12/2010

Written by Ken Carman We used to have so much fun celebrating my birthday, back before Dad said he was well pleased with me. Mom’s been dead a long time. For a while I didn’t even come home for the holidays. Dad and I were a bit, well, distant. Might say in my darkest time he had forsaken me. I’m home now. I have been for a long time. But Dad is still distant. I heard he used to have so much fun before I was born. Am I to blame for the fact he doesn’t do the flood thing anymore, or turn those who disobey into salt? He said a fire next time, but everybody has been waiting, waiting, waiting… if only someone would stick a fire up his celestial you know what. If only he’d open up to me. Have a father to son, son to father, chat. We could do so much together. Heal the sick, cast out demons, tease Satan into thinking one of us will betray the other. Fun times. But, no, he’d rather me just talk to everyone. Some kind of go between. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone, not even me. Dad…

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Written by Millie Jenny C. Bits of greenery everywhere Holly leaves, berries sporting sparkles. . . candles. . . and brightly colored lights. Homes adorned inside and out with fake and the real sights And imaginings of flights. Lights shaped into Christmas trees, Stars, candles, Santa’s and Santa sleighs, snow men and some snow women Mangers with many baby Jesus’ and wisemen visiting from many a-fars Following all of the those multi-colored stars. Pine trees and pine sprigs and sprays Making many Christmas displays and performing …and celebrating in plays. Folks rushing about trying to find bargains Darting in and out among snowflakes falling. . . Trying to find that one perfect gift or Trying to make that perfect gift or confection. . . To best celebrate the spirit of the Season. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all And a very wonderful Holiday Season to all And many, many “Good” nights. _________________________________ Copyright 2010 Millie Jenny C. – 12/16/2010 all rights reserved

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Written by Ken Carman The three wisemen stood outside discussing what they would do next. They hadn’t gone into the stable yet. Inside they heard a lot of cries and screams. The meaning was obvious: a mother and a father in anguish. Even the animals were making sounds: brays of fear, snorts of disgust… but they didn’t know what the actual words meant. “So we need to set it to…” “Aramaic, with local variations. The sensors picked it all up as we waited for this day and they have been fed into the devices.” With a silent night set of a translator the conversation became self evident, and their own words would be directly broadcasted into the minds of the beings inside the stable. It also effected how the mind perceived them. They would be seen as human. “But what do we do with it? A ‘Savior’ that looks like this? No one will accept his teachings, if it even is a he. Joseph, what do we do? The star, the omen, God’s light has faded. Could this not be the Savior? Be evil? Be of…” “Have no fear Mary, we are 3 wisemen from afar.” “You have come only…

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Written by Lilith Raymour Christmas dreams Christmas nightmares Schemes to get what one wants Pool inside the porridge One finds Inside mixed up human minds Are they from God? Jesus? Santa? The Grinch? Will we awake With a more realistic pinch When we die To find the old goof’s sleigh Was hauled off By some celestial Parking cop wench With her winch For improper Theological parking? Jesus never said Celebrate my birth Eat turkey and dressing Increase your girth And I hear He never said Love each other Only one day Out of the year But we dress it up On that single day Anyway And encourage Little tykes To dream of Dolls and bikes Mass marketed love That only theologically pleases Buddy Jesus __________________________ ©Copyright 2010 Lilith Raymour all rights reserved

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Written by Ken Carman God is male, female Black, yellow, brown and white If God were a collie, God would bite Leave you feverish Forever in thought Learning Then relearning God cannot be bought Not with apples, praise, worship or gold God sometimes seems the enemy Still you must grab hold Ride life’s mad carousel To the times God is a friend But remember… God is never an ear for you alone to bend God is never the property of one book, society, or sect God is… Not what you expect ___________________ ©Copyright 2002 Ken Carman all rights reserved

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Written by Orin Vee (The author’s take on the devil. To right of poem: picture of the Devil from Codex.) Lurking in the darkness Hidden from your view Awaits the Puppet Master To pull the strings for you Your conscious mind assures you You are still in full control For it knows not of the Master That lies within your soul All those funny feelings The ones you can’t explain Merely gentle tugs of unseen threads Woven in your brain A self-made man you’ve made yourself A fortune and a fame But you’re really only a playing piece In the Puppet Master’s game So if you’re feeling lucky Remember, nothing’s left to chance For without the puppet’s master The puppet would not dance _______________ ©Copyright 2000 Orin Vee all rights reserved

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Written by Ye Olde Scribe Gather round boys, gulls and all you Martin Mull wannabes out there. Ye Olde has a Christmas tale to tell you, if you care. Twas the night the fat Dude dives down a chimney, by giminie. No, not that guy you caught with your wife from Bimini. You did bury him in last year’s toxic gift wrappings imported from China, right? No worry. Scribe won’t tell. At least not tonight. All through Martin Mull’s pad there nary a sound. Not even the drunk mouse who did pound. Pound what? Why the wine Martin thought just Wiki Leaked out of the package. Then Mouse-y went home to the Misses whom he did pound with his tiny Christmas-y sackage. That twere the sound Martin heard that did peak with a meek, yet scream-like, squeak, squeak, squeak. Then the house shook. No small matter. One very fat Dude’s team landed with a splatter. Just as Scribe did fear. Why it’s almost as if the night sky started to rein… deer. Santa was blue. With dead deer, what to do? What to do? Santa left at home his other team of Barney-purple gnus. Down the chimney went who? Santa,…

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Santa’s new sleigh

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Until next year…

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