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Redemption: a Typical Christmas Morning.
//-start of poem-\\
Oh Christmas is awful
It should be unlawful
I'll tell you some reasons why:
You try to be good
And wait as you should…
But s-l-o-w-l-y the Eve goes by.
As morning arrives
And greediness thrives
You rush to see what you got…
But when you get there
You hear “Don’t you dare!”
And so once again you’re caught.
At last the time comes
And everyone runs
While yelling “This pile’s for me!”
Still fighting the sleep
You look for your heap…
But tripping, you bump the tree…
“How clumsy you are!”
“You’ve broken the star!”
You hear these complaints and more…
Through efforts of Mom
It all becomes calm…
And soon the tree’s off the floor.
With joy that uplifts
You locate your gifts
And start to unwrap the sides…
“Hey wait for your turn!
Just when will you learn
That dig-ni-ty here resides.”
It’s your turn at last
You rip off real fast
The wrapping that hides a toy.
Yes paper and bows
And everything goes…
But Mother is now annoyed.
“Oh stop that right now!
I’ll teach you somehow
To open your gifts with care.
The next one you do
If done that way too
Shall be for us all to share!”
Your turn comes around
With care you look down
And s-l-o-w-l-y remove the bow.
“That’s doing it right.
Now don’t get uptight…
Unpeel the scotch tape real slow.”
It’s tape you don’t lack!
It covers the back!
It’s even stuck on the sides.
The gift is so large
That just like a Sarge
The patience you have subsides…
With which will you cope?
There’s really no hope.
You face a two-sided sword…
At last you decide
You want what’s inside…
It’s patience you lean toward.
It’s opened at last;
The crisis is past.
But wait, what is it you got?!?
It ain’t pairs of socks;
It’s one more big box…
Which also is wrapped real taut.
“Just what could it be?”
They all want to see
What Grandpa has placed inside…
So Mother gives in
And lets you dig in
(Putting her patience aside).
More boxes appear
And each one as feared
Contains yet another box…
You get to the end.
Just what did he send?
It’s not any toy that talks…
“Please open it dear.
There’s nothing to fear.
It’s just an old envelope…”
While reading the note
From Grandpa you’ll quote
(Knowing there now is no hope).
“I hope this is funny --
I’m fresh out of money --
But this I will leave, my dear:”
An I.O.U. note.
Upon which he wrote:
“Redeem for a gift next year.”
\\-end of poem-//
by > Roamoff
composed 1979.
submitted 01 Apr 2006.
Copyright © 1979 by Roamoff.
Redemption: a Typical Christmas Morning.
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I was pursuing an undergraduate degree while working part time to supplement my scholarship. My boss told me I would not get my job back the next semester unless I worked over the Christmas break. (I was writing a machine-language sorting algorithm to allow raster line printers to print graphics generated from pen commands.) I was so angry that I wrote this poem while walking to and from work in the cold and snow. It was patterned after " > Thanksgiving is Awful", but its meter is much better.
This poem was published in a small Phoenix-area paper in 1982 under its original title "Oh Christmas is Awful." I even made it into a play. I won several first place awards reciting it or performing it for talent shows or competitions around Christmastime.
I will write a personalized poem just for you. Go to > Purchase, Services (Services from Poet Roamoff) to see how to order one (and how to provide information I will use to write the poem).
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