Kit Kelen #361 - Christmas poem

361

Christmas poem

Jesus Christ was a man

and he travelled through the land

hard working man and brave

but the bankers and the preachers

they nailed him to a cross

and they laid Jesus Christ in his grave

– Woody Guthrie

lovely and wonderful

snow white and wise

antler, bearded, fleet of foot

tsunami surfing

something Christmas

this way comes

tinsel

preach to the creatures'

deaf ears

yule is a wrap

with bow and sticky

paper festive, cellophanous

best say my Christmas now

for threepence in the pud

dried fruit

o fellow perfection of birth

infant Christ

be saving me

I sin

today at the top of my sinning game

all are

be innocent with me

make mild

toys for the season – that's who we are

serious

nothing more sinister

o Christmas be fat

be chewey and savour

and Christmas bright

at a dram

come down the chimney

be sleigh-light

and saviour

leave out the garbologist beer

grace is such a state

and quaff

slot cars!

must have followed a star

no other way here

it's the best story

full grown

other end

how the poor boy gets up

takes it from the fuckers

and he's smarter than anyone

lego meccano

carpenter – builds many mansions

(dad's got room to add on

– the other dad I mean)

gets out on the water for fish

33

young fellow too

courage of convictions I'd say

doesn't mind washing feet

for a gesture

wilderness?

check!

seems prophetic

that's how it is to be foretold

it's all behold

and prepare ye a way

gets up on a hill for a soapbox

and spills

He knows how to share

knows the crowd and works it

he goes just a soul at a time

truth by truth

it's always your choice

look at him now

all manger and gurgle

curl of loose straw in his ear

who wouldn't come

and adore him like this?

it's all ahead of him today

and it's personal

the Christmas business

you could yourself be born

you could

climb to the top of the tree

but that's nothing

heavens are always above

doesn't everyone's story run like this

snake was travelling when we met

so who's a subtle beast?

smell of Christmas is in the bush

cicada hum to say

banksia women

coo-ee for the lost today

o wise wonderful

gum be scribbled

here's another story

we'll never read

I do believe it's an art we're at

more beautiful than we ever knew

just to be where we are