HWARDE12@VERIZON.NET

 

POEMS I - Morbid Poems 4 Morbid People
POEMS II -
Morbid Poems - Big Liz'
POEMS III -
More Morbid Poems III POEMS IV - More Morbid Poems IV POEMS V - The Night Santa Lost Rudolf
POEMS VI - Christmas in Cuba
POEMS VII - One Day at a Time
POEMS VIII- Politically Correct
POEMS IX - One Kind Deed Each Day
POEMS X -
The Gamblin' Man
POEMS XI -
Ode to Michael Dell
Poems XII - Morbid Poems 4 Morbid People V

Morbid Poems 4 Morbid People

TABLE OF CONTENTS
  1. 'Twas the Night Before Christmas (Politically Correct Version) by Harvey Erlich
  2. The Night Santa Lost Rudolf  by Howard E. Morseburg'
  3. Twas the Night Before Christmas in Cuba  by Howard E. Morseburg

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''Twas the Night Before Christmas!
(Politically Correct Version!)
by Harvey Erlich

Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck.
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to Elves,
Vertically Challenged they were calling themselves.
And labor conditions at the north pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.


And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!
The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.


Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called Unenlightened.
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life.


Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.


Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets, they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.


For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football; someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.


He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere, even you.
So here is that gift, it's priced beyond worth.
May you and your loved ones enjoy Peace on Earth.

Notice: This poem is copyright 1992 by Harvey Ehrlich.

He says: FREE to distribute WITHOUT CHANGES as long as this notice remains intact.


 
THE NIGHT SANTA LOST RUDOLF
by Howard E. Morseburg

It was late Christmas day and all around the tree,

Sat the anxious and concerned  (Martin) family.
The dining room table hours before had been set,
But reliable ol' Santa had not arrived yet.
The children were all crying, their eyes rimmed with red,
They’d stayed awake through the night and not gone to bed.
There, the brightly lit tree, but not one gift in sight,
What had happened to Santa this long Christmas night?

There was no laughter, no happiness in the room,
All the adults were feeling the children’s deep gloom.
The anticipation they’d felt just 'fore the dawn,
Had now turned to worry as the day had dragged on.
Then came a loud pounding at the front of the house,
“What’s all that noise?” asked mother, “It can’t be a mouse.
Not gently rapping and tapping at our front door.
Why, who can it be? Must it go on evermore?"

 

Then father ran quickly and flung open the door,
There stood old Santa, who came stomping 'cross our floor,
His angry red face, 'neath his red hat trimmed in white,
Made it obvious he’d had a pretty rough night.
With a loud sigh he sat down and in a sad tone,
He told us why he'd arrived so late and alone.
“Rudolf and my reindeers...that darned S.P.C.A.
The rascals siezed them last night when I parked the Sleigh!”

Well, ol' Santa was arrested that very day,
By the shrewish Miss Quirk of the S.P.C.A.
Screaming “In one night you’ve worked him almost to death,
Good God, you old man,” and here she drew a deep breath,
“All night you’ve had him racing all over the sky,
You know there’s no oxygen when you’re up that high.
You carry those gifts for each spoiled-rotten child,
Abusing those animals, so loving and mild."

"You've had those eight darling reindeer speeding about,
Doing all the hard work while you just sing and shout!
Look at that heavy old sled piled high with those gifts,
You should have twice those eight reindeer working in shifts.
When’s the last time you gave these lovely dears a drink?
They get thirsty you know, or don’t you ever think?
And traveling the world, with no feed through the night,
Just to hand out all those gifts 'fore dawn’s early light?”

Well, by now she was completely red in the face,
“Well, ol' man, I'm going to put YOU in your place.
That’s cruelty to animals, you know that’s a fact.
Santa, you’ve just committed a criminal act!
Merry Christmas? Ha ha, Merry Christmas to you?
'Til now you've just seen it from your own point of view.
I’m telling you right now, man, you will rue the day
You tangled with Miss Quirk of the S.P.C.A.!

You’re very lucky old man that one didn’t die,
You’d be kissing forty years of your life goodbye.
With me animals come first, I want you to know,
They’re better than most people,” screamed the old crow.
“You’ll get at least twenty years,” she shouted with glee,
“Then I’ll be the happy one singing merrily.
Merry Christmas. Oh yes, Merry Christmas to all,
Santa, right now you’re about to take a big fall.”

Santa stood there sadly, just taking it all in,
She pounded her fist, shouting, “He’s guilty as sin.
Boys, take him below, put him away in a cell.
Until the day there’s a blinding snowstorm in hell.
Well, then Santa was questioned by Government men,
They put him through that same old ritual again.
"Are you fully insured against a work injury?
Show us your paid-up receipts and your policy!

Look, you’re flying about without identity lights,
You're not trained to use instruments on foggy nights.
You're required to have coverage for all girls and boys,
Because you’re handing out millions of dangerous toys.
Do you have a Sales Tax number for these gifts too,
Have you paid to the State every cent that they're due?"
And that poor little ol' man with such a big heart,
Was given extra time for just playing his part.

