Friday, December 31, 2010

LETTER TO A FRIEND

I live in southeast Texas. Racism is very much in evidence here, but they try to fool everybody and themselves about it. Many racists would be offended if called out on it, because they won't admit even to themselves how they secretly feel. Many of my favorite people in the world are the civil rights workers of the 50s through the present time.
As a boy, I saw blacks being mistreated and made to use blacks-only facilities. It was common to be eating in a restaurant and see a black person come around back and receive the food and sit outside with it.
In 1968 I went to live in New York City. My boss was a black man, whose parents were from Jamaica. They had fled to New York, because she was marrying a man with much darker skin than hers, and her family was up in arms over it. She was also "black," even though her skin was whiter than mine.
The man, whose name was Vince, wanted me to experience a civil rights event. He bought me a place on the chartered buses reserved by Jesse Jackson. When we arrived that morning, only six other persons, besides Jesse, showed up. One was Flo Kennedy, civil rights lawyer, and some were from a church I forgot the name of.
We rode off to Washington, DC. I sat in one seat alone, immersed in my thoughts, when a voice spoke from the seat behind me.
"Why are you here?"
I saw Jesse looking me in the face, waiting for an answer. I marvelled at how smooth and young he was, almost like a high school kid. I was not precocious in those days. In fact, was an introvert, who in childhood exhibited symptoms of autism.
"I wanted to see how these things work," I replied.
"You're going to see how they work, all right," he said, beaming.
He hesitated to see if I had more to say, but I had exhausted my store of talk with the one sentence. He moved away.
The object of the trip was multiple. First on the agenda, we went to the White House, bearing a tent. We placed it on the grass with the avowed intent to erect it and then paint it black. "The Black House."
Police filled the area, outnumbering us by seven or eight, I would guess, since memory fails here. The women passed out buttons proclaiming the cause. When they approached Vince, he backed away, suddenly frightened. I guess he expected the law to take us to jail if we went too far. His fear communicated itself to me, and I too backed away, feeling ashamed because I wouldn't wear a simple button.
Jesse announced that we had accomplished our goal after about fifteen minutes of negotiations with the police. We left and went to the Lincoln Memorial, where the 1968 Mothers March on Washington, protesting the Vietnam War, was about to get underway.
We fell in behind the people. Senator Percy of Illinois, his secretary fell in beside me.
"I'm here, because my son is over there, and I want him safely home."
She was very pleasant, and she kept trying to convince me I ought to apply at the Smithsonian to be a security guard. At John Kennedy's grave, they made speaches, and then we marched back to the Memorial.
From there, we eight were taken to a prominent black church, I don't know where. The minister was named Floyd McKissik. We waited about a half hour in an outer hall. I don't know where Vince was. I stood on the floor alone, feeling vulnerable. I heard a woman's voice speaking.
"I would like to ask a question." I saw a beautiful young woman, with fire in her eyes. She waited until she had all our attention. She pointed at me. "What's he doing here?"
They all showed by their actions that they were also curious. I was morbidly shy in those times. Feeling as though I might sink into the floor, I forced myself to speak. Stammering, I told how I had come with Jesse and how I was opposed to the war. They mostly smiled with understanding, and the tension melted away.
We went in to listen to Floyd.

"Don't come to our neighborhoods to teach about civil rights," he said. I followed his gaze and saw a sprinkling of white liberals in the pews. "We know about civil rights. Stay in your own neighborhoods and teach. That's where they don't understand about civil rights."
One white man was outraged. "Where does that leave us, after all our years of hard work?"
"If you really are our friend, you will understand."
Jesse cancelled the tour bus and bought train tickets for the journey home. As we boarded the coach, Ms Kennedy handed us each a Sunday paper. Our White House Adventure, had gotten us a small square at the bottom on page one.
That was my first experience in both civil rights and war protest actions. Not my last, by any means. One of the great lessons I learned that day was, as Floyd McKissick pointed out, "Teach civil rights in your own neighborhood, where they need it the most." And I have, in my own small way. When a person acts through predjudice in my sight, I make it known that their behavior is unacceptable. I teach by personal example. I have no status in the community, but my associates all know where I stand.
Sorry for such a long letter. I was seized by the moment.

