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Christmas Humorous Poems | Christmas Poems About Humorous

These Christmas Humorous poems are examples of Christmas poems about Humorous. These are the best examples of Christmas Humorous poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet | |

Our Christmas Eve Dinner

'Twas our Christmas Eve dinner; we all had sat down at the table to eat. Grandma couldn’t be found! We children were fussing; Dad rose to his feet. shouting, “Where are you, Ma? We’re ready to eat!” When from the next room we heard such a noise Jenny squealed, “Santa Claus must have brought toys!” We then heard a sound like a whimpering pup saying, “Help. I’ve fallen and cannot get up.” Grandpa jumped up and then rushed to the door that led to the bathroom. There on the floor lay our poor grandma, eyes widened in fear, looking like she’d got run over by reindeer! The dresser had fallen. It had her pinned down. Grandma was wildly flailing around. More swiftly than Rudolph, we did all we were able. We unpinned her. Then Mom yelled, “Back to the table!” Back to the dining room all we kids came As our mom started to call us by name. “Davy, Mel, Jenny, Angie, Marie. . . Get back here now. I’m counting to three!” Like animals not having eaten all day, stuck in a cage without getting their way, we sat at that table our bellies all growling, and Davy, the baby, by now was howling. And then finally what did appear? Dad with our grandpa and grandma so dear! Supported by both our grandpa and dad, Grandma was flushed and looking quite bad. She was dressed in a housecoat trimmed in white lace and a big purple bruise had now formed on her face. Mom pulled out a chair helping Grandma to sit, and then our dad bellowed, “OK, have at it!” Our mouths how they watered to see the large ham. “And that isn’t all,” said Mom, “I made lamb!” Her small pretty mouth was turned up in a grin, “The food’s getting cold now. Children, dig in.” Our dad how he laughed as he poured lots of gravy onto his potatoes and kidded with Davy. And Grandma sat smiling despite her great fall while Grandpa gulped spiked nog, not talking at all. With eyes that seemed bigger than my own belly, I dished out big spoonfuls of cranberry jelly. Mom winked and I knew I had nothing to dread. Her pleasure was in us all being well fed. I went straight to work at stuffing my face when suddenly Mom said, “We didn’t say grace!” We closed our eyes listening to our dad’s prayer. I peeked but was met by my mom’s warning stare! Dad finished the prayer with a hearty Amen. Then we were all grabbing Mom’s fixings again. When the food had all vanished and our stomachs hurt, we heard Dad exclaim, “So what’s for dessert?” For the Children's Christmas or Holiday Tale - Poetry Contest of Carol Eastman

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Santa's Favorite - Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer

Santa Claus has travel worries at the North Pole,
With terrible winter storms brewing there afoot,
He knows Christmas is so close and so he must put
His children first now whom he loves deeply and whole! 
And so he must find red-nosed Rudolph to cajole
Him into guid’n his sleigh on Christmas Eve to boot,
For this would bring his kids so much joy—what a hoot!   
Rudolph’s red nose bright guiding them from the North Pole! 

Rudolph leads Santa’s reindeer on Christmas Eve Night,
While all shout out with joy on this blessed holy night!
Santa’s reindeer love Rudolph in equal measure,
For with him they won’t be lost—oh what a pleasure!
Rudolph’s glowing red nose shines now ever so bright,
As we all with Santa celebrate the Lord’s night!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, (December 12, 2014) 
(Petrarchan Sonnet poetic format in Iambic Hexameter)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014

Details | Clerihew | |


She fell from the top of the Christmas tree Bumped her head and said ‘oh deary me’ With pine needles sticking in various places The Christmas tree fairy pulled funny faces Jan Allison 5th December 2014 Not for Contest

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

Details | Limerick | |


You got a duff gift from your ‘mate’ Too large, in a colour you hate It simply won’t fit You’ll never wear it No nookie mate now you can wait! 12~28~14 A Quintain Christmas - Andrea Dietrich ~awarded 3rd place~

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

Details | Limerick | |


Santa’s little helper felt poorly sick Couldn’t deliver presents for Saint Nick His red nose was gleaming Blue eyes they were streaming I hope that Santa will give him some Vick 24th December 2014

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

Details | Footle | |


Bad gifts Cause rifts Be rash Spend cash Debit Credit Worthwhile Their smile 20th December 2014

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Anansi and the Christmas Cake

It was Christmas time in Anansi’s house
But Anansi was snoring loud and deep
While all the house was up and busy
Sneaky Anansi was pretending to sleep

Anansi imagined lying on the beach
Soaking up some hot Jamaican sun
Christmas time with all its merriment
For Anansi was never, ever fun!

Poor Anansi - it’s such a crime
To not have fun at Christmas time!

Last year whist fixing the Christmas baubles 
He was jumping up, extremely mad
Because all the baubles kept flying off
And the crooked angel looked very sad

When he tore off the wrapper from his gifts
He always hoped for a nice surprise
But every year his presents were the same
Eight pairs of socks and two colourful ties 

Poor Anansi - the church bells’ chime
No fun for you this Christmas time!

And Christmas dinner was never enough
Because his wife entertained the whole town!
Cold scraps of dinner left on a plate
And a squeeze to find a spot to sit down 

And playing party games was such a bore
Card games he never had the knack 
Charades would leave him a little confused
Legs tangled with Twister or stuck on his back

Poor Anansi, you can bet a dime
No fun for you this Christmas-time

Never anything good to watch on TV
And the Queen spoke too posh and too slow
He didn’t even have a favourite book to read
Poor, poor Anansi with his Christmas woe

But there was just one thing about Christmas
That Anansi couldn’t wait to partake
Every Christmas his wife would prepare
The most delicious, scrumptious Christmas cake

Every year he sliced the biggest piece
Leaving his family to fight for the rest
Delicious, scrumptious with a scoop of ice-cream
This Christmas cake was always the best

Anansi made sure that everyone had gone
Before he scurried down for his Christmas treat
He looked in the oven, the cupboard the fridge
But couldn’t find any Christmas cake to eat

 “Surprise,” said his wife from behind him
“We are having fruit salad for a change!”
Then she handed him a large Christmas bowl 
Filled with tropical fruits of all range.

Poor Anansi - it’s such a crime
To have no cake at Christmas time!
To have no cake at Christmas time!
To have no cake at Christmas time!

Copyright © Elayne Ogbeta | Year Posted 2014

Details | Clerihew | |



Aged Ralphie Parker
did sit with a marker,
writing Santa Clause in hope;
send one M-15 with a scope.

Robert Gene Stoner Jr ©

Copyright © Robert Stoner Jr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Limerick | |

You'd Better not pout

You’d better not pout

Santa, you’d better not pout
Unless you suffer from gout
Just take proper rest
Then make your way west
And vow to lay off the stout

Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Contest: Quintain Christmas
Placed: 3rd

Copyright © Ronald Zammit | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |


My abiding memory of 2015 is of events that are so sad With my father’s death, it’s the worst year I’ve ever had It has been the most challenging year for me But with amazing support I remain pretty happy I don’t want to dwell on events that have past My memories of the year 2015 will always last I want to leave the year on a humourous note With a true tale of a gift that didn’t get my vote! Mum and I went out to a local church fete It’s very well attended and the raffle is great We perused all the stalls and brought a few things I got some lemon cake and some brand new earrings The raffle stall bulged with wonderful prizes With boxes that ranged in all shapes and sizes One pretty white gift box really caught my eye Four ‘Dior’ perfume miniatures for a lady to try We brought some tickets then sat and drank tea I said to mum, I’ve seen just the prize for me The raffle got drawn and mum’s ticket was pulled out I collected the prize of Dior perfume without a doubt Mum told me I could have it as a Christmas gift I was overjoyed and it gave my heart a huge lift The gift box was placed under our little tree Its pretty gold ribbon was there for all to see I didn’t open the box on Christmas Day Until Boxing Day the pretty box did stay We were going out to friends later that night I thought my new perfume would be just right Taking the pretty white box from under the tree I pondered which scent would be perfect for me Upon lifting the lid of the perfume box I returned to the school of hard knocks To my consternation and my deep chagrin There was a void where the perfume once had been An empty box was my only present from my mum My gift is that I still have mum, so my poem is done. This is a true story - someone had put an empty box as a raffle prize! Contest: My abiding Memory Sponsor: Viv Wigley 9th January 2016

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

Details | Tail-rhyme | |

Each Spangle From Your Tree


When you have fallen fast asleep,
I'll crawl toward your hall and creep
out through your door...

