Christmas in the Bone

Christmas Day
On my way to work
6:45 a.m.
The only other people
Beggars and workers
I have my giant Marshall headphones on
Listening to Marc Maron interview
Elvis Costello
But as I go
About my day, making coffee
Dealing with food and medicine
And issues
There’s an undertone
That lies in the bone
Surfacing on the 25^th of the 12^th
Falling down from my shelf
To heart and soul
For I’ve no control
Something I can’t deny
Even if I try
This feeling of Peace and Goodwill
Of all humankind
As one
Like Christmas day in WW1
A seasonal warning
Echoes of Scrooge
His epiphany on Christmas morning
A gladness like no other
Every person sister or brother
In this great wave of humanity
This blesséd sea
Every you and every me
Love expounded in every way
On Christmas Day.

Christmas Is Too Big For Christ

CHRISTMAS IS TOO BIG FOR CHRIST

Christmas is a time for love,
Despite the hectic push and shove,
We’re reminded that we all are one,
That peace and joy do have a place,
In uniting the human race,
There is something we are all part of,

This spirit Mister Dickens felt,
That makes the hardest Scrooge heart melt,
We can’t risk losing it, no not a smidgeon,
For unity is our motif,
Regardless of our own belief,
That’s too vital to screw up with religion,

The idea sounds quite radical,
He at least needs a sabbatical,
Been more than two millenia,
With all this Jesus business,
The world’s changed more than he could fathom,
We’ve moved on to Lennon’s Imagine,
So though it will offend some, yeah,
Let’s take Christ out of Christmas,

So let’s stick with snow and sleighbells,
Grand hellos and then faretheewells,
Auld Lang Syne, Good will to all you know,
Be it Kwanza, Christmas, Hannukah,
I’ve something here for all of ya,
Come on over ‘neath the mistletoe,

https://soundcloud.com/ken-donner/christmas-is-too-big-for-christ

Desperate Measures

In the end they decided,
There was no way to fight it.
And we all accepted the change.
The only way to protect them,
Was to bullet proof and escort them,
From the school buses to the classrooms.
To the list of supplies,
Mom and dad had to buy,
They added Kevlar helmets and vests.
If they couldn’t afford it,
Or chose to ignore it,
Their kids’ safety was not guaranteed.
For even though there were plexiglass,
Windows in every class,
It just couldn’t stop every round.
Why just the other day,
A boy was hit by a stray,
High-calibre round that got through.
Though thank god, he survived.
‘Cause his vest saved his life.
And he’ll be at school the next day.
But last month, unfortunately.
A little girl was not so lucky,
For she took off her helmet,
To scratch her head.
A bullet came through the window,
And now she’s dead.

Best Before Date

http://www.rawstory.com/2015/12/gun-linked-to-paris-attacks-traced-back-to-florida-arms-dealer-implicated-in-iran-contra-scandal/

Bullets have no best before date.
Nor do bombs or landmines.
Things that kill, maim, or mutilate,
Seem to get a pass from time.
But your milk will curdle,
And your bread grow mould,
Veggies become fertile,
Candy hard, chocolate old.
Maybe bullets should go bad.
Perhaps last an hour.
Before turning weak and sad,
And losing all their power.
Instead what gives life,
Is at best fleeting,
Whilst things that take life,
Prove to be time-beating.