In time Mrs. Santa came to take the reindeer home,
She remained at the North Pole waiting, sadly alone.
(As for Rudolf, corralled, he grew listless and fat,
He sired four baby reindeer, but each was a brat.)

Santa was breaking rocks, then hauling them on skids,
There was no Christmas that year for the world’s lil’ kids.
And the months went by with kids more unhappy each day,
They had no new scooters, no Nintendos to play.
Winter, spring and fall went by, still Santa’s in jail,
There was no way to free him, they’d not grant him bail.
Christmas was coming, there’d be no Santa that year,
No shouts of joy, no presents, ‘twas everyone’s fear.

Forecasts were now gloomy: business would be down,
There was not a shopper in sight in any town.
The kids met together, they wanted old Santa,
They held a big Convention down in Atlanta.
They decided to take things into their own hands
And e-Mailed the children throughout all foreign lands.
Saying, "Help us save Santa Claus and Rudolf too,
So that we can have Christmas as kids always do."

They sent a group of little kids to Washington
And petitioned the Senate to get something done.
The President sat down and wrote out a Pardon,
Then invited the kids to tea in the Rose Garden.
That night they freed Santa and all of his reindeer,
By Executive Order his name was now clear.
He returned to the North Pole to finish the toys,
That he'd soon deliver to little girls and boys.
 
‘Twas cold that Christmas night and quite deep was the snow,
When Santa was ready for his Annual Big Show.
With elves scurrying around to load up the sleigh,
And eight tiny reindeer anxious to be on their way.
A sled full of toys in the air quickly rose,
There was Rudolf in front…a red light on his nose.
In back sat Santa Claus ready for his long flight,
Shouting, "Merry Christmas to all, to all a Good Night!"

 
Now the world’s little children have nothing to fear
Santa has returned and he’ll be back every year.
When Santa’s around the future always looks bright,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!"
 

EPILOGUE
It's an age old tradition for that merry call, 
Sing it loud, sing it clear, Merry Christmas to all.
Listen, young ones, if the ACLU has its way
There'll be no "Merry Christmas", no joy on that day.
They'd change our traditions, they're quite anxious to sue,
This nation will be Godless under the ACLU.
Remember, the First Amendment gives you the right,
The Freedom to Worship! Merry Christmas and good night.
 
Copyright 2001 Howard E. Morseburg (begun Oct. 26, 1995)
All Copyrights reserved.
 

THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS (IN CUBA)
(No Christmas in Cuba)
by Howard E. Morseburg
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the land,
No Christmas tree could be seen, because they were banned.
No stockings could be hung in the house anywhere,
(People were thought lucky if they had any to wear!).
No Roller Blades, Nikes, or Nintendos could be found,
There wasn’t a toy store in any town around.
Ol’ Santa had skipped Cuba, ‘twas not he forgot,
But Castro gave orders…if he’s seen…he’ll be shot.

There’s no joy at Christmas, that's where Santa can’t go,

There’s no joy at Christmas, ol' Fidel’s made it so.
There’s no freedom to worship, or just to critique,
In a Socialist system that’s not so unique.
The children must study the Communist dictum,
And all they can’t do is just part of the system.
Castro claims he’s their Santa, though his beard is black,
But he is the reason their economy’s slack.

Now let’s think of the children on this Christmas eve,

There’s no Christmas for them, no Santa to believe,
No toys under the tree, no special holiday,
No freedom of speech, no freedom to pray,
They study in school, then there’s field work to do,
The government controls every minute or two.
No tiny reindeer go there carrying them gifts,
There’s no joy at Christmas to give their spirits a lift.

There’s no joy at Christmas in a land that’s not free,

They don’t learn Christ’s story of the nativity.
There are no sparkling lights, there old friends dare not meet,
No carolers singing as they stroll down the street.
There's no celebration, it’s a day of hard work,
Their Santa’s just a deranged black-bearded old jerk.
There’ll be no joy in Cuba…for Santa can’t go,
There’ll be no joy at Christmas, Fidel’s made it so.

ABOVE TWO POEMS: Copyright 1994 & 2001 by Howard E. Morseburg

 If you'd like to reprint the above poem, please feel free to do so, but MAKE NO CHANGES and include my copyrights and a Link to this page.


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And, thanks. Have fun; that's what life is all about.With all due respect to the author of 'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,

 by Major Henry Livingstone, Jr. (1748-1828).



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POEMS FOR ALL MOODS

POEMS I -
Morbid Poems for Morbid People
POEMS II -
Morbid Poems - Big Liz'
POEMS III -
More Morbid Poems III
POEMS IV -
More Morbid Poems IV
POEMS V -
The Night Santa Lost Rudolf
POEMS VI - Christmas in Cuba
POEMS VII - One Day at a Time
POEMS VIII- Christmas Politically Correct
POEMS IX - One Kind Deed Each Day
POEMS X -
The Gamblin' Man
POEMS XI -
Ode to Michael Dell
Poems XII - Morbid Poems 4 Morbid People V



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