Advancing quickly through the gloom,
I'll prance into your living room
and as you snore,

I'll pulverize your rug and purr,
while sizing up your Douglas Fir.
Then, I will leap!

And dangle ever frantically,
until each spangle from your tree
is in a heap.

I'll slash your floppy socks's toes
and gnash your boxes tops's bows
in savage bites!

Then lift, at last, my pretty tail
and spritz a blast of 'Kitty Male"
to wreck your lights!


Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

A Christmas Letter

I'm not overly fond of receiving a family's annual gushing story,
In the form of a Christmas Letter stating that all is hunky-dory.
I received one the other day in which they told the honest truth,
And I'll relay its contents though of me it may be somewhat uncouth!

"My son Jimmy who was in the army gave a sergeant a lot of sass,
And was unceremoniously invited to leave the service by the army brass!
Daughter Sarah became in a 'family way' bringing me much disgrace.
The father of the kid left the state and of him there is not a trace!"

"Son Robert attempted to rob a bank and now languishes in jail.
The judged sentenced him to twenty years sans the benefit of bail.
My husband up and left me for that hussy waitress at Joe's Cafe.
That left me with little money, having to keep bill-collectors at bay!"

"My sister fell on hard times and moved in with her three little brats.
She also brought along three hounds, a nasty parrot and two hissing cats!
My trusty old 85 Chevy blew a rod and left me without wheels;
I can't afford another car because of outrageously high-priced deals!"

She goes on to say, "I hope all has gone well at your house this year.
As you can see, this past year ain't been one for me of great cheer!"
I appreciated her honesty but found her dismal plight quite appalling.
Her letter left me quite bereft and before you know it, I started bawling!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? | |

Panto rhyme


In this modern life of all work and no play
We forget where our wisdom is stored.
We just haven't time, for a nursery rhyme,
That the kids in past ages adored, adored.
That the kids in past ages adored

The characters felt they were fading away
So a meeting was held in Toad Hall
The spokesperson Rat, there promoted the Cat.
To the Captain, in charge of them all, them all.
To the captain in charge of them all.

Expeditions were planned, to go to the land
Where nursery rhymes go to retire
The home by the sea, where all pantos are free
And the stars go to slowly expire, expire.
And the stars go to slowly expire.

The Owl built a craft, you may think it quite daft,
Out of what he had left from his lunch.
There were carrots and peas, leftovers like these.
And crewed by a very odd bunch, odd bunch.
And crewed by a very odd bunch.

So the Owl and the pussycat  sailed out to sea 
In a beautiful green pea boat
Cat said to Owl, the weathers turned foul,
Do you think that these veggies will float, will float,
 Do you think that these veggies will float.

Little miss Muffet, sat tight on her tuffet
Said We’ll ask the spider to row
With four legs a side and the pull of the tide 
We’ll speed up our vessel so slow, so slow,
We’ll speed up our vessel so slow.

The prediction proved true, and  the little boat flew
To the land ‘neath the silvery moon,
Where cutlery chanced,  their luck as they danced.
And the dish had a crush on the spoon, the spoon.
And the dish had a crush on the spoon.

Where little jack Horner, recluse in his corner,
Stares hard at a pie in the sky.
And little dogs laugh, as a cow and its calf
Eat mushrooms and think they can fly, can fly.
Eat mushrooms and think they can fly.

With his crew now ashore, captain cat said “explore”
We will search till the haven is found.
I'm told it's been seen, near the magical bean.
Where the fairytale stories abound, abound.
Where the fairytale stories abound.

Then spoke, an old hag; just a man dressed in drag,
Said she knew how to find the great bean
With its stalk  growing high, past the pie in the sky.
In the town where the Giants are green, are green.
In the town where the Giants are green.

They marched off inland, captain cat and his band.
They came across little Bo Peep
Laid down on the ground, with the lambs all around.
She had dozed off while counting her sheep, her sheep,
She had dozed off while counting her sheep.

They woke shepherdess, and she gave the address,
Of the home run by Jack and by Jill
And then to confound, She said turn around,
It's behind you, up there on the hill, the hill,
It's behind you up there on hill.

They all turned about, at a terrible shout,
From man who came tumbling down.
OThen a scream from his wife, can you please save his life,
I believe that he's broken his crown, his crown.
I believe that he's broken his crown.

The clever old Owl, bound his head with a towel
And then got him back to his abode.
It seemed like a cure, and so Jill said I'm sure.
A debt to this Owl here is owed, is owed.
A debt to this Owl here is owed.

The Owl used his mind, saying that's very kind.
I think as we’re all refugees
That what we need most, is a home on this coast.
And to stay here if this town agrees, agrees.
And to stay here if this town agrees.

The town had a vote, and it's worthy of note,
That the cross placed in every page.
Was, yes, they can stay, and be part of our play.
Because all of the world is a stage, a stage
Because all of the world is a stage.

Copyright © Tony Wager | Year Posted 2015

Details | Clerihew | |

Frosty The Snowman

Did you hear about Frosty The Snowman?

   His reign didn't play out according to plan.

      Neighborhood dogs peed on him yellow.

         He was one most mortified young fellow!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSGT, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved

Entry for Andrea Dietrich's "A Christmas Character Clerihew" Contest

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2014

Details | Acrostic | |


Bargains galore!
Lots of people out shopping
All looking for that special gift
Carrier bags bulging
Keep an eye on the spending

Frazzled tempers
Riots break out
I got the LAST one
Don’t ever want to go shopping again
All I want is to go home
Yipee  ... only 365 days till we do it all over again!!!

Jan Allison
27th November 2014

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

Details | Clerihew | |

Jacob Marley

Scrooge encountered the ghost of Jake Marley,

    While slurping his bowl of blah barley.

       From thence, as we know the plot thickens,

         As from past sins Scrooge fled like the 'dickens'!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSGT, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved

Not for the contest - just for fun.

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2014

Details | Clerihew | |

Ralphie Parker Vis-a-Vis Scud Farkus

It seems that even-tempered Ralphie Parker,

   Had a side to him that was somewhat darker.

      Ralphie lost his cool with his mortal protagonist,

         And bloodied the beak of Farkus his antagonist!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry | |

Dragon Santa

There’s a little known fact about the North Pole.
Now Santa’s a Dragon, you really should know.
Now think about this and it will become clear.
Santa, like Dragons, is so very magical my dear.

In the very least, Santa has to be… at least partly so.
He’s just a SNOW Dragon, now wouldn’t you know?
He only comes south… in the deepest of wintertime.
And he brings along the snow for good girls and boys.

Now, I wouldn’t lie! I know… that honestly, it’s true!
I call him the Solstice Santa; for he brings winter, its true!
Think! Who brings those sleds when you’re snug in bed?
It’s the Dragon reindeer… Who can fly, high thru the air!

Now, think my dear friend… and you will know that it’s so.
Who loves havoc more, than a mischievous Dragon’s soul?
How come there’s always snow, as they land on your roof?
Because Snow Dragons can breath snow… Lickety Split!

And Dragons love fun… so here come all those Great toys.
Yep, they, too, were made by mischievous, DRAGON guys!
And just where, do you think, my Dragon egg came from?
Grandpa Troll came south, with it, yep, from the North Pole!

When Dragon is grown… Where do you think he wants to go?
Naturally, first North, to visit Dragon Santa, at the North pole.
Gee, the world is spinning, and Grandpa Troll is laughing, too!
No! Say it isn’t true! Grandpa Troll? Did you spike the eggnog?

Again this year? Well, it WAS a beautiful dream… That’s true!
And Merry Christmas, out there, to all you wonderful, You’s!!

