Hello all,
By a unanimous verdict, the winner of the 2006 ILP Christmas Poetry competition is…
[size=134]Colinsign[/size]
with his poem Scattered Snow, which I’m sure he’ll post here for y’all to read.
We’ll be back in the New Year with a fresh writing competition, so look out for that, and thanks to all who entered. Feel free to post your entries in this thread for the others to see.
Merry Christmas.
Well done, CS (him, not me 
)
I can now reveal the my entry, which I tried to “big up” after I submitted it, was in fact an attempt at writing below-average poetry!
Scattered Snow:
Selection Box/Christmas Treats!
Gold, frankincense and myrrh
Were the first Christmastide gifts
Now families gather only to split plastic
Eat mince pies and get pissed.
Has Santa gone out the window
Or is he stuck up the chimney spout.
Is he drinking port with vodka in a run down bistro?
I’m a business mans wet dream! He shouts…
I’m a cynical old man now. I no longer need this route.
I need peace. I need rest.
I need a New Year to hang up my boots
Snow Flakes under magnification
Look like complex mechanical structures.
Thank you great voiceless One
For such immense Christmas décor,
We always knew you where
An Interior Designer of the first order!
Santa is drunk in the dole queue.
He is forlorn. A glum frown droops over his face.
He is hopeless, unemployed, low spirited.
He is very drunk indeed. He lolls and staggers.
He mumbles incoherently then passes out in a state of catatonia,
From which no one can revive or resuscitate him.
Overweight and out of date, Elvis warned you it would come to this!
Santa is in the drinks cabinet,
Using Billy Boys new truck as a drinks cup
Billy climbs down the stairs and exclaims:
You fucking drunken materialist whore!
You’re not my Father any more!
Santa Claus has a great white beard, it is:
A snow capped mountain top.
A snow caked landscape.
A snow covered gully near the mouth of the fjord.
A candy floss of snow carpeting the land!
Santa’s great white beard – adored, revered!
Perennially pruned, combed and sheered!
Let us never forget that large mysterious
Most ancient of beards!
Baby Jesus: Born in a barn: Born in the glorious animal farm.
The Hilton was fully booked. The Three Stars shadowed by the Moon.
Your mother and father and mule searched till late in the night.
They found only a barn – a low budget dive –
But it’s where you were born
And it’s where you survive…
The wise men went driving around town on their camels
Divining to pick you the most prefect precious present:
An Armani Halo, a Gucci Throne, a Diesel Dynasty,
A Top-Shop Family, an Eriksson Digi-Cam… No!
They bought incense and perfume and gold
To fashion a sent in your likeness!
To help you level the cold!
Midnight, and the clock strikes, it is Christmas Day.
Everyone is debauched and lecherous and gay!
Holding hands, kissing on the cheek!
We may be insincere but at least we mean it.
As truth spills from the glass them selves
The truth in conversation,
The great waffle of the spirit,
The great red wine, caught in the moment, with cheer,
With care, the rare hair down Christmas care.
As the clock strikes we all came together.
The big bird halved and quartered
Sent to the four corners of the table:
We tear the great fat turkey apart.
We eat our turkey on gravy soaked plates.
With roast potatoes almonds and dates.
We suck on chipolata sausages rapped in bacon.
We stuff the stuffing down our greedy gullets.
We pull our crackers, tell our jokes
Wear paper crowns and drink red wine.
We roast our oaths and toast our oats
To a future as vague as fog
As we search for our coats…
Merry Christmas!
This seasons only song!
Merry Christmas!
Roll merrily along!
Congratulations Colinsign. The honour is deserved. =D> =D>
CONGRATS COLINSIGN!
Hey all, I sent this poem in for the competition, but sent it in on the 22nd(because that’s when I got an account on this forum). I don’t know if it was considered because it was after the cutoff, so I’ll just post it here in case anyone wished to read it 
Merry Christmas!
(I wrote this one last year)
How Could I Deny?
(The Tree Trimming Waltz)
Her cascading curls and cherub cheeks darted in front of Maury Povich’s face.
The giggling child in her eye betrayed her intentions before she ever uttered,
“Let’s put up the tree!â€
How could I deny?
Drummer boy ballads and leaping lords tinged the air.
The four and a half foot tree stood atop an end table
stark and bare.
Trunks and tubs of treasured trinkets appeared.
Glowing angels whispered blessings as they fluttered to look
at the blankets of snow outside the window,
leaving just enough room for Rudolph’s red nose.
A ruckus broke out between hissing Hallmark Mischievous Kittens
and a whinnying unicorn made by nimble little 3rd grade fingers.
Avoiding the fray, I quietly sipped spicy nog
while setting fire to Santa’s beer belly atop the TV cabinet.
His flickering grin chided me for ever implying he was a lush.
A whirlwind of grabbing, placing, primping, adjusting, rearranging and changing
led to hundreds of gleeful eyes peeking through evergreen branches
and rainbow bulb fences.
Ancient clay memories and porcelain dolls
swayed over long lost loved ones and candy colored balls.
Silver clouds of tinsel showered down in shiny flumes.
Hailstorms of beaded garland gently pelted
and nuzzled up next to peppermint hooks just hanging around.
Now the boxes are gone and the lights are turned low.
Nat King Cole’s singing of sleigh bells and snow.
Santa’s belly is still flickering and the treasure laden tree
is a neon menagerie of packrat pride.
We lay on the couch, her curls tickling my neck.
The cups of cider on the coffee table have long since cooled.
The cat is a tightly bound lump of slumbering fur
next to secretive presents topped with floppy bows.
My lids are sliding like dime store shutters.
My leg, numb timber silently being sawed.
I started to rise, but she wasn’t done with her pillow quite yet.
“Just one more song…â€, her pouting lips pleaded.
How could I deny?
A labor of love for my wife on this Holiday Season
Semantic
12/22/05