EBENEZER'S GHOST, a work of fiction, by Edgar Blythe

EBENEZER'S GHOST may be purchased throughout the year. While most are not inclined to read holiday fare beyond the traditional season, it would seem a good idea to have it on hand by the time it arrives, rather than be a procrastinator. It will be at least a few years before the movie; might as well buy a copy to read.


This story is written in a style that mimics the Victorian novels of old, without being so wordy, yet set in the early 21ST Century. It is a tale of misguided revenge, a tale of a close-knit family, and it tells of Ebenezer Scrooge, Ambassador of Christmas, working with Santa Claus to undo the damage caused by Rocky Molebanner.
http://www.lulu.com/charlesturner

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Copyrighted Lyrics

#1

Moon-Amber Nights

That moon-amber night
That we fell down in the field
I held you so tight
That our souls just had to yield
You started to shiver
Like ripples on the river
But our hearts were full
And we were both so very warm
chorus
v2
The words that you breathed
Were works of passion I craved
Your lovely breast heaved
As all the ripe grain stalks waved
The thrush barely sleeping
River warily seeping
Our hearts were beating
Like two boats in a storm
Chorus
We were
Brave summer lovers
Always off together
Scorning the others
Interlocked forever
We hid in the shadows
Made love ‘neath the willows
Always riding the storm
The talk of her father’s farm
v3
Yes we counted every star
Gathered ‘em up like fireflies
Stuffed inside a jar
Too in love to realize
Young hearts will be broken
Keep mine as a token
But tonight my love
We shall not be forlorn
chorus
v4
Those moon-amber nights
Can last into the winter
With all of our might
We continue to be tender
The cold makes us shiver
Burning now with fever
As our hearts grow dull
I’m to leave your father’s farm
chorus
Walks of Peace

All the wars eventually
Must fall before Walks of Peace
Walks of Peace, Walks of Peace
Must fall before Walks of Peace

I dreamed I went with MLK
On a rare and fateful day
As he strolled along with me
We journeyed back through history

We saw all the wars of race
Wars of countries, even faith
He declared these wars all must cease
Folks must be troops for Walks of Peace

Yes the wars eventually
Must fall before Walks of Peace
Walks of Peace, Walks of Peace
Must fall before Walks of Peace

As Martin said, Don’t be deceived
All of these wars are wars of greed
Its up to us these wars must cease
Folks must be troops for Walks of Peace

Mexico Linda

Mexico Linda
Can you come out today
We'll sit on your veranda
And watch the children play
We'll sip tequila
And talk about old days
Good times before policia
Took your love away
Oh our good days are all over
So we only talk about the past
If we both were much younger
When our lives were such a blast
Mexico Mexico Mexico Linda
Mexico Mexico Mexico Linda
Our lives were such a blast
Mexico Linda
Your lover was a man
First one at the corrida
Last one when others ran
Loved the fiesta
Lazy autumn days
Good times before policia
Took him dead away
Oh our good days are all over
So we only talk about the past
If we both were much younger
Our lives were such a blast
Mexico Linda
The breeze is soft and warm
If you'd like let's linger
Won't do us any harm
We'll finish our tequila
And dream about old days
Help me turn my wheelchair
From sun's burning rays
Oh our good days are all over
So we only talk about the past
If we both were much younger
When our lives were such a blast
Mexico Mexico Mexico Linda
Mexico Mexico Mexico Linda
Our lives were such a blast

All across this wicked land
Shadows crawling from the sun
No drop of water for our tongues
Half crazy steers a bawling
Cattle drive stumbling through the draw
Buzzards circling way down low
"If you're going to die just let us know
We'll catch you as you're falling"
And a band of reckless riders
Shouting as they top the rim
Hands filled with iron and faces grim
"We'll have that herd you cowboys"
Curley reaches for his iron
A round of bullets drops him down
Herd gets spooked by the thunderous sound
"It's the Jamboree, you cowboys"
All across this wicked land
Nothing like a cow stampede
You can follow You can't lead
We turn our hearts to Texas
All across this wicked land
As the rustlers chase the herd
We chase the mockingbird
All the way home to Texas
So ride the wind back to Texas, boys
On the scent of gun smoke & blood.
Ride the wind back to Texas,
Through the lead rain & the mud.
Ride it hard back to Texas
Last five lines were written by my son. - edgarblythe
Go Home, Don Quixote

