A Xmas Poem

Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore who wrote the poem "A visit from St Nicholas".

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
Ray hung his stockings by the chimney with care,
In hopes that a loose woman soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of gold nuggets danced in their heads;
And Ray in his nightie and a lacey pink cap,
Had just settled our brains then he went for a crap

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new risen sun,
Gave a lustre of midday to my brand new gun,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
Ray flat on his face holding a carton of beer,

With a little old knowledge so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he was a drunken prick
More rapid than eagles his cursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Flasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Vomit! on, Cupid! on, Der toilet  and Shitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now get away from me, I’ve had enuff of ya’s all !"

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the cursers they flew
Here comes Ray with his carton “Let me thru”

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little Poof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Here comes Ray, don’t bend down

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with vomit and poop;
A bundle of booze he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a beggar and he was scratching his    plumbers accessory

His eyes how they twinkled! his dimples, were merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
He drooled from the mouth his smile like a bow
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;

The crust of a pie he held tight in his teeth,
And the gravy it oozed down to his feet
He had a broad face and a big round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
He opened the carton and showed how cans work
And placing his finger up inside of his nose,
He gave a quick nod and over he goes

He sprang to his feet, to his taxi he gave a whistle,
And away he flew with his pie, gravy and gristle
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight—

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Cliff the Alternative Santa
Apologies to Roger McGough the writer of the poem “alternative Santa”.

I’m fed up looking like Father Christmas,
I said to myself this year
I need a new outfit, I must move with the times
So for a start, I’m drinking more beer

So I googled Alternative Santas
And was amazed at the stuff that appeared
I got rid of my holly-red costume
Had a haircut, and shaved off my beard NOT

Spent my days in front of a computor
In a cave made from empty beer cans
Wearing a tee shirt emblazoned f##k Off Xmas
And shorts made in China by hand

Couldn’t wait to work on my new xmas toy
(The bargain I’d bought on eBay)
A lovely little thing, so pink and thin
And fits right in my hand

Then one morning I thought, 'Oh why bother
Delivering cards and visiting friends
When all I gotta do is get online
Busy people will understand

We are lucky to live in a digital age
Where the aim is access and speed
SantaNet I’ll call the system
'Santafaction guaranteed’

And that was years and years ago
Times that children barely know (just as well)
Midnight booze and taxi’s home
Carol at Xmas by candle glow
Last drinks bell ringing thru the smokey glow
And I get kicked out for singing you're a ho ho ho
For that was years and years ago
And that was years and years ago.

Scroll down past the stars

http://bitsandpieces.us/2010/12/20/12-days-of-christmas-countdown/

Santa Claus Is tapping your phone
A Christmas Poem by Author Unknown

(Sung to The Tune of "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town")

You'd better watch out,
You'd better not cry,
You'd better not pout;
I'm telling you why.
Santa Claus is tapping
Your phone.

He's bugging your room,
He's reading your mail,
He's keeping a file
And running a tail.
Santa Claus is tapping
Your phone.

He hears you in the bedroom,
Surveils you out of doors,
And if that doesn't get the goods,
Then he'll use provocateurs.

So, you mustn't assume
That you are secure.
On Christmas Eve
He'll kick in your door.
Santa Claus is tapping
Your phone!

geez anyone would think u were insecure you old bugger--or maybe u r trying to scare those little kids--yeah that's it..

regards
oneday

Baaah Humbug    
Merry Xmas and I got a feeling it will be   

why u on a promise--don't tell me u nailed a trespasser in the backyard--  

regards
oneday