Open-Source Poetry Five #2

Dear Readers, have you ever visited SantaCon? It’s a magical combination of binge drinking, public urination and trauma to small children that everyone should experience at least once in their life. Why? Because it’s a reminder that no matter how bad things can get, there’s always something worse around the corner. We went once and were scared into leading fulfilled and happy lives from that point on!

We seriously have to wonder if SantaCon was invented by people who didn’t get any Christmas gifts right throughout their childhoods. It’s clear that they want adults to indulge the child within, rather than their actual children. And this would be a laudable goal if they weren’t puking all over one another in naked glitter-filled orgies. Is this their revenge on poor old Santa? It could be. Just read their rules:

Can I bring my kids?
Probably not. Kids get the rest of Christmas and all the other holidays. SantaCon is normally adults only.

Can I get smashed?
Sure. But if this is what you want to do, we ask that you stay home and don’t dress like Santa. Definitely don’t show up at a SantaCon.

Well, Dear Readers, let’s make it clear that we have no desire to cosplay Jung and Freud here. We’re merely trying to understand what exactly it is that motivates certain people to dream of being Santa whilst simultaneously wanting to kick the shit out of him. And although we might not understand this, we must concede that everyone has the right to go crazy in whatever fashion they choose. Crazy, after all, can be a lot of fun!

By the way, about the fun… It was great fun to read your submissions! There were a lot of terrific new lines that might have suited our communal letter poem thingy to Santa really well, and as such we felt our minds gradually slipping to the brink of cray cray in a way that was only mildly alarming. However, we eventually settled on SonOfDewangan’s submission because we felt it straddled that uncomfortable line of fun and crazy quite well. Congratulations, sir, you’re a psychotic fun wizard! Here’s how it looks:

Вензель

Dear Mr Santypoos, how do you do?
Hope you don’t have COVID and the deer are healthy too.
Hope Rudolph’s nose still is bright red.
Time to wake them elves up from their bed,
but please do it so it’s real gentle like
or they’ll sue you without so much as a first strike.

Вензель_нижний

(Oh, by the way! SonOfDewangan, we edited your lines a wee bit for the sake of the poem’s overall flow, so please don’t sue us! Everything is for the sake of poetry and getting nice gifts!)

So, Dear Readers, let’s keep this Santa friendly and socially responsible letter poem thingy going. We promise that neither you nor your kids will get smashed, even should you choose to dress like a drunken Santa, his red nosed, allergy-ridden reindeer, or even his outrageously big bosomed wife with the tinkly bell nipple piercings. All you need do is follow these simple festive steps:

1) Close your eyes and recall your deepest wish. 
2) Open your eyes, read the above lines of our poem in progress then submit one or two more lines of your own. 
3) We pick the lines we like most, add them to the poem and then write more. 
4) When the letter is done, we seal it, put all your names in the envelope, and send it to Santa with the next sled dog team that’s willing to chance harsh border lockdowns and Covid security measures.

By the way, as of this posting there are only 68 shopping days left until Christmas, so let’s crack that whip over those reindeer tushies!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA, TONY SINGLE & SONOFDEWANGAN
© All rights reserved 2020

This Just In…

Dear Readers,

Just a quick update before Tati kills Tony for his phenomenal forgetfulness!

The answer for our last RIDDLE ME THIS post was ‘shadows’, and we congratulate… erm, no one? No one got this! We’re as shocked as you are!

However, we are also very happy because it seems that you all enjoyed this feature as much as we did! That’s why… guess what? Yup! We promise to do it again soon!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020

Open-Source Poetry Five #1

Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas everyone!

Oh… Too soon?

Well, usually we’re two bums looking at the tail lights of Santa’s sleigh while we desperately turn out our pockets to find a pen and a sheet of paper for the letter we forgot to write him.

That’s why this year we have decided to be prepared. Like they say: “If you want to be happy, be so.” (Who actually said this by the way?)

So…

Dear Mr Santypoos!

We have been a very good girl and boy during this unfestive pandemic and would subsequently like a nice gift* from you (but not a lump of coal like you gave us last Christmas, please).

Tati & Tony

*(Please make it a tiny, uninhabited island and a rad new PS5!)’

Hmmm… no. This sounds rather egoistical. And we’re pretty sure that you, Dear Reader, have also been a very good girl (or boy) this year and thus deserve a nice gift. Tell you what… how about we write a letter to Santa together? And we promise we’ll send it to the addressee when it’s done!

Oh, and what if we write the letter in the form of a lovely, rousing poem? That ought to soften Santa’s glacial heart, don’t you think? Here, we’ll begin…

Вензель

Dear Mr Santypoos, how do you do?
Hope you don’t have COVID and the deer are healthy too.

Вензель_нижний

So, if you want Santa to put something especially cool in your stocking this year then it’s easy! Just follow these simple, festive steps:

1) Close your eyes and recall your deepest wish.
2) Open your eyes, read the above lines of our poem in progress then submit one or two more lines of your own (even if you have a list of 1,918,223 items or somesuch try to pack this into only two lines).
3) We pick the lines we like most (especially if you’ve left us some milk and cookies with them) and we write some more lines to follow those.
4) When the letter is done, we seal it, put all your names in the envelope, and send it to Santa with the next express snowy owl.

By the way, as of this posting there are only 82 shopping days left until Christmas, so we need to hurry the eff up! Get crackin’, hoes! Ho ho ho!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020

saoirse

at the beginning of time there was a girl
in a melamine bowl
she had no family, no friends
and was on the dole
she was sat there in a corn flake swirl
a milky, sugared doll
her belongings were mere odds and ends
oh, what a poor little soul!

her name was saoirse
though people hardly remembered
yearning between dearth and plenty
buried under stone in the garden of rasure

at noonday’s predoom was a woman cold
in a gumball machine
for the merriment of boozers
in a stinky shebeen
she would shiver nude and candy bold
a pert and tart cuisine
a laughing stock even for losers
oh, buy her a tall glass of poteen!

her name was saoirse
though people hardly remembered
yearning between dearth and plenty
buried under stone in the garden of rasure

at the end of all things there was a crone
in a bottle discarded
fighting her battles all over again
in weakness, unguarded
she inhaled a black wind through her bones
and all she’d once regarded
her last sigh was for the land of cockaigne
where life is ample tabled and lardered

her name was saoirse
though people hardly remembered
yearning between dearth and plenty
buried under stone in the garden of rasure

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020

GUEST POST // the role of woman by Victoria Campbell

selfless devotion
constantly giving
time
energy
validation
nothing in return
taken for granted
the expectation stands
any deviation,
expression of negativity,
impression of criticism
called out
normal human emotions
wants and desires
hidden from view
under a calm façade
longing for a hint of appreciation
but nothing
critiques and indifference
a woman
more complex than portrayed
a fragmented personality
serving the needs of others
a sacrifice to man
a mother
her most important role
or so they say
thousands of years of history
traditions passed down
arbitrary rules enforced
but I am much more
kindness and fragility
feeble and soft spoken
arbitrary rules enforced
but I am much more
kindness and fragility
feeble and soft spoken
the woman plays a subservient role
in the play of life
how limiting this must be
to herself but also humanity
imagine where the story could go
if our parts weren’t so one-dimensional

by TORI CAMPBELL
© All rights reserved 2020