Don Quixote`s in the parlor
Stiffly in his armor
He doesn`t want your tea
Says he vainly fought some giants
But has no complaints
"It was a day`s work for me"
I told him, "Crazy little punk
You`re a fool for all that spunk
Why not go home, you`re tired now
That lame old horse is dying
And Sancho Panza`s crying
Please release me from my vow"
Don Quixote Donkeyxote
de la Mancha
Tired of your mantra
Go on home Don Quixote

All the world is a minefield
And you`re going to have to yield
Go along now take to your bed
You don`t know cows from great monsters
Citadels from dumpsters
Your impossible dreams have fled
Dulcinea the simpleton
Has reduced you to a crumb
And your lance has become a crutch
I know you`re a pious man
But you`ve stood your final stand
You`re like a van without a clutch


Don Quixote Donkeyxote
de la Mancha
Tired of your mantra
Go on home Don Quixote
Reflection Song

It’s sometimes a hard road, ain’t it son?
And a long old way until the race is won
Sometimes you’re tired
‘N’ sometimes you’re wired
‘N’ I hope you sometimes have some fun
Remember it’s not just feathered wings makes a bird to fly
It’s knowing he’s ready makes him even try
If at first he falls
The bird recalls
The thrill he felt as he’s soaring through the sky
And sometimes when it seems you’re all alone
Turn around I’m cheering from my paternal zone
Though words might fail
May love prevail
If not this brass ring then another one
Remember it’s not just feathered wings makes a bird to fly
It’s knowing he’s ready makes him even try
If in flight he stalls
The bird recalls
The thrill and soon he’s soaring through the sky
I’m not the parent you might have had
In every family’s some good and then some bad
Be your own man
And not your old man
Set your own terms and make both of us glad
After all it’s not just feathered wings makes a bird to fly
It’s knowing he’s ready makes him even try
He soars over walls
However tall
The thrill and the knowing as he’s soaring through the sky
Children of the Ward

is my final somewhat autobiographical one, to date. It was written in the same cadence as Bob Dylan's Every Grain of Sand.

I watch the children playing,
See them dancing in the yard.
Preserve the words they..re saying,
Like a fancy Christmas card.
The moments that betray them
Are the moments caught off guard;
Yet the dragons cannot slay them,
Not these children of the ward.
I hear their mothers calling
As they empty out the yard,
Echoing their footsteps,
Like bells tolling in my heart.
I gaze upon the portrait
Of my brother who..s been gone:
Time itself cannot prorate
The memory and the song.
To see you I would kiss you;
And give hugs until you groan.
Mama..s off to find you,
I must go it all alone -
I..ve been across some borders,
To describe my private hell;
In deep and shallow waters,
Like a bucket in a well.
Each story has an anchor;
Yes I dragged mine through the bay;
I was lucky just to find her,
Fortunate she went my way.
The sun is like a prism:
See it straining through the glass.
My mind..s not like a prison;
I..m no prisoner to the past.
There..s a beauty in the foment,
And a rage to top the crest;
Got to have myself a moment,
So I..m ready for the rest.


Blue Texas Morning on a Lone Star Road
A Blue Texas Morning that tells me how far I’ve drove
All the way down from Denver is a lonesome ride
Til I see bluebonnets blooming on every side
Blue Texas Morning, blue as my sweetheart’s eyes
Blue as my heartbreak, blue as the Texas skies
Blue as Texas hillsides, blue as those Texas fields
It’s a Blue Texas morning that my sight reveals
Got a Blue Texas Angel and she’s pining for me
She’s blue as the willow and I am going to see
My true Texas lady to let my heart reveal
Then she’s gonna know how this lonesome cowboy really feels
There’s dewdrops on the mountains, dewdrops in my eyes
I’m gonna smile like the sunshine over her surprise
Cause when I top the next hill I’m gonna see her face
Gonna lose my sadness in that Angel’s embrace

Blue Texas Morning, blue as my sweetheart’s eyes
Blue as my heartbreak, blue as the Texas skies
Blue as Texas hillsides, blue as Texas fields
It’s a Blue Texas morning that my sight reveals
 

The End of a Circle
 

When you reach the end of the circle
You’ll be the same as you began
It’s there the baby in the cradle
Becomes one with the dying man