Written 12-8-2014 by Carol Eastman It's Iambic something...
Don't know iambic what... Can you guys help me here? What would 
you call it?

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry | |

Santas Christmas Wish

Dear Santa,

Remember that wish, to spend time with Dragon, you wanted to come true.
Well, we’ve found a way to make that wish, for you, to really, come true.
Now, don’t expect anything to go in a very usual and in a controllable way.
With Dragon, things just don’t ever; seem to turn out simple, in any way.

Well it all started, as Dragon got worried about terrorists, problems, and all.
Yeah, I know they’re no trouble for you… No… They aren’t… Not at all.
But Dragon’s so young, and a touch worried, and as we’ve all come, to know.
He wants, to fly with you, in your magic slipstream, to protect you, you know.

But Dragon can’t fly very far or very straight yet, being only 2 years old, you bet.
And we don’t want him bothering you, or knocking you out of the sky, you bet.
We talked to McRaccoon, in his Las Vegas Dragon show; he too, wants to go.
And you see, his whole bunch of Dragons, want to fly, thru the air, with you, so...

They’ll fly in a V formation; it’ll make a great, thing to see, so you must, let it be!
Our Dragon will ride upon the leader, and others will carry others, please, let it be!
Make-a-Wish children all want to go, wrapped up snuggly with their papa’s so...
McRaccoon will document it with pictures, for every one’s wall, and you did wish…

Yes, for a Dragon meet and greet to start things off, and your elves can help, also!
The Trolls will be there, to help with crowd control, and to get an autograph, also.
To remember us all… Dragon got a St. Christopher medal blessed by the Pope.
The Pope will give it to you, as he blesses your trip, which brings peace and hope.

Oh, and he’ll give you a very ancient, beautiful cross, for the years you’ve served.
Yes, while teaching us how to give, celebrate, and serve… engulfed in God’s love.
I’ll give you a toy Dragon to hang on your beautifully, amazing Christmas tree. 
The elves say your manger set there…is truly a sight of wonder, to be seen.

What! You agree! Dragon and all will be so touched, so, Thank you so very Much!
Our Dear…Dear Santa Claus!

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry | |

All I want for Xmas is a poetry membership

All I want for Christmas
Is my two front teeth
All my back teeth
A Mercedes or Bentley
A life time membership to Hugh Hefner's mansion
The rights to the song "If I had a million dollars"
Cause then I would have 5 million dollars

A new pair of socks
A house full of books
With a sexy librarian too boot
Or in some nice boots
If its not too too much trouble
Santa list of naughty girls
Some Newfoundland screech
A clock that can turn back time
I train set 1000 times bigger than Arthur s
And his butler

Again. If its not too much trouble
A few hundred genies in bottles
A few Rembrandt's and various other famous paintings
The country of Iceland, if the price is right
Oh and all the episodes of "The Rockford files" and "Colombo"
My childhood back

Oh and a private plane
I do not really want one but it would seem plain silly
If I don’t ask, n'est pas?
I almost almost forgot, a harem or even a few
Just for images sake
For I want only one princess

Of course, I would gladly give this all away
If when I see a child suffer or sad
I could paint happiness inside in their little souls
If only
I could paint happiness inside of us all

Of course we can start with the poetry membership!

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Santa's Encounter With Space

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the sky,
Santa's reindeer sped bringing toys to the world's small fry.
"On Dasher! On Dancer and Prancer!  On Cupid and Vixen!
Lead on Rudolph!  Speed it up there Donner and Blitzen!"

Rudolph knew the routine since he had led Santa for years,
Cruising o'er Australia, Merry Olde England and sunny Algiers!
Suddenly, Santa saw strange sights he'd never encountered before!
Whizzing past him were dozens of satellites and space junk galore!

But faithful Rudolph was alert and said after another near miss,
"Never mind, boss!  Trust me and hang on!  I'll get you through this!"
Santa clutched his toy bag, hunkered down and closed his eyes,
Relying on the red-nosed one to guide him safely through the skies.

