Long Christmas Poems
Long Christmas Poems. Below are the most popular long Christmas by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Christmas poems by poem length and keyword.
"Bat Crazy 5"
Some say
she was batsh** crazy
life hits the windscreens
in the labyrinth of life
that way
the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick
an upwards inflection, “You know”,
in the Queen’s Land, "all under control"
the open palm under the shaft
moving all the way up to 5,
reflecting on the mirror rearview
she watches the eyes
of her child
dreaming of open highways
the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick
never once moving from 5
the left all the way up to targa 5
right hand up on the wheel
left hand down right up to 5
windows spitting emeralds
like a baphomet
the two finger salute
the other above so below
watches on
"here we go again",
the 1 above it all
watches on
as above so below
that 1's long-suffering
that way, aghast, but resolute,
that 1 has never-ending reserves
of eternal patience
and watches on
perplexed
her mind geared on
how to kill off
a spider
and his sister, next
changing lanes
easier said than done
when you're hell-bent on
Freedom
the highway sign
Happy New Year
flashes ever onwards by,
foot to the floor
left brain baffled
at forgiveness
at Christmas
long gone by
right hand on the wheel
left hand down
open palmed
shifting gears
accelerating increduality
towards the accuracy
in the justice of karma
drivers sitting on both shoulders
inside the vehicle
holding the wheel
the internal speaks
to the universe
listening
for kindness
and answers
on a lost highway
Blue Sky
nods, as if in agreement,
that 1's always amused -
but never confused, that way
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“Is it possible to switch dimensions?
There is currently no conceivable way to get to these if they exist, and they may only be possible, not actual. To travel between realities, they need to be in proximity. To be in proximity and not interact, they need to be incompatible. If it is a compatible universe you could travel to, it is already here.”
"Won’t you let me know,
if you made it home that night
Oh won’t you let me know
If our bones made it home alright..."
Unaffordable, yet valiant speeding,
tailgating, and zooming Pep Boys, I cannot dodge.
Yours truly grief stricken
(sob... sob... sob)...
wheely hard to bear
this anticipatory anxiety
riddled joker impossible
mission thwarting despair
death knell tolled (told),
woebegone news, I did fear
hears stunned me into silence,
the unwelcome prognosis,
I needed to hear
no joke, but good humor
totally wrecked vehicle forces
yours truly to become...,
no not a lion tamer
but, yes a panhandling junketeer
begging, copping, dilly dallying... ha
to accept unpleasant
unexpected dire straits
gravely digging within lithosphere
bidding... fare thee well
treasured automobile faithful and near
synonymous with ideal paramour, yet now
must confront stark reality,
lack ample disposable income available
no financial resources to persevere,
and worse case scenario me
and the missus will need to don
faux Santa Claus outfit,
and roundup available reindeer
for ourselves (yea... yea... yea...,
I realize how spare
and tired, pessimistic,
forlorn success such short notice
unless if... nah no fat or slim chance...
apocalypse ushers abominable thermonuclear
war, (I doubt Trump would
pull publicity stunt
to be re elected - ha) whereby
Beatle browed, foo fighting
foreigners, survivors impressed, feted,
compensated... for service
unless they willingly volunteer.
Combination future pluperfect
birthday presents and Noel hi
Christmas gifts well nigh,
noah ark cake "FAKE" attempt,
to hoodwink, engine ear,
trunk hate, et cetera
drum, harp, trumpet... belie
including objective to shanghai,
nor fall out of good amazing graces
toward (me) garden variety generic guy
providing steadfast generous
figurative air supply to fortify,
revving me shaky talent,
ye may oft times decry
as unintelligible gobbledygook
brainstorming ideas to try
single handedly ambidextrously
poetically kindle indeed codify
to elucidate how transportation
car reared and gone awry
moderate expenses as original parts wear out,
(i.e. battery, fender, brakes,
hood latch, shock absorber, tires...
albeit almost all simultaneously), hence I sigh
aware expounding circumstance that doth defy
immediate resolution incumbent to pacify
troubleshoot immediate impasse
squarely render quintessence
problem solving the overriding
challenge, I vilify.
Greeted by the multi-lit display
draped over the hedges
and the railing of our front porch,
the brilliant lit Christmas tree
winks at us, welcoming us home
from the Christmas Eve Mass.
