Best Humbug Poems
Bah! Humbug! It’s that time of year;
I can’t understand the reason
why everyone is so full of cheer
just because it’s the Christmas season.
The traffic on the street is horrendous,
like a snail, moving at a slow crawl;
the shopping crowds tremendous,
no parking spaces at the mall.
The weather outside is terrible;
it is cold and dreary and bleak;
so cold it’s almost unbearable
leaving frostbite on my cheek.
Crowds everywhere looking at the sights;
the Christmas carols driving me insane.
And all those brightly colored lights
leave a glare on the road in this rain.
But I don’t even have to go outside
because I have no gifts to buy.
I can stay in my room and hide;
you see, no family or friends have I.
December 4, 2017
Love’s better when you’re a beginner.
On Valentine’s Day, you’re a winner.
For the old married gal
It’s a day usual.
And you’re lucky to get a free dinner!
(For Francine Robert's "Valentine's Day Limerick" Contest)
Ah, the glorious damned winter
and the inviting
gray chill in the air.
I meander
ever
so
slowly
past lawns
strewn
with a cluttered array
of pagan snow zombies -
staring blankly,
as I obliterate pint-sized
snow angels
failing to don halos
that could have easily been
brush stroked with
da Vinci's golden teardrops.
(Impoverished attention-getters)
"I suggest you peruse Alighieri’s 'Inferno' –
it may, at least, promote heat - if not hope!"
(Simpletons)
Frost continues to cloud my spectacles -
thick and relentless
eagerly permeating the glass -
endeavoring to dance
a feverish Fantasia foxtrot
upon the skins of my pupils.
My heavy feet scuffle
past these endearing peasants.
Bleak…frozen…
forgotten Mt. Everest tombstones.
Disgraced outcasts of embarrassment -
smashed against a stark white canvas
hands cut off –
sticking out their parched tongues
begging for alms.
Click and count.
Their fragile bodies so much alive
their dark, hallowed eyes
so
much
dead.
(So be it)
They stealthily huddle alone -
(Hah! I’ve created my own personal oxymoron!)
These gruesome street urchin waifs -
Dumber than a sackful of hammers and
frostier than a Maine Christmas morn,
convulsing and shivering ‘neath lampposts
without snow shoes or socks,
bawling and boo-hooing...
“Clutching weather-worn copies
of James Hilton’s 'Lost Horizon'
and littering the virgin snow
with salty saline discharge –
igniting street corner bonfires
without the faintest hint of smoke."
(Wasteful)
Ah, the glorious damned winter
and that magnificent gray chill in the air.
My arctic thighs carry me home now
where I am safe.
Where I can slam my door
and shut my eyes.
My cavernous domicile
whereas I can privately converse
with Mr. Dickens and Mr. O’Neill
and read “A Christmas Carol”
or “The Iceman Cometh” -
without a snaggle-toothed interruption...
Listen to the haunting strains of L’Inverno
from Vivaldi’s “Le Quattro Staggioni”
and cackle wildly as I burn first editions
of Clement Clark Moore’s
most infamous penning -
pour myself a
tall glass of ice cubes -
devour a heaping bowl
of vichyssoise -
scarf down a fudgcicle
and just...
turn the air conditioner
ON.
A Grinch in a hamlet of Whovilles
Stole credit cards, ringing up big bills
Without checking price tags
He murmured, “Bah, Scumbags”
For this is how grinches get their thrills!
*January 3, 2015
Ah yes, the joys of Christmas
Excuse me if, I seem a little listless
Just thinking about, all of the work
Turns my smile into a smirk
Carrying boxes, moving things around
That fake tree weighs a hundred pounds
Untangling lights, that came unwound
The headache caused is quite profound
Assemble the tree. What fun! I guess?
Unwrapping ornaments, damn what a mess
Decorate the tree, well, more or less
Did you know popping bubble wrap relieves your stress?
After all of that, it's on to the shopping
Gotta have something to put in your stocking
Unruly children, screaming and flopping
Looks like Christmas cheer, went island hopping
Then family time, so short and sweet
Cooking the food, for all to eat
The hugs, the smiles, the tears we weep
Don't wake me up, if I fall asleep
Finally it's over, do it all in reverse
Put everything back, while you swear and curse
I can't make up my mind, which is worse
The work or the crowds, I need a nurse
So I won't be sending Christmas cards this year
No buying gifts or decorating, let me be clear
I say, "Bah-Humbug", let the ghosts appear
To hell with all of this fake Christmas cheer!
by Daniel Turner
Here we go again,
I’ll have to count to ten,
It’s Christmas time once more,
Christmas songs ‘n every store.
It’s bound to cost a mint
It’s gunna make me skint
And all for just one day
Please make it go away!
The wife’s all in a tizz
I’ve forgotten the Buck’s Fizz
And the Christmas tree’s not right
Not straight when it’s upright.
And the Garland I’ve just bought
She tells me is too short
And the lights are on the blink
Got to find that dodgy link.
The supermarket’s crammed,
The car parks are all jammed,
And the sprouts have gone amiss
Cannot cross them off my list!
But I do this every year
Trying to find the Christmas cheer
It seems a waste of time
But by New Year I’ll be fine.
Then my granddaughter comes knocking
Wants to see her Christmas stocking
Then she reads her Santa’s list
Saying she wants ‘this and this and this!!’