They made it alright and Santa visited every isle, city and nation,
Spreading cheer to all who awaited his visit with great anticipation!
Santa brought presents to all good little girls and boys worldwide,
Thanks to his magic sleigh and reindeer with Rudolph as his guide!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |



Did you know that Santa always had a secret desire,
To explore and experience the holiday known as Halloween!
This jolly spirit whom brought the world of mankind such joy,
And wonder on the Twenty-five of every December, had a 
Mischievous side, a childlike curiosity about this 
Spookiest of Haunted holidays!
So when Mrs. Clause went to take care of her allying
Sister just before this mystical season, Old Chris Kringle,
Made up his mind to go forth unto the world of men
And see what this spooky hullabaloo was all about!
A magical being himself, he thought it best to appear
In a childlike form, dressed up of course as an elvish imp,
After all this whole experience was brand new to him,
He knew not if this costume, would help him to fit in,
Or not, but the excitement over rode judgement's
So Santa grabbed an old pillow case, put a sign
On his bedroom door, do not disturb getting some
Extra zzzz, while Mrs. Clause is gone on family business,
So in this way those nosie elves would not get curious!
Than sneaking out the back door, he loaded up a tiny sleigh,'
To one alone reign deer, and road off into the darkness
Ready to investigate this holiday known as Halloween!
The full moon above seemed to light up the dreary shadows
Below, as Santa landed in the village of sleepy Hallow,
A party was going on in a large manor house, what better
A place to begin Chris Kringle thought to himself!
All within were dressed in variations of costumes,
Laughing and singing, bobbing for apples and feasting,
What festive scene to behold Santa Clause decided!
Dark and devilish decorations, were hung from high to
Low, pumpkins all lit up with grinning smiles all carved
Out hallow glowed in a sinister fashion!
It Kinda of creeped the elderly gentlemen out to be
Honest, but he was going to investigate this dark
Legendary season no matter what, outside little
People came knocking at the door, dressed as vampires,
Werewolves, witches and more, forgetting he himself
Had changed his personal form, a large lady spoke
Excuse me little master, shouldn’t be outside with the
Others, whoops Santa said your right, and he joined 
With the others!
Every house on the lane, was all lit up aglow, with
Pumpkins, and dark macomb designs, grave stones
Marked RSVP, or black cat motifs what does this
All mean he thought, wired to say in the least!
He’d almost made up his mind to return home,
As fast as he could, when he heard the voices of
Children ring out, trick or treat and candy of all
Types poured outwards to these eager monstrous
Tike's, now I understand free goodies at any age
Is a wondrous thing? 
At this point old Saint Nick was hooked, as the
Years of sneaking out to partake in this ghoulish
Holiday past, he learned that other things were 
Involved in this spookiest of holidays, but the spoils
Of this sweet toothed holiday could not be denied, and the
Happiness of children’s faces hiding beneath their sticky masks, made
It all worth it to Chris Kringle, this jolly fellow from up north.
 What a Halloween jingle for old Santa Clause to speak,
Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good
To eat, but it is after all Halloween is it not, HO, HO, HO
Munching on his goodies treats, laughing all the way!




Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric | |

The Twelve Spammers' Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . a cut-rate Canadian Pharmacy
On the second day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . two insurance quotes
On the third day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . three free credit scores
On the fourth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . four grow your *****
On the fifth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . five thousand dollars guaranteed!
On the sixth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . six extended warranties
On the seventh day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . seven stock alerts
On the eighth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . eight work from homes
On the ninth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . nine Nigerian emails
On the tenth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . ten get out of debts
On the eleventh day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . eleven singles meet ups
On the twelfth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . . 
    . . . twelve hot Asian brides

Copyright © Gary Watkins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Nailed On The River Styx

Some glide, some slide,
And some couples list from both sides,
Energy drink fugue fried,
Glow worms on boards swiftly unglued by the night,
A babbling brook of dreaming lips steam-open the frazzled,
And closed circuit dollies shall frack their eyes.