You settle comfortably in your chair
as I walk into the dining room.
Sitting down, I light the lone candle
on the table and contemplate
its flame, dancing and whirling
in the darkened room.
The flame draws me
into its story.
Its bright yellow light
thinly framed in blue,
speaks to me about
many dark places
penetrated by its light:
caverns and street corners,
vast fields and mighty forests,
tall buildings and small homes,
and the darkest place of all
… the human heart.
The flame tells the story
of a long time ago,
of a world enveloped
in the darkest of nights.
Violence and cruelty,
poverty and pestilence
heaped upon a brutalized,
battered and lost humanity.
In a miserable stable,
its walls and floor painted
in manure and straw,
the dark dank smell of
wet hay, and its livestock denizens
filling the air, there lies
in a feed trough a light more brilliant
than the dancing flame.
The flame of that light
dances in the eyes
of his homeless parents,
his mother who birthed him,
and his proud, protective father.
The light is reflected
in the eyes of the animals
shuffling about in their stalls,
and in the eyes of the shepherds
and the travelers from afar.
My gaze, fixed on the flame,
widens as I detect
other shadowy shapes
around the table.
I sit in communion with
my father and my mother,
my sister and my brother,
their lives, like others,
lived in various degrees
of perfection and imperfection,
drawn to this light whilst alive,
and now in the life beyond,
join with me transfixed
by the light of the candle.
I smile to be once again
in their company, and,
with a nod and a parting glance
their shapes slip back
into the shadows of the room.
Once more alone with the light,
an image forms in my mind,
that eternal light birthed
in Bethlehem so long ago,
which danced in the eyes
of Mary and Joseph,
in the eyes and hearts
of many burdened by the weight
of scandal and shame,
poverty and despair,
which the world was unable
to crush and snuff out,
this light will always be there
to guide and to light me
through the dark corners
of my life yet to be,
to the eternal Christmas awaiting me.
Gonifs and gossips revisited
since originally being crafted
approximately half dozen
dirty deeds done dirt cheap years ago...
Abound and lurk
within every nook and cranny
analogous to some annoying pest
harmless though one reside here,
when off his meds goes berserk
here at Highland Manor Apartments.
They snatch and snitch packages -
meant for other than themselves -
think Grinch who stole Christmas
plus snoop, i.e. eavesdrop
big Dumbo ears as listening devices
(batteries not required)
or serve as rumor mongers
to don self importance
and trumpet "FAKE NEWS."
We (yours truly and his misses)
dwelled at aforementioned residence
July first 2025 will be eight years,
and no sooner did both of us set foot
on premises than hearsay
immediately promulgated
(metaphorically swirled about our heads),
and passed like greased lightning
thru the robust grapevine
purportedly wife of mine
brought in live snakes.
Oddly and interestingly enough though,
I never actually never heard nor saw
a fellow resident
talk (or whisper in hushed tones)
about me outright.
Rather than badmouth other feisty folks,
which leaves unpleasant virtual
aftertaste described as phooey zook,
thus comeuppance to reprobate recipients
I activate viz cluck
king silly reasonable rhyme,
(so keeps head up
for urbane adverse city slicker
you better watch out
(...better not shout...) just duck
and run for cover cuz poet took
effluvia enroute spouted by word huck
stir, he avoids naming
(chatterboxes whose lives
so devoid of meaning,
they figuratively kickstart tittle-tattle),
who vocally ramp up
some juicy tidbit with any luck
taking page from former president playbook
letting their lips uncontrollably run a-muck
totally oblivious to credibility factor being a schmuck
buzzfeed initial kernel of truth and truck
outrageous zingers suitable for National Enquirer,
tragicomical, cuz mistruths
courtesy tenants exhibit chutzpah to pluck
farfetched outright lies and innuendos
rolling of tongues of then occupants such as:
"Bible Thumper/Holy Roller,"
"Bingo/ Phat Cathy,""Crooked Old Man,"
"Curvy Girl/Thunder Thighs," "Frumpty Dumpty
"Mush/Smash Mouth, "Snaggletooth,"
"The Bodyguard," "The Fossil," "The Schvartze,"
"Winkle," and last but not leased "Zha Zha”.