So the humbug inside of me
Melts beside the Christmas tree
As she asks ‘grandad will it snow?’
I say ‘sweetheart let’s hope so!’
If I could be that proverbial fly
I'd listen to Santa, wanna know why?
He checks that stupid list twice
He knows who's naughty or nice
Then I would know if he's passing me by
My father was beloved by all of us
But as the years passed, a bit of a scrooge
He soon became weary of all the fuss…
As children he would decorate a tree
And sing along with us in the church choir
Watch all of us open our gifts with glee…
As the years went by he would watch the clock
Praying for the festivities to end
So one year he got a “Bah Humbug” rock!
It proudly sat next to him at his chair
With tongue in cheek he would tell everyone
“It’s much better than getting underwear”
Illusion
It looks like what it is not
It's not always what it seems
All that glitters is not gold
Though it's summer, some feel cold
At the point dream meets reality
Reality may become an illusion
It leaves me blinded in oblivion
Until I say my opinion
We live in a world of illusion
I've seen blind folks with vision
Mirror images give lateral inversion
Yet we admire the distortion
The same way we love to brag
Even when there's nothing in the bag
O'er the board we nag
Weakened by misfortune some sag
On the pulpit mounts a humbug
Tongue spitting gibberish
Hallucination baptised as vision
Ripping off his sole mission
The more we look, the less we see
The devil plays the Saint
Bet not a cent
In the darkness lies the truth
Images in the head like kaleidoscope
Flight of ideas sweet as honey
Ecstasy sweeter than ******
'Tis from grass; illusion
It was Valentine when I lost someone dear. This poem is that reminiscence.
_____________________________________________________________________|
You and I were close.
Of course, we were.
You my big sister and I am Humbug.
Your nickname is Neece - Rosie in school.
I remember how you looked when I was only nine.
You were a beautiful girl full of life.
Us both liked the wrestling and watch this a lot.
I became disinterest in the sport.
You watched because you said you really enjoyed seeing a man as a punching bag instead of a woman.
We would go out uptown and party.
We laughed together in our mutual environment.
We dance when we wanted to dance.
I truly miss you Neece.
We are six years apart.
Made a difference when I was a girl but now it does not because both of us are adults.
You left me on Valentine in 2009.
Five years later, I write these lines.
I am bereaved; however, I now rejoice in your life.
My beloved sister Neece, Rosie such a beautiful name, I see you are in tranquility through an hourglass.
Farewell
_______________________________________/
User Name: Verlena S. Walker
Nom De Plume: Oblivion Dark Sunshine
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Contest Name: Take Two
Date of Entry: March 31, 2014
~This poem was entered Poet Destroyer A Contest Name Any Poem Goes #14 and I do not, for the real of me, know why it did not place in the top three and from there, not at all. Therefore, I am submitting it in your contest Nette - Take Two.
The Holiday Season has come and gone.
Bank balance for that spree is overdrawn.
Now I'm feeling mighty glum.
Since Sam wants a hefty sum,
The house and my dog I may have to pawn!
Entry for Carolyn Devonshire's "Tax And Finance Limerick" Contest
(Male)
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 dog-gone 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!
…Jeff Bresee
Bah Humbug
Christmas comes but once a year,
With that I am in tune
But what makes me shake in fear
Are the cards in store arriving, during the month of June!
Trying to find a birthday or any general card
Can leave one feeling stressed and tense
For it makes choosing one very hard
Unless one needs, gold, myrrh or frankincense!
It gets much worse in November when shopping we do go
For the carols ring out, causing me, much audible dismay
I feel as if I am attending some mad rave up or a disco
No longer looking for a shop girls help but a for weird D-jay!
Let’s not speak of Sainsbury’s or the very well known Tesco,
For they are the blinking kings at creating mass confusion;
By re-arranging all the shelves, as further shopping I do go
I cannot find the normal goods, adding to my Xmas disillusion!
Throughout December’s month crass commercialism we do see,
Expensive toys for kids, perfumes, foodstuffs for all too eat,
Out from the haunted fish tank in the corner, the 50 inch TV
I’d smash the wretched thing but I would miss Coronation Street.
I would also miss, sitting, quietly crying about our Queen,
No, not my lovely neighbour, known as gay Maurice
But the well known one seen on our huge TV screen
Married to some bloke from Greece!
Well folks that’s my Bah Humbug, for yet another year
I’ve yelled my lungs out, fumed and foamed, apologies for my outburst
But I suspect my anger and frustration will return in 12 months time I fear
And bet your life I will be a whole lot more rehearsed!
Copyright Gabe Majoss December 2015
When you see sugarplum reindeer pulling, a chocolate Santa in a golden sleigh It may have not been the dragée little protégée when you dance with a ginger man, at his house when three Christmases, become a nightmarish hole, made of marshmallows. It may have not been the snort of whiskey, in a mug where fairies, spirits or witches have their way dreams and your papaw becomes grampus hell bent like Krampus it may have not been the dragée little protégée it may have not been the snort of whiskey, in a mug but you were bitten by a little thing called, the humbug
Now all throughout the land we hear it said,
'Humbug' rings the air both loud and clear,
As all throughout the land the bills are paid
With Christmas funds we held both close and dear;
Without them, Christmas joy we’d lose, I fear.
It’s time to send the funds you’ve set apart,
Ensuring that goodwill remains so near
And Christmas will remain inside your heart.