Glittering indigo swans card shuffle the dawn
slim-line nascent functioning forms;
The store fronts' knee-deep teardrop lights
glow with the reckoning:
Inkling herds concussed with ultraviolet kisses,
The neon wash of cobalt, fuchsia, oyster and saffron hues,
Their shopping bags which shimmer
withhold intelligent tags resounding with personal news to lose..

Earphones wash the tumbling ice rink sonics of youth -
The white noise smeared illusions,
Fancifully duct taped with lip-read truths:
Cinnamon fairy tales of moon/June travails and trampled over glamour;
The vapouriser aspirations paint a palate of crowbar colours.
Defunct holy grails mist in laser guided vapour trails -
This planet's constellations of hurt sailed,
And embers stoke and smoke desires and wishes,
The burned burn those bridges..

With purpose, the legions parched return their unwanted gifts,
Spilt back inside their glass plastic sense,
I'll be good for your gold, perhaps,
if you'll allow a cash refund for this myrrh and frankincense..

Copyright © Suki Spangles | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |


When Santa got stuck down the chimney
What a terrible fright for young lives
Imagine the sight that then met them
Imagine their awful surprise.
With a crash and a thump and a holler
A bang and a whoosh and a boom
The magical globe trotting Santa
Daintily entered their room!

He landed full square in their fireplace
His hat flopped down over his eyes
He looked really much more like Black Beard
Except he was double the size.
The children sat up in amazement
Then hid and peeped through a crack
As this unfortunate dirty old Santa
Was hit on the head by his sack.

The air turned quite blue for a moment
When he finally uttered a cry
I’ve hurt every bone in my body
Was the gist of what he implied
Now Rudolph looked down from above him
Shook his head and then let out a sigh
Get up you clumsy old has been
We still have work left to do tonight.

Well Santa looked right up that chimney
His plight became clear in a flash
He was stuck with his sack at the bottom
And didn’t know how to get back.
The children, still hid in the corner
Just couldn’t believe what they saw
As this dirty old Santa recovered
Did his job and then limped out the door. 

They watched as he climbed out the window
His suit now completely akimbo
But Rudolph was there with the sleigh and a spare
He now had clean clothes to change into.
Once more Rudolph rescued the big man
Stamped his hoof, got him out of his whirl
Threatened to leave less he focus
You know, of course, Rudolph’s a girl!!!!                                                                                                                   
The children got up in the morning
Frustrated, annoyed and distressed,
For their bedroom looked just like a bombsite
Where two sacks of gifts had been left
Despite having left him a message
Stating ‘ please do not leave so much trash,
We are modern day children remember
What we want is a cheque or some cash’

Copyright © Heather Buxton | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Twelve Days Of Christmas

His young bride took the Twelve Days of Christmas to extremes it seems!
His true love kept piling on strange things well beyond his fairest dreams!
On the First Day of Christmas she gave him a shovel for shoveling snow.
On the Second Day of Christmas she gave him a fifty-cent jug of Red Bordeaux.
On the Third Day of Christmas he was presented with a scruffy mutt.
On the Fourth Day of Christmas he received a one-way ticket to Terre-Haute.
On the Fifth Day of Christmas she graced his skull with a silly beanie cap.
On the Sixth Day of Christmas she handed him an African contour map.
On the Seventh Day of Christmas he received a used Michelin radial tire.
On the Eighth Day of Christmas he was stunned to get a strand of barbed wire.
On the Ninth Day of Christmas he got a life-membership in the Red Hat Society.
On the Tenth Day of Christmas a collection of horseshoes, a most bizarre variety.
On the Eleventh Day of Christmas a parrot that spoke naughty words so gross.
On the Twelfth Day of Christmas he got the Visa Card bill leaving him morose.
He was underwhelmed by all this useless stuff and thought it mighty queer.
He was under the impression that Christmas came but once a year!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Placed No.3 in PD'S "12 Days of X-Mass" Contest - December 2012

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

On the Naughty List

It's Christmas Eve and little Steve is sleeping like an angel
He knows Santa's sleigh is on the way with cookies on the table
The stockings are hung, the tree is trimmed, the feel of Bliss
The house glows with the warmth and sparkle of Christmas
Jolly Old Saint Nick ever so quick arrives at little Steve's home
He checks his list, nods his chin and with a grin
Leaves little Steve his lump of coal

