Staggering beside the carts, like dull warhorses,

we stumble along endless tracks and mud-souped ditches,

always stooped, intent upon the next step.

Rattling behind, grisly chains of disarticulated bones,

tied by tendons and ligaments, trail beyond past horizons,

 a century of war.

Rainbows always cry.

The holly bears a bloody fruit.

All victors ethically vanquished.

But...

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I’m sure you can tell I’m

Part of the hip-hop community

So I take every opportunity

To spit rhymes like a hot tap

Gushing cheer in a Christmas rap.

When the weather is cold,

When the weather is hot

My generosity never stops.

I keep giving without a pause.

They should call me Santa Claus.

What? Don ‘t know who I’m talking about?

Then you can give Father Christmas a ...

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You’re not a believer

And Christmas isn’t for you

But you can enjoy

The festive season, too.

Your whole season

Doesn’t have to be wrecked

Just focus on all the

Commercial aspects.

You don’t have to be spiritual

To enjoy lots of useless tat.

Or flashing lights, tinsel and all that.

And there’s no reason

You can’t have lots of treats, puddings

and sweets, or ju...

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christmas is ridiculous

a frenzy of indoctrination 

sentimental propaganda

pressure to participate

unrealistic expectations

inculcated in the kids

while parents go insane 

it goes against the grain to be 

so busy at this time of year

we should be curled up by the fire

not fucking running round so wired 

to buy this tat that no one needs

sanctifying endless greed

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Twas the night before Christmas

When starless darkness held the night

With howling wind and sleet;

All through the house was ne'er a light

Dark, and a door that creaked

And despite the fire, twas cold as snow

Only the low fire flicker

Could lend the room a ghostly glow

And light the undecked tree.

I crept towards the bottom stair

Mouse-still and watching

A creak, a...

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Fire burning over memories of Christmas

Santa is riding high into the silk sky

But he cannot come here with Brexit a tie

Donna chewed on Santa’s long toenails

As he snoozed on Blitzen’s fat belly

Where streaks of Pollock green ache

Like August clouds

In love with feathers and glass

As the fires take it all away

Widened eyes of the dirtiest faces

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