Every life move is quicksilver
A stream that has no bed
You meet the riddle with no answer
A hunger that must be fed

But
Before you reach the end of the circle
Gather roses if you can
Join friends in a chain of circles
Celebrate the brotherhood of man

Every life move is quicksilver
A stream that has no bed
You meet the riddle with no answer
A hunger that must be fed

And: No matter what you do
When you reach the end of a circle
You'll be the same as you began
Where the baby in the cradle
Becomes one with the dying man



 
When I woke up this morning
I had just one hour on my bed
When I got up this morning
Feeling like I was almost dead
When I got dressed this morning
I looked down at my wife and I said

I got the Maintenance Man Blues this morning
Don..t expect no kiss good-bye
Because I ain..t never been quit working
To tell you good-bye would be a lie
I spent last night bailing water
Cause the water tank it broke
I spent last night moving furniture
Cause it all so water soak
I spent last night pulling carpet
While the resident screaming like to croak
I got the Maintenance Man Blues this morning
Don..t expect no kiss good-bye
Because I ain..t never been quit working
To tell you good-bye would be a lie
I got to paint six apartments
While changing air condition machine
I got to make ready those apartments
While making swimming pool clean
I got to even shampoo those apartments
Why the boss man so doggone mean
That..s why I got the Maintenance Man Blues this morning
So don..t expect no kiss good-bye
Because I ain..t never been quit working
To tell you good-bye would be a big fat lie



Never claims to be a victim
Never becomes a hero
He's the kind that just goes from one
To being a zero
Living in the cracks of society
Where riot troops roam the streets
He turns works of art from refuse
Which he hides from everyone he meets
Never rides in rush hour traffic
Absent from daily roll calls
He may or may not smoke a j
But he offers anyone that calls
Never claims to be a victim
Never becomes a hero
He's the kind that just goes from one
To being a zero
Dirt water blonde knock upon the door
Fresh from a week on the streets
He lets the girl have the bedroom floor
She finishes off all of his eats
They walk the sidewalks just looking
He's got his pack on his back
They gather up all they can find
Yes and that's a natural fact
Never claims to be a victim
Never becomes a hero
He's the kind that just goes from one
To being a zero
He pays tribute to Vincent van Gogh
While living most like Rimbaud
Sometimes he smells a little bit ripe
Most times he hides from the mirror
He does a funny little dance
He does it only for her
He laughs when she gives him a smile
He wants her for a lover
Never claims to be a victim
Never becomes a hero
He's the kind that just goes from one
To being a zero
Your Life

This is the latest edition of your life
Another tale to be told or sung
It's like my favorite version of them all
The hero's entirely too young
for you
Each new chapter has you with your friends
And I'm waiting home all alone
And so missing your voice and the songs you sing
Wondering what I did that's so wrong
Tell me Tell me Tell me
You were my hero
Yesterday
Tell me Tell me Tell me
What did I know
anyway
I couldn't wait six months for the paperback
Hard cover cost thirty bucks
Took it home read it through a sleepless night
My heart ran over by thirty trucks
I read about the way you like em tall and blond
Lookin like a movie star
Movin club to club all around the town
In your so famous touring car
Tell me Tell me Tell me
You were my hero
Yesterday
Tell me Tell me Tell me
What did I know
Anyway
Waiting for you to crash and burn one final time
Your body lying at my door
All your friends have left you for a brighter star
You begging to sleep on my floor
Waiting until your burning ashes cease to smoke
Yearning to hug you to my heart
Closing the book taking up my pen to write
Looking sage wonder where to start
Tell me Tell me Tell me
You were my hero
Yesterday
Tell me Tell me Tell me
What did I know
Anyway

My Gift For You Will Be

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Each year, I write something for Christmas. Sometimes I like the result, sometimes not. The big problem for me is, all the cliches and nice phrases are overworked by thousands of writers and would be writers. It's hard to get beyond that and still sound "Christmasy." The following may or may not be subject to revision, pending further review.


"My Gift For You Will Be"
written with Tony Bennet's voice in my ear
My gift to you will be
More than a prize
Underneath a Christmas tree
Wise and wonderful bride
A star will take us
For a magical ride
Soon you will see
The world below us will be
A jewel in the mist
O’er it we pause
Shocking Santa Claus
With a long lover’s kiss
My love for you will be
More than a prize
More than a prize
This is a true story of my hitch hiking days. Of the lyrics I consider among my best, it has consistently been the least popular. Regardless, I am proud of - - -

San Luis

abandoned almost drunk in old san luis
somehow i just can`t find the border
hitch hiker stranded in the land of ease
i keep walking asking in english for the border
one day i was leaving san diego
with my thumb he drove with lightning speed
we almost died in the high sierra
that car lost its will and stalled in the heat near san luis
he said i`ll pay we`ll play in mexico
a stranger set us on the dusty street
it was cerveza for me and my amigo
he vanished in a manner not altogether discreet
abandoned almost drunk in old san luis
somehow i just can`t find the border
hitch hiker stranded in the land of ease
i keep walking asking in english for the border
men sit at ease on the wooden walk-way
and one will point his finger to the north
free i may load the lettuce trucks or merely segue
because i need to see my momma back home in fort worth
abandoned almost drunk in old san luis
somehow i just can`t find the border
hitch hiker stranded in the land of ease
i keep walking asking in english for the border
chorus
I went to tell this girl just how I feel
How I`ve placed my life in her hands
I want to give up my soul to her
Let her know emotions are for real

v1
Maybe it`s an illusion to be this strong
Makes me sad thinking may be wrong
I want to tell my love just how I feel
I want to give up my soul to only her
chorus
I went to tell her but she turned me down
Just when I placed my life in her hands
I want to give up my soul to her
Prove to her emotions are for real
v2
Maybe love`s an intrusion of off key song
She doesn`t want me all along
I want to tell my love she does not know
That I want to give my soul to only her
(music)
bridge
Walking in the misty morn
Realize it`s good to be born
To let her know emotions are real
How to place my life in her hands
V2 repeat
Maybe love`s an intrusion of off key song
She doesn’t want me all along
I want to tell my love she does not know
That I want to give my soul to only her
chorus
I went to tell her but she turned me down
Just when I placed my life in her hands
I want to give up my soul to her
Prove to her emotions are for real

I went to tell her but she turned me down
I went to tell her
Changed some of the words to this

Reflection Song

It’s sometimes a hard road, ain’t it son?
And a long old way until the race is won
Sometimes you’re tired
‘N’ sometimes you’re wired
‘N’ I hope you sometimes have some fun

It ain’t just feathered wings makes a bird to fly
It’s knowing that he’s ready makes him even try
Sometimes he might stall
 Sometimes he might fall
He just gets back up into the sky
And sometimes it seems you’re all alone
You’ll find me cheering from my paternal zone
Though words might fail
May love prevail
If not this brass ring then another one
It ain’t just feathered wings makes a bird to fly
It’s knowing that he’s ready makes him even try
Sometimes he stalls
‘N’ maybe he falls
He just gets back up into the sky
I’m not the parent you might have had
In each family there's some good and there's some bad
Be your own man
And not your old man
Set your own terms and make both of us glad
It ain’t just feathered wings makes a bird to fly
It’s knowing that he’s ready makes him even try
He soars over walls
However tall
The thrill the knowing soaring through the sky



 
#17
 
I Always Care For You

v1
What are you longing for
I`ll hitch it to a shining star
Alone you only go so far
Hey you`re all I’m living for
v2
If you want a helping hand
A someone to share the plan
I could be your right hand man
Be there when you make your stand
bridge
Or if you just want to earn applause
Turn your back to the righteous cause
It`s not against any witness clause
You`re not breaking any modern laws
chorus
I will be there for you
Any time you want me to
I`ll always care for you
I`ll always care for you
v3
What are you crying for
I love you like a movie star
But I`m not here to fight a war
If you`re not ready to bear the scar
Chorus
I would be there for you
Any time you want me to
I`ll always care for you
I`ll always care for you

My Life on the Moon

Life on the moon
Ain`t really bad
When you`re in love
And feelin` sad
Nowhere on Earth
To run from the blues
No one in space
Bringin` bad news
chorus
My life on the moon
Goes on like a dream
I stay there and pretty soon
Trouble lifts like a moonbeam
Life on the moon
Away from it all
Then like a tune
My lover’s call
As down to Earth
I hurry on home
For what it’s worth
Our happy home
chorus
My life on the moon
Goes on like a dream
I stay there and pretty soon
Trouble lifts like a moonbeam
White Cadillac and a Pink Carnation

He gave to her a white Cadillac,
Pink carnation, even a cattle ranch
All on the very first date
She gave to him a demure little smile,
A peck on the cheek, and a firm hand shake,
All on the very same date
The contest was on
He gave to her a big diamond ring,
Eighteen yellow roses, and a wedding invite
All on the very next date
She gave to him a demure little smile,
A peck on the cheek, and a firm handshake,
All on the very same date
The contest went on
He gave to her a mansion on a hill,
White gardenias, and a honeymoon cruise
All on their wedding day
She gave to him a demure little smile,
A peck on the cheek, and a firm handshake,
All on the very same day
The contest was won
He gave to her half a billion bucks,
Two forget-me-nots, and a quickie de-vorce
All on their final day
She gave to him a demure little smile,
A peck on the cheek, and a firm handshake
All on the very same day
It was no contest at all
Daisy Plumtree

Daisy Plumtree was a lusty one,
She loved an old buffalo gun.
She`d shoot her round,
Then stand her ground,
Where many men might run.
If her ways was rough and raw,
She learned it from her paw;
Who killed eight men,
Then made it ten,
Which set his fate with the law.
She was Daisy Missy Plumtree
Rough and ready
Rode the outlaw trail
To rob the outbound mail
Missy Daisy Daisy Plumtree
(repeat)
She went on the lam in Mexico
And fell in with Two Feathers Crow
She leaned her gun
In Crow`s wigwam
Made from hides of buffalo
But the soldiers killed her man
He was crossing the Rio Grande
Daisy got hung
Before she swung
Said Daisy Crow is who I am
She was Daisy Missy Plumtree
Rough and ready
Rode the outlaw trail
To rob the outbound mail
Missy Daisy Daisy Plumtree
(repeat)

My Copyrighted Lyrics

#1

Rockin' on the Rail


Hear the clackity clack clack
of a train rollin` west
I lay me down on the boxcar floor
just to take my rest
And the tunnel of night
Shuts out all but starlight
I clackity clack clack
rockin` on the rail

Rockin` on the rail

As I`m laying here awake
with my bottle and a restless heart
Thinkin` on the lovely towns
to visit and soon depart
If you see me on your street
Have some mercy when we meet
Or it`s clackity clack clack
rockin` on the rail

Rockin` on the rail

Don`t say we`re outlaws
who live beyond the law
I never want to be unkind
or hurt anyone at all
I got no points to prove
I`m just born to move
I clackity clack clack
rockin` on the rail

Rockin` on the rail
Yeah We're Dancing

v1
I can`t stand horses
And of course it`s
The only way to ride
Down the slimy steps
Our little pony trips
Along the slopes we glide
Smelling juices
In the sluices
I journey with my bride

v2
Burning in the acid
Already turning flaccid
Shall we slip inside
In the belly of the fly
It`s a ballroom
In the belly of the fly
My bride’s rehearsing
And she’s bursting
In her gown of white
Ch:
We’re rehearsing
We’re rehearsing
In the belly of the fly
In the ballroom
In the belly of the fly
And we`re dancing
Yeah we`re dancing
In the belly of the fly
v3
I didn`t know where you are
Maybe from another star
You turned and baby there you are
You turned and baby there you are
In the belly of the fly
Belly of the fly
It`s a ballroom
In the belly of the fly
Ch:
Then reversing
And rehearsing
In the belly of the fly
In the ballroom
In the belly of the fly
And we`re dancing
Yeah we`re dancing
In the belly of the fly
White Chocolate, Blue Roses

White chocolate, blue roses and sad melodies
Dancing alone, drinking sweet wine, sleeping - not yet
White chocolate, blue roses and bad memories
Texting your phone, dreaming you`re mine, weeping - that`s next
I`ll toast the moon, I`ll wink at the stars through my tears
Holding the dark close in my arms, waltzing - with you
Feeling your charms through imagining, my dear
Was that the telephone that I heard, oh please - but boo hoo
White chocolate, blue roses and sad melodies
Calling your name, into the night, sleeping - not yet
White chocolate, blue roses and bad memories
Texting your phone, dreaming you`re mine, weeping - oh yes

Christmas Verses

 
On a now defunct forum site, I, along with other members, wrote poems depicting Santa's journey one Christmas Eve. Here are the best of my own.


1
I hide to view Santa
I watch from his back
He bends near the mantle
Oops - butte crack
He helps himself to the gin
Becoming ever so jolly
He exits with a grin
Then falls from the roof into the holly
The elves plop him on the sleigh
His feet stuck in the air
Moaning How much does he weigh?
He's not one; he's a pair
I saw them slip into the night like a moving star
Then rushed to see if he'd left me some liquor at the bar


2


Santa chugged mylanta alka seltzer and pepto and tums
Yelled at the reindeer, "Faster ya bums!"
The sleigh was hot with friction, smokin',
As it lit on roofs and waited for Santa to place a token
In each stocking and beneath each tree,
No time to take even a pea
(There was a pea salad on Andy Smith's table).
The elements of night were growing unstable.
Santa rolled up his sleeves:
"Gotta serve every child who believes,
From one to nine hundred and one,
Get all in on the fun."




3


Next went sleigh and crew
To the lands of gloom and grue,
For the heart of the season
Knows not spirit's treason;
But ministers to wrath and rue.
Santa, said one elf named Joe,
There's a child whose father says no
When asked if there is love named Santa.
The child has no gift;
He's not on the list.
Oh, Santa, what is the answer?
Santa clucked sadly with woe;
There is no answer friend Joe;
For magic dust I sprinkle
To make their hearts twinkle;
But, I cannot alter the nature
Of despair, of disbelief and failure
If hearts are closed and avenues cut off.
He choked with a sob and a cough.
That one's meager Christmas they served,
That one they lost the nerve.
Another one slept in booze and pills,
Soon to forget his worldly ills.
And when they left the plain of gloom and sadness
It left a stain on all their remaining gladness


4
In the still sylvan night
Perchance a swinging light
What or who this Holiest hour
With lantern a-glower
Puts foot before foot
Entrants boot by boot
Moon-dapple bower
What eyes sweep the room
Broom straw across the gloom
Peruse yon sleeping tadpole
Gloved hand pulls out of the hole
In his bag a fragment of star
To place it in center of the scar
Of moonlight across the blanket scroll


5
On the fly again
Santa rests, a toddy in hand.
He notes young Linda moved without warning;
She lived at the house below just this morning.
He sends elf Joe to reconoiter
Searching here and across the border.
She's here, Joe signals;
It's the girl with the pigtails.
They swoop; they land.
Asleep in the sand
The whole family huddled.
The elf's approach, befuddled.
I don't understand why some must hide.
And Joe the elf stood back and cried.


6
Pirate Pete hid among the rocks
Inside the many slopes and pocks
Listening for the swoosh of approaching sleigh and deer.
He lolled across the coarse stone sipping foaming beer.
In his hand a lasso to trap the fat man's ride,
A sword and pistol pressing his side.
"Swoo-" He hears it on high.
"-oosh'. He flings his rope to the sky.
With a twang the line grows taught;
Santa, elves and deer are caught.
Har, the delighted pirate cries;
"I've got you for all your lies.
Telling folks the reindeer are boys,
Giving out on the savior's birth mere toys;
I could make you walk a plank.
Arrr, in fact my ship just sank.
Would ye be for giving a poor pirate lad a ride?
I'll take it and swallow my pride."
"Get in young man," spoke stern Santa.
"Folks like you make me need Mylanta.
What's this guff that I'm a liar?
The truth of Christmas is life's fire,
With a little harmless fun.
Hey, look what I've done.
I don't mean to make you cry, friend.
Take this gift and let our argument end."
"Arr; I'm a pirate; I can never change.
In the end I'm gonna rob you though it seems strange.
Can you keep me an appointment for the mid of May?
For I intend to waylay you on the one called May Day."
Certainly I can;
Here shake my hand."
He let Pete down
And turned the sleigh around.
"Adios, you pirate," he yelled.
"Open your gift; it's swell."
The pirate removed the patch from his one eye
He opened the gift and began to cry.
"Arr, a teddybear,
With curly brown hair.
Thank you Santa Claus.
We'll not fight; there's no cause."
And Santa cried "Hi yo reindeer"
And sailed into a sky serene and clear.