Ho ho ho off Santa goes
Little Steve wakes right up
Runs down the stairs to see Santa disappear
Dashes for the tree but nothing he can see
Except for him a lump of dark black coal
With a note from the old fat soul

Dear Little Steve,

       How have you been?
I know.  Oh boy do I know!
Your on the naughty list you know
Your stocking is the one with a hole
If this can not be understood
Next year try being good
Whining crying screaming at the store
Because you want mommy to buy you more
Stealing toys from other kids
Come on now gee whiz
Cheating on your tests
Honestly in school just try your best
Lying is not a game
Can't you feel a little shame
Bullying little kids
Accusing others for what you did
Demanding tones and being rude
Belching and farting ever so crude
Even your little hand got caught
Robbing the Salvation Army pot
Never did you help others out
You are selfish without a doubt
Besides where are the cookies on my plate
The milk you left the cookies you ate
So in closing little Steve
Think of others begin with please
And if you think old Santa unfair
I'm watching you better beware
If toys games and sweets you desire
Start with sorry and aim higher
So stop pouting and being pis___
That's another reason your on the Naughty List.

                                             Love Santa Claus

p.s.  That piece of coal in your hand you hold, it's nothing that I bought
just something a reindeer dropped.

HO HO HO  Merry Christmas and to all a good night.

AAAARGGGH!!!-little Steve's response

Copyright © Fritz Purdum | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku | |


A Christmas wish list
A quick glimpse into my life
Not much going on

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2012

Details | Imagism | |

The Red Symphony

A self-written poem begun in Christmas Time,
While it tasting the soup and looking for rhyme.
In the kitchen, neighbor with the quiet tomato paste,
The sorcerer's apprentice, a poet pretty well placed
Near Soups (ciorbe) with characteristic sour taste
With luminous face and much grace added the rest:
As he was sipping and tasting from raw and cooked.
His group had a passionate look at what was booked
For the dinner: These might be meat and vegetable soups.

They had to choose till the coming of the helping troops
For the pig`s sacrifice rite, old mixture of joy and grief
Under the hot and long debrief of the pleasant smell-thief 
Tripe soup (ciorba de burta) hard prepared from beef,
And calf foot soup (ciorba de vitel), with green-gold leaf 
Pickled soup (supa de moare) with pork and big rice;
But use the dice to decide between spice and allspice.

From the slaughtered pig the village` families prepare: 
Carnati - sausages  kept in special aromatic smoke 
Of wet fir and oak burned at small fire as enjoyed by folk;
Caltabos - sausages made with liver sprinkled with beers;
Toba and piftie - dishes using pig's feet, head and ears 
Suspended in aspic like a frozen symphony in red
After cups of plum brandy and before going the bed
Tochitura - pan-fried pork to bid it a farewell, twice
Served with mamaliga - palesta , and red wine with ice,
Or boiled wine with pepper and cinnamon against frost; 
So that the pork can swim and the verse were glossed;
Piftie - inferior parts of the bashful pig, mainly the tail, 
Feet and ears, kind of meal like taken from a fairytale
In which all are cooked and served in a form of gelatin
In this naturalist field, all the poets smile like Mr.Bean;
Jumari - small pieces of pig meat are fried and tumbled 
Through various spices if after all, you are a little troubled 
 And may falter some poetical from the famous songs
Like "So, good people drink…" couples of diphthongs
Since Saturday to Thursday and make colorful the gray.

This poem was written in the Night of Tuesday to Friday.
( And later we`d find that the housewife had covered with it  the pickles cucumbers jar.)

Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa | Year Posted 2012

Details | Limerick | |

Confessions of a Teenage Boy

This year I asked Santa for a Harley
And a flagon of wine made of barley.
  Then I asked God alone
  For an angel of my own...
No, not one of His, one of Charlie's!

           December 2015

        For Limerick Contest
        Sponsor: Jan Allison

As a teenage boy I loved Cheryl Ladd.

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2015