Give me fruit flies, mice
and/or roaches any day,
or give me death!
True Christmas Miracle True Story Full version written by Wendy Horder. 2020
Huddled in muddy trenches, the soldiers heard an eerie sound.
Troops were English, French & Belgians, and as they looked around,
The sound was coming from the German enemy lines just 50 yards away.
It was singing, and the German soldiers were approaching on that day.
It was the twenty fourth of December nineteen fourteen.
Between France and Belgium, The Western Front, was the scene.
As Germans left their trenches a cry of “Merry Christmas” could be heard.
Our solders could only watch without saying, even one word.
The German solders looked so jovial, it didn’t seem to be a trick,
Our soldiers hesitated, slowly coming out, their actions were not quick.
Soon they were striding up to the oncoming soldiers, accepting their invite.
The beautiful singing drew them in, even though they feared it wasn’t right.
There was laughing and joking, and they all exchanged gifts sent from home.
Seemed all men were the same, didn’t matter from where they roam.
They smoked and showed each other photos of their children & wives.
For a short time, they were comrades not one bit afraid for their lives.
As night fell, drowned in soft moonlight, German carols filled the air.
For the first time since the war began, each soldier felt comfort there.
Laughter resounded, and the allies began O Come All Ye Faithful, in tune.
Germans sang the same Hymn, in Latin Adeste Fideles, under the moon.
I wonder if it crossed their minds “Just what are we fighting for?”
How extraordinary, enemies singing together a carol in the middle of a war.
By morning gifts of cake, smokes and clothes were exchanged by each side.
Men chatting as a magician and a juggler were enjoyed, with eyes open wide.
A barber in civilian life, gave haircuts. Soldiers had notes they addressed,
Hoping to be taken to their loved ones in France and England in the west.
Soccer broke out. The game went hours, that history making Christmas day.
Soldiers on both sides spent time burying their comrades, to their dismay.
Soldiers who had been killed in fighting that preceded that wonderful truce.
A truce that should be an example of what we humans can willingly produce.
A true show, that men aren’t killing machines, everyone, a husband or a son.
A true Christmas Miracle from the bloody chapters of World War One.
This Christmas, I am moved by the names in the genealogy of Jesus. I find the Biblical genealogy of Israel and Jesus to be a very fascinating study. There are four named women in the genealogy of Jesus and one name referenced. They are TAMAR, Rahab, Ruth, and Mary: Bathsheba is referenced to as Urias' wife.
When one reads TAMAR's story*, there is the feeling that what she did about her situation was over the top, out of culture, way out of line, and out of the realm of Godliness. By the same token, if we put our feet in her shoes, during her time, we might feel the same as she did regarding her plight and how to remedy the situation. Her patience ran completely out, and she felt that her father-in-law Judah was not living up to his responsibility. However, she did not bother to appeal to a greater earthly authority, nor did she bother to consult with The Lord. She took matters into her own hands, and although her approach was deceitful, her outcome was acceptable to her.
Judah's verdict against her, by current human standards, seemed judgmental and harsh. But Tamar forced him to face the truth and to commute her sentence of death. TAMAR proved to be a force to be reckoned with.
Judah speaks to all of us who spend our lives seeking self-gratification and running rampantly in our reckless self-righteousness. TAMAR speaks volumes about taking matters into our own hands, seeking desperately to find a fix for what ails us. More often than not, such fantasy fixes end in failures, and we live with the consequences. Self-righteousness is often very subtle and is capable of wrapping itself around the best of us. It's the type that says, "If I was writing a Holy Book, there would not be space on my Holy pages for the likes of Judah and Tamar". As a human filled with flaws, flops, and failures of my own, I am most grateful for the grace of God that has been extended to me. Both Judah and TAMAR, by no goodness of their own, found themselves in the genealogy of 'The Christ" who presents Himself as the Savior of the whole world. That includes Judah, TAMAR, you, and me.
