(the birth of Christ - in Gen-Z slang)

Mary and Joseph were tight-ship.
Mary was a real-one, and no clout-chaser

One night Angel Gabriel overstreeted with word
that Cap-G made Mary chabby with soup-baby
Mary was shook and big-mad but Joseph
was baby-goggles for Cap-G’s quinlan fetus

so Mary was “okrrrrrrrrr”

A minute later Mary and Joe had to roll deep,
adulting to Bethlehem with tribute to Augustus,
the main character, but no mo-mo swerved em’
ghetto and asan Mary was Cap-G’s baby-mama!

Later these bchaps rfts biters brang Cap-J
some bag and herb to extra flex for Cap-G
while angels lay in the cut with lowkey bop.

———————- translation


Mary and Joseph were married and in love.
Mary was an average girl not into notoriety
.
One night Angel Gabriel appeared and said
that God made Mary pregnant with his child
Mary was shaken-up and and angry but Joseph
Was excited for them to have God’s beautiful child

so Mary was had no choice but to say “OK”

Months later Mary and Joe had to travel far together,
As citizens, to Bethlehem to pay taxes to Augustus (Caesar).
Emperor of rome, but a lack of motels caused them to
Stay in a manger and there Mary had God’s child.

Later these rich star followers brought Jesus
some money and herb as gifts to impress God
while angels gathered and sang to comfort the child.

The frosty white lane
Down the 'Wolve's Bane'
Tagged along with the joy of jingle bells

My foremost heart
Frown at the part
where I stood with the most visual grin

I remember about the
Rudolph and the red nose reindeer
The countryside along with its pioneer
With the sudden rush of happiness.

Little red socks, the big gree tree
Lights and locks
I feel so free
When Christmas is along the corner
Stand with the most beautiful
Visual of the year

But to those little tears
Of that little two sisters
Who barely had any good Christmas
Still standing with glittery eyes
hoping the foremost.

May past all the sad and sorrow
May past all those who cried tomorrow
Now is the time to jingle along with the light
The spirit of heaven and hell between the fight.

Soaring little swallow, what do you see?
Enroute to Bethlehem from Nazareth,
love’s silