An Unusual Christmas Carol

Not the type you want to read to your under-age kids

An Unusual Christmas Carol

A blue star is calling, my mind's gone astray.
Such bright, flashing colours ! (I'm covered in hay.)

I raise up my arm to the heavens above:
"Oh, glorious light which I cherish and love.

Oh, jewel of the East, oh, sapphire, true . . .
I'm rich and I'm famous! (oops, blood in my shoe).

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Then suddenly there is a wry, little grin,
the blue gem is laughing and calling me in.

"My friend I am sorry, illusions won't pay.
I'm a half empty bottle, -I come from Bombay.

The blue light above is the ambulance car
to take you away. Oh, how foolish you are."

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"No, wait, no," I plead, "is it not Christmas time?
The dinner is waiting, so what is the crime?"

"There's no crime committed and no-one to nail.
We noticed the blueness.  Your face looks quite pale.

'Cos we are the angels. We'll take you away
to give your poor family a rest for the day."

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My angle is changing, I see a way out.
I jump to my feet and I whimper out loud:

"I'm down on my uppers, the bedroom is cold,
I don't get no suppers, 'cos my jokes are too old."

A blink of the eye and they all disappear
I'm alone with the spirit of blue and a tear.

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I follow the star and I fall in a ditch.
"Tomorrow . . . ,  I shall be famous and rich.

Tomorrow the stars will drop down in my lap.
Today I am poor and so free and so hap.

Come close, loving muse, kiss my mouth, it is sweet,
and dance with my heart to the wild Christmas beat."

 

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The matches are wet and the hay does no harm.
The bottle, now empty, drops dead from my arm.

The dresses so white and the voices are singing.
Hey, Sapphire, how could they say you're a-stinging?

Ah, blue star of heaven, yes, blue star of bright,
let me gently embrace you and love you tonight . . ."

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I wake. Sticks are poking, my feet are ice-cold.
I stumble to gather my overcoat-fold.

"Oh, cruel Sapphire, well, thank you so much
for the warm, gentle company and the warm, gentle touch."

I'm kicking the bottle. It shatters and dies.
I see the escaped, empty spirit arise.

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I'm no longer angry while I watch the blood pour.
It's not Christmas' s fault that I'm feeling so sore.

I tiptoe the path as if like a stranger.
The presents are there with the tree and the manger.

I'm glad and I shout : "Hey, good will to all men,
and bless you for filling my stocking with Zen."

 
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The angels are giggling, the clouds open wide.
The blue and the aether I take in my stride.

I'm bathing and flying and swimming so free
With Sapphire holding some bright shiny key.

The lock has a spring and a soft-sounding ping.-
while I disappear out of sight, and I sing . . .

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The morning right after the kids play about
when one of them suddenly winces out loud.

"Oh, mum, give me shelter, the wolves have been here
and killed and dismembered a beautiful deer."

"Don't worry my darling. Don't worry, don't cry.
'Tis Christmas, the season when some of us die."

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Reviews

[Ufi Auttorri ~ Amy C. T..]

Wow! Wow! Wow! ...how on earth did I miss THIS ONE!? I love this soooo much. It's just got so much going for it; all over the place. The rhythm, the word choice, the visuals, the story line. I am left with more questions than answers. You've either got to explain the inspiration for this or do a follow-on piece that turns the page. It's got some supernatural underpinnings and some elements of that old Jimmy Steward movie (the one where the bells ring and angels get their wings). OK, I'll shut up now. Awesomeness! |8o)