12042017PoSoupContest, Favourite Poem From December 2017, Julia Ward
*Genesis 38
Three Score and Fifteen Years Ago
By Franklin Price
11/14/2020
Three score and fifteen years ago
I was born upon this earth
Joined a family of eight,
Was the ninth, for what it's worth
Four sisters and two brothers
A mother, father there for me
I was to be the last of them
That nevermore would be
Was brought home to my siblings
Who were shown I was a boy
They were told it was not Christmas
That I was not a little toy
Spread of ages, ten long years
Stuart Taylor to begin
Then, Nancy Ruth and Shirley Lou
Stopping then, would be a sin
Earl Joseph, Laura Gertrude
Were the next ones in the game
Judith Carol just before me
Franklin Arthur is my name
Brought home to Merritt Island
Yes, the one of lunar lore
Was then a growing citrus place
Barely had a country store
We had no city water
No AC then, you know
No TV there for watching
Listened to the radio
Milk brought by the milkman
Port Canaveral had no cruise
Truman was the president
The local paper brought the news
Many years have gone by
Helped shoot man to the moon
My father and my mother gone
Some siblings, way to soon
Nancy Ruth and Laura Gertrude
And myself are still around
They're now octogenarians
Five more years and I'll be crowned
My life has been exceptional
The best wife for fifty years
In seven days it's fifty-one
Can still remember that from here
Left High School in sixty four
Sixty- eight in Vietnam
Sixty-nine sent man off to the moon
It's great to be the who I am
Married, November, sixty-nine
To my wife and daughter too
They were the rocks within my life
For the things that I would do
Involved with start up ventures
Traveled all around the globe
Collected hotel ashtrays
Lots of shampoo and a robe
Had my own small business
A little longer than a score
Rode on Harley cycles
Three hundred thousand miles and more
Rode all the lower forty-eight
Three provinces above
A thousand miles in Africa
All of these with my true love
So you see it's been a great life
And I'm only seven- five
I got up this fine morning
It's still great to be alive
Friends and family, who read this
And know of these things I say
Know you helped to make it great
As I traveled on the way
Here's a toast to all of us
And the passed days since our birth
I'm sending love to all of you
For all that may be worth
On the Twenty Fifth, December Night,
Black Skies Sparkle with bright light!
Church Bells ring,Ding!Dong!Ding!
Chores of angels ,start to sing!
Merry Christmas!Everyone!
Happy Birthday,Jesus Son.
We rejoice in prayer and joy,
as We thank this New Born Boy,
He is Born for You and Me,
from Our darkness ,sets us free.
Christmas time,a time for Friends,
Tender Hugs and shaking Hands.
Red Holllies in Window Sills,
Deers and sleighs,Over the Hills.
Cheery music in the streets,
Christmas time,a time for peace,
Neighbours sharing Merry greets,
robin's nest, safely in trees..
Its a time we give Our best,
thinking more about the rest,
Christmas Cards,a Christmas Gift,
Its Our time,to give and give!!
Christmas Spirit,Home sweet Home,
A star twinkling ,on each Dome.
Lots of toys, For Homeless Kids,
Stories told and ancient myths.
Brindisi ! a toast! Saluting with a kiss,
Warm mulled wine,We never miss..
French Beres,Red coats to dress,
in their tails,Men, look their best.
Decorating Christmas trees,
altogether,Families!
Phone calls ,far across the miles,
Happy Cries and lovely smiles.
Stocking with little surprise,
Before New Dawn,wake and rise.
Five course lunch, For Everyone,
Turkey roasted,just well done.
Aunties,Cousins ,join together,
On this Christmas ,Winter Weather.
At four tea,a Christmas Bun!
Crowd in Chit Chat,having Fun.
Grandma ,bakes ,a Christmas Cake
Snowballs,Mince Pies and Fig Dates.
I prepare ten christmas logs,
Cherries,Nuts,Whisky and Chocs,
Yummie Candies,so delicious,
Forget all which is nutritiuos..
Little Crib in every House,
Grandpa dress as Santa Clause,
Presents,granting many wishes,
Christmas Day, so very precious.
Missletoe and Gleaming eyes,
Christmas Carols,Christma Rhymes.
Cosy Eve,Burning Flames of Fire place,
Spicy wood and Indoor games.
Long Processions in the Streets,
all the Door Knobs Hold Gold Wreaths.
Candle lights in Children's hands,
Miss Christmas and Snow men Dance!
All the Nations holding Hands,
War Is Over,Still a Chance!
Many Blessings On Our Lands,
Merry Christmas Super Friends..
