A gnostic ex-Catholic atheist Buddhist's Christmas carols
The following were actually written in the car one or two years ago; I just came across them again and decided it was the right time.
I’m dreaming of a green Christmas
I’m dreaming of a green Christmas
So I don’t have to shovel snow
’Cause when I start liftin’,
My spine starts shiftin’,
And soon, my back will start to go…
I’m dreaming of a green Christmas
No powd’ry white or icy sheen;
May your X-rays all come out clean,
And may all your Christmases be green.
Away on a Greyhound
Away on a Greyhound, no crib for a bed
The little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head
Across both his parents, whose seats were reclined,
And the armrest between them dug into his side.
Small dealers were flaunting their cell phones, so proud,
While far in the back, someone’s boom box boomed loud
A drunk muttered ‘Sorry’ in the midst of a cuss
When he saw the Lord Jesus asleep on the bus.
The driver turned down the interior lights
So little Lord Jesus could sleep through the night
An old man behind him unwrapped something fried
As our tiny salvation turned over and sighed.
“Oh Jesus,” I said, “you’re a picture of grace,
“Asleep with a smile on your cherubic face;
“Unworthy am I to scrape gum off your shoes,”
When your father turned to me and said, “It’s hey-seuss.”
Comments
O Little Town Of Bethlehem
O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
I’ve heard as yet no fighter jets
A-roaring through your sky.
As Baghdad’s battered skyline
Sleeps well in sweet relief,
No army bands in any lands
Play “Hail To The Chief.”
O little town White, Black and Brown,
O worldly NYC,
Stand tall and lead us all to heed
Our Lady Liberty.
Her torch is once more shining
Its gen’rous, patient light
Your tired, your poor will nevermore
Hear gunfire in the night.
O little town of Washington,
Your paranoia’s through.
Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan:
They pose no threat to you.
Al-Qaeda’s all retired, and
In quiet, prosp’rous ease,
They spend their days in freedom
Raising happy families.
When restful night gives way to light,
We’ll all have forgotten who
With hearts of ice could sacrifice
The many for the few.
In morning we’ll awaken,
And shouts of joy release;
For all the world this night has heard
The silent sound of peace.
Not a blueprint, just a crazy wish
Hairy Little Solstice
Have yourself a hairy little solstice
Let your freak flag fly
Tell the world conformity’s for days gone by
Have yourself a fairy little yuletide
Straight, bi, trans, or gay
Geeks and freaks, our troubles could be far away
There were days,
Wary olden days,
Scary olden days
We’d hide,
But, my friend,
Say that’s at an end
And you’ll do your thing
With pride
Is this the year all loves can stand together?
Will The Man allow?
Can we be ourselves, and can we be them now?
I hope you’ll have a hairy Solstice time
Somehow.