Following are winter holiday poems that did not place in our Humbug Poetry Contest, but are worth reading all the same. Each has it’s own twist on the holidays. I have noticed a trend in that the poets seem to favor one particular holiday, but that’s okay.
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Humming slumber bug
by Ann Raven
A tasty wench had too much beast for Thanksgiving
barley caught up with turkey tryptophan coma
she studied every “as seen on tv” product
from shaking barbells to bras made of genies
Having Christmas shopping on mind
get something good and get it fast!
Hurry browse online, but don’t get grunky
if the internet buffers to a slow as molasses 1 G.
Humming in attempt to be alert
taste every gingerbread cookie recipe
no guild for the smores
feast on chocolate and ten cup of joe
hummer to a slumber
hum
bug…
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I Knew Mr Bah Humbug
by Kimberly Gray
Bah humbug is not with me this first year
Replaced with stillness and more than one tear
For the first time ever I understand
My ba humbug dad bigger than any man
He completed our festive day with grouchy snarls
Hated tradition and Christmas carols
Ba humbug he’d bark as he lit the lights
Quietly loving the fake outer fight
He passed in February I know humbug
I’d give anything for one more hug
This topic warms me not by fluke I feel
Dad did love Christmas and all for real
Each half hour he’d say his bah humbug and play
We all could laugh knowing he just loved Decembers day
So thank you for call to content
By healing my fears of intent
So I remember my dad and every hug
I shall joyfully end for him bah humbug
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My Trashy Christmas
by Exotic Hippie Queen
The tree is so crooked,
It won’t stand up straight.
It keeps falling over,
I hope Santa is late.
Red stockings are strewn
In a pile on the floor,
Where a pitbull named June
Passes gas as she snores.
Hope Santa is late,
‘Cuz I’m falling behind.
Yeah, Christmas is great,
But I’m losing my mind.
The presents all sit
New, unwrapped in three closets,
While my phone’s blowing up:
My account needs deposits.
Please silence the night,
And undeck the halls,
Then spare me the blight
Of Grammy’s cheeseballs.
Hope Santa is late,
‘Cuz I’m falling behind.
Yeah, Christmas is great,
But I’m losing my mind.
Drink eggnog for lunch!
Eat rumballs for dinner!
They will help me a bunch….
Babe, I’m no Christmas winner.
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HUMBUG
by Jeff Bresee
I can’t stand another year of this
With the sales that start after summer’s bliss
And the songs that play round the clock each day
And the cock-eyed ice and snow
And the ho ho ho’s and the ringing bells
And the wasted time; makes me mad as hell
And crowds that block every road and shop
Every doggone place I go!
No I can’t stand so much as another day
Wish this time of year would just go away
And leave me here to my mansion
Warm and snug
Cuz I’m tired of the groans and the chains that creak
And those three damn ghosts who won’t let me sleep
So to you and them I say…
BAH HUMBUG!
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Woke up Christmas morning, smokeless fireplace cold as ice
by Ruby Fuller
A noise from the kitchen
Turned out to be my Husband and his buddies shooting dice
Empty beer cans stacked to the ceiling, my kids nowhere in sight
I searched all over
Thinking Grandma probably took them overnight
Polly my sweet Parrot, passed out in her cage
Seems Hubby and Buddies gave her too much booze
Causing her to faint in a drunken rage
Hearing a giggle outside the once beautiful decorated door
Seeing my kids playing in the snow, devoid of coats or mittens
Feeling faint as i lowered myself to the floor
Spying a note half slid under the carpet
A note from Santa, saying, ” I can’t do this anymore
I suggest you contact ’ The Salvation Army ’ for the children’s toys this year
God bless the organization, they deserve so much better
To involve them in this debauchery certainly brings an unjolly tear “
Worried, i sat down and reread the kid’s Christmas wish list
Suddenly feeling quite ill, beginning to stutter
Quickly developed an uncontrollable lisp
On the verge of hysteria my mind remembered the Turkey i’d put in the oven to cook slowly overnight
Nervously checking, smoke billowing
What a terrible sickening sight
The shiny tinfoil had opened, Turkey as dry as an old Dog bone
As i pondered what more could possibly happen
I knew without a doubt, i had to be alone
Furiously i cleaned house, i mean not a sound could be heard
Now tenderly stroking Polly
My sweet precious drunken bird
I silently made a vow to regain control of my insane domain
Hoping against all odds
That Santa will want to visit once again.
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Scrooged
by Kevin Harling
Under a barren and sparsely decorated tree
lay three packages.
One small, one medium and one large.
I unwrapped the dust laden parcel from the past, a small
package wrapped in newspaper.
holding it gingerly within my palms as if it was a ghost,
that still haunted me.
A parcel from the past, forgotten, put aside and lingering
like garland running along a bannister filled with cobwebs.
A parcel from the past, dusty and whispering
like a cold wintry wind.
Within, much to my chagrin was a mere note.
A chilling note that laughed mockingly.
It said, and I quote, ” Move onto the Present.”
And so without much further ado, I approached the bundle,
a medium sized box wrapped in red and green
tissue paper.
I must admit the size was endearing and my heart skipped
a beat. I shook it and shook it. But nothing moved within.
I eagerly ripped the paper and clawed my way inside.
A box labelled the present and so it was now.
Both it and me, here and accounted for.
Inside to my surprise was yet another letter.
Neatly folded and printed in fancy bold fonts.
It read and I quote.
“Firstly the past to which you can’t behold
and secondly the present, to which much has been foretold.”
So onward you may proceed onto the future
and all the promise it holds.
Their it lay the biggest of the lot, wrapped in shiny tinsel
the colour of gold. It twinkled and beckoned with
perfectly tied bows. It was hard not to want to hold.
As I picked it up and began to shake it,
a sound could be heard. A strange echoing sound,
a hollow sound. A sound that didn’t feel cold.
With much excitement I began to open it.
Contained within was a small gold envelope
with embossed silver letters.
And without any further ado, this is what it said,
“The past was all your yesterdays, the present right here now,
and the future hasn’t happened yet. Your life is passing by.”
And you have been Scrooged.”