Merry Christmas Everyone,
Welcome Home,Enjoy the Fun! :)
(Inspired by Caroline Devonshire)
(Welcome in my picture of Christmas Landia)
Charma
Tale of two angels
who lived in a poor neighborhood
who thought nothing would work
but God knew it would.
Everyday they woke up to nothing
no food, no water, no new clothes
but no one knew
but only God knows.
Their mother prayed everynight
to the Lord on the thrown,
wishing all her tears and troubles
would one day be gone.
She did the best she could
all that she could
to raise her beautiful daughters
on her own and everyday this is what she told them.
"I gave you wings to fly
and a mouth to confess and never tell a lie.
I gave you lungs and air to breathe
I gave you a shoulder to lean on
when you couldn't beat the speed."
One Christmas Eve,
the girls were bored
so their friends invited them to a church.
Instead of having nothing to do,
in the church they did discover who...
they discovered a youth meeting being held
in the back of the church.
They walked into the room
just as steady as they pleased,
they sat down on their knees
and listened to what their was left to say,
which made them quite pleased.
They went home after the sermon,
went to their room, got on their knees
and began to cry, they sat on the floor
in her time of weakness and dispare
to think and wonder how much their mother really cared.
Shouting out to the Lord, they did scream
their love for God had grown
every stitch and seam.
"Lord she has done so much
to provide for us
now can you hold her hand and stand beside us.
Christmas is not about presents, it's about
celebrating your birthday, your name
its not about growing up in fortune and fame.
Lord you are God
and we know you will provide
but I pray this pray
to the heavenly father that sits on his thrown
in the sky." They prayed this prayer over and over again
until there was nothing left to hear
except for the sound of the wind.
The next morning they woke up to find
a tree full of presents,
a table with breakfast already made,
and a dinner being prepared as if for a hundred slaves.
The family rejoiced
because God would always make a way
when things were going wrong
a way was made out of no way.
He started with little and everything multiplied
they rejoiced so much
their praises did reach the sky.
It started to rain
"Don't worry child, Jesus is crying
and rejoicing to because we are so blessed
to have two little angels like you."
Form:
Its off to grandma's old fashion cottage we go;
past snow covered pine trees all in a row.
To her humble abode adorned in holiday charm,
And two grey horses inside the red painted barn.
Inside a crackling fire warming- nothing to compare.
With flickering flames dancing with flair,
Mesmerizing grandpa with a hypnotic spell.
And up the chimney smoke bid's farewell.
Grandma's cooking in her colorful blouse
the smell of baked bread drifts about the house,
And Grandpa snoring, asleep in his comfy old chair
in a plaid shirt and head with no hair.
Outside freshly fallen snow- a winter wonderland,
With frolicking young children mittens on hands
playing with vigor on freshly fallen snow
Their rosy red cheeks fully aglow.
Carolers singing along the snow covered street
each one adorned with a smile to greet
With sleigh bells jingling
and people joyously singing.
The aroma of roasted chestnuts swirls in the frosty air
On Maple street near the town square.
The White Chapel's steeple reaching toward the sky
A glorious symbol to the faithful eye.
Inside the tiny White Chapel with lights burn bright
a beacon to the world on this most glorious of nights.
Inside rich harmonious voices with glory to sing
As flying wild geese with the moon on their wings.
The parson adorned in modest vestment
As the choir sings- a worthy testament
Outside its silent, still and calm
Inside the congregation seeks the Savior's healing balm.
Cheerful hearts gratitude they bring
patiently waiting to celebrate the birth of their king.
For it came upon a mid night clear
as their voices raise for the Lord to hear.
Inside grandma's cottage on this snowy Christmas Eve
snuggled warmly asleep in their bed
waiting for Santa's with presents filled in his sled.
Billy, Tommy, Freddy and Steve
Next to the fireplace for Santa to find.
A glass of warm milk and cookies to dine.
Upstairs Sally and Sue unable to sleep
waiting for Santa to get a sneak peek.
Christmas Tree lights blink with a fury
the children wanting Santa to hurry
And mom and dad quietly sitting
Grandma in her rocker quietly knitting.
Decorated stockings hung with care from the fireplace
Sally’s and grandpa's adored with red and white lace
photos of grandchildren that grew up too fast
Grandmother's cottage with memories of Christmases past.