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The Colours Of Christmas

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  • The Colours Of Christmas

    How cheery, how gay, our Christmas display,
    With colours all blinking and bright!
    The presents are spread by the foot of the bed,
    And there they lie still every night.

    The tree that was green has lost all its sheen,
    And needles are spread on the floor.
    The candles are spent, the cards are all bent,
    In a pile that has grown by the door.

    The charming old fellow has gone sort of yellow,
    As he sat by the faulty gas fire.
    And now he is dead with slime for a head,
    And his house has a smell that is dire.

    The crackers are green as the other cuisine,
    The turkey is turning to mush.
    The cheese is all black and starting to crack,
    And all through the house there’s a hush.

    The curtains are drawn, the neighbours are gone,
    And so he still sits all alone.
    The beetles are fat as they feast on his cat,
    For all that is left are some bones.

    The blue lights are flashing as policemen are bashing,
    Their way through that decorous door,
    But all they will find is some tangerine rind,
    And a cake that has started to spore.

    And Christmas remains with the smell and the stains,
    Though its April outside in the street.
    And the colours are gold but that’s just the mould
    Where Santa’s old corpse has now leaked.

    And to all a good night as you flee from the sight,
    Of a day that’s gone terribly wrong.
    So be of good cheer as your own end draws near,
    For one things is true, when your lips turn to blue,
    The neighbours will moan of your pong.

  • #2
    Wow! The horror and the rythm rhyme and subject ! Well done

    Comment


    • The Great Depression
      Editing a comment
      I just hope I captured the spirit of the season.

  • #3
    Hello. Nice rhythm and rhyme. I wonder if you could do without that first verse, just go straight to the disaster..

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    • The Great Depression
      Editing a comment
      A good question. I'm inclined to think the first verse must be as twee and sickly as it is as a reference point to understand the subversion of the form that follows. It's the difference between a Christmas poem gone wrong and just a horror poem with Christmas themes - that's what I was aiming for anyway. Thanks for the post. Hope you enjoy the zone as much as I.

  • #4
    Definitely a new take on an old tune.

    Comment


    • The Great Depression
      Editing a comment
      If you supply the music, I'll sing it for you. ;-)

  • #5
    Nicely done
    Your twee first verse
    already starts to lose its tweeness
    by the fourth line, a Christmas acid-reflux

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    • #6
      great poem ending tragic. very effective poetry.

      Comment


      • #7
        GD - You have delivered a poetic plate of fractured fear garnished with a side order of tinctured terror and a dashed desert made of distilled doom. You know! Now I'm getting hungry again. LOL. Most enjoyed your work and your colours GD. Namyh

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