All I Want For ChristmasAll I Want For Christmas9 years ago in Poetry More Like This
Oh, all I want for Christmas is a smaller set of breasts:
Forget about the candy canes, the eggnog and the rest.
Hey Santa, if you're listening then let me really stress,
I mean it when I say I need to 'get this off my chest'!!!
I 'member how I used to play in mother's cast-off clothes;
The evening dress, the high heels and the baggy pantyhose.
I'd stuff my top with kleenex 'til the bodice hit my nose:
Gee, whoda thunk I'd end up with a pair bigger than those?!?!?!
When older, I tried basketball but I'd just end up sore.
I'd bounce the ball across the court but both my breasts bounced more!
And golf was just a waste of time-I seldom had a score:
My boobs just checked my swing before I even could yell 'Fore!'
Now, I can hear you laughing but you really have no clue,
Just what it's like to jump rope and end up all black and blue!
I'd wear the tightest bra I could, but what's a girl to do?
No matter how I'd bind 'em they just grew and grew and GREW.
Yes, Dolly with her triple D's does rea
Reindeer PauseReindeer Pause9 years ago in Prose More Like This
[Santa's Workshop, the North Pole. It is Christmas Eve, and the warm glow of the shop illuminates the gently falling snow outside. Stillness hangs in the air, but also the weight of expectation; of joys soon to come. Any time now, the elves will walk out to the nearby barn and hook the reindeer to Santa's sleigh, where they will perform the time-honored duty of delivering to every good chil--]
BLITZEN: Augh, screw it! Screw Christmas in its cute little button-nosed face! (paws angrily at the warm earth of his stable)
PRANCER: Now, now dear. You know these outbursts don't do you any good.
BLITZEN: Out of my business, Prancer! You know it just gets worse every year!
CUPID: (peers out from the top of her stable) Is old Blitzkrieg firing his guns again?
PRANCER: No, Cupid. And if he were, you wouldn't be helping right now.
CUPID: Uh-huh. (shouts over) C'mon, Blitzen—cheer up! It'll all be over before you know it!
BLITZEN: That's exactly it! We do this job for one night every y
Christmas-timeNow colored lights throw vibrant spritesChristmas-time9 years ago in Poetry More Like This
In arcs around the trees
The burning wicks of candlesticks
Bow low before the breeze
The powdered snow and mistletoe
Contribute to the cheer:
And young and old don't mind the cold
For Christmas-time is near.
Now stockings grace the fireplace
And children wait with glee
For soon, they know, the space below
Their decorated tree
Will fill with stuff – oh, soon enough
Their presents will appear –
For by the laws of Santa Claus,
Their Christmas-time is near.
Now eggnog flows, and winter blows
Its fury o'er the hills
We warm our hands and dream of lands
Outside the windowsills.
The sound of bells approaching tells
The news in voices clear:
November's done – the cold's begun –
And Christmas-time is near.
The children sleep. Outside, the deep
And windswept banks of snow
Accumulate beside the gate.
The frozen rivers flow.
I hold you tight. The candlelight
Is in your eyes, my dear –
And you and I, we softly sigh
For Christmas-time is here!
Her Broken WingYou never saw a girl hold quite so much beautyHer Broken Wing9 years ago in Poetry More Like This
But looking pretty has always been her duty
She never deserved such life of cruelty.
Almost angelic, her dress a dark shade of white
There's something about her that isn't quite right
Un-noticed in all but a certain light.
The expression on her porcelain face, pale as a corpse...
The disturbing looks of anguish, pain and remorse
The face of a young woman aged by force.
Sadness curling the corners of her lips
She moves in the same way an old record skips
And she's at the mercy of my fingertips.
You can't giftwrap a kiss but she'll try her best
A drop of blood runs down the sleeve of her dress
Her left wing is torn, and her dreams nothing less.
Where blood once coloured her cheeks like peaches
Tears run down them now, polluting her features
She longs to be airborne like the other winged creatures.
Her aching heart still b