.

That rascal is up at dawn on Christmas day,
He’s been perfectly good… well, in his own way,
Donny looks at his super-sized Christmas stocking,
Flapping on the Mar-a-lago mantle, empty, mocking.

On the stocking is pinned a note,
In explanation Saint Nick kindly wrote:
‘Sorry old son, my limit’s been reached,
Maybe next year, if you ain’t impeached.’

 

©Obbverse

Christmas is a’coming, bring on Kris Kringle, bring on them Christmas carols, ring on those clanking bells…

Clapped Out At Christmas.

Dang, I hadn’t completed my gift shopping after all,
So around our madhouse of a mall I rush pell-mell,
One good thing about our fetid crowded big-ass mall
Is air-conditioning that at least makes this a fresh hell.

Still, that fat-mouthed jolly Santa faintly smells-
A hint, a delicate whiff from his reindeer’s stalls?
Yo, Santa Claus, kindly stow your jingling bells
Cause Kris, I’m apt to break some Christmas balls.

As I pay and walk away my high(?) spirits begin to fall
As I hear the music from the Salvation Army band swell,
Their sadly out-of-tune caroling drove me up the wall
So I’ve decked the halls and two bell-ringers as well.

 

 

©Obbverse

Christmas is coming, get ready for the festivities, the revelries, the tinsel, the happiness, the seasonal joy. Yet amongst the all this sappiness let us retain a memory of Christmas past.

All About The Christmas Presence.

Down at the mall they’ve stuck up the tree,
There’s Christmas carols blaring out repeatedly,
Every jangle from ‘The First Noel’ to ‘Jingle Bells’-
Peace and harmony, at nigh on a hundred decibels.

Belafonte’s belting out ‘The Little Drummer Boy’
Crosby’s ‘White Christmas’ is beginning to annoy,
I know by heart ‘Snoopy’s Christmas’s’ idiot refrain,
And round comes Harry’s pa rum pum pum  again.

Stretched shopping bags are groaning,
Once chatty assistants are monotoning,
In their empty eyes the thousand-yard stare
As you join the queue you share their despair.

Standing in line, time pointlessly expended,
Praying your line of credit isn’t over-extended,
Stuck behind a snotty kid who tromps on your toes;
Wouldn’t you love to give Rudey a bloody red nose?

But

There’s more to Christmas than spending scores in stores
And we’ve lived too long to believe in a jolly Santa Claus,
What would we give to spend some Christmas cheer
With a select few who’ve gone on and left us here?

Premier League letdowns; Tough times for the dogged, game but toothless Terriers of poor Huddersfield Town. Commiserations- of a kind- from a Crystal Palace fan.

Down In Hudddersfield Town.

Huddersfield Town’s future, so bright last June
Finally faded at Crystal Palace this dull afternoon,
It’s bound to be a silent, sad, sombre- and sober- coach trip
As the Terriers head back up North, down to the Championship.

By Xmas, Town knew it was gonna be tough at the top
But it’s a lot rougher when you’re the first team to drop,
To survive in the Premier League is a simple numbers game;
When Town tote up their losses all it amounts to is a crying shame.

If only Huddersfield’s brittle defence had been stronger
Or if their busy goalkeepers arms had been a little longer,
Or if they had a striker- or two- to pop in an occasional winner
The Terriers season mightn’t be finishing up a total dogs dinner.

 

©Obbverse