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Pyschodelic Santa...

Filled with Magic Cookies
He trips down the boulevard
Pulled over by the Sheriff
He's blowin' rather hard

Touch your nose, big guy
Keep those reindeer still
Walk this line, toe to toe
What you doin' on "The Hill"?

What's the stuff in your sack?
Where'd you get this loot?
I'm watchin' you big fella
Is that a pistol in your boot?

A pipe, you say; what's in it?
Bet it's wacky-weed
No one rides here at night
Except doin' dirty deeds

Givin' stuff away?
Who's gonna believe that's true?
I think that you're a criminal
That's what I think of you

Santa who? You ain't the truth
You're looking like a pimp
That velvet suit, a disguise
You're walkin' with a limp

Oh yeah, you fell down
Climbing on a roof
I'll call that a confession
That's all I need for proof

Huh? Whatever do you mean?
I had a Kenny-doll at ten?
No one knows that story
That was way back when

Sissy got the B.B gun
Almost shot me in the eye
The presents got mislabled
I never did find out why

You mean, you're really Santa?
I thought you were a myth
Something that Mom thought up
To keep me bein' good with

So, how come you ain't been
To my house, in many years?
Yeah, my kids are taken care of
Through my sweat and tears

I get it now, we don't need it
You just give to those in need
Put some presents on the table
For those who have no tree

Ok Santa, on your way
But, be careful how you fly
Magic Cookies may be fun to eat
But Rudolph needs a guide

No, you ain't got a ticket
I'll just say you got away
I'll let you go this time
Just come by on Christmas Day!

We'll have a prime-roast dinner
A drink of Nog or two
Bring the Mrs. and the elves
And thanks, for all you do

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
Not for the contest, I already did that. This was just a fun thing, in the middle of the night.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

I keep my friends and neighbors cookin' with cookies. My wife and I bake up two or three dozen and I wind up giving at least a dozen and a half away. For someone not used to them, it only takes one and they are good; so the four I usually give them lasts a while. At least a week or two. I will think about your sugestions and we will see. Thanks for stopping by. ~ Geez.
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author comment

Hi, Geezer!
Your wit is wild! What a great poem! I really like your play on words with your title. I like it all!
Merry Christmas to you, Geezer!
L
"And now," cried Max, "let the wild rumpus begin!"

I'm glad that you got a chuckle out of it. Sounds like Max is ready to ruuummmmppuss! Sounds like a WWE. wrestling match!. LoL
Get out the egg-nog and the bottle of rum! We're partying tonight! My landlord brings me Guyanese rum when he comes home from his visits to his country. Have a great Christmas, Lavender. ~ Geez.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment

Really like this one!

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Raywhitakerblog.wordpress.com
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you like it Ray. I had a good time with it. Worked on it last night while having a cup of egg-nog with rum and some magic cookies! It was a bit longer, but I shortened it some so that people wouldn't get bored. ~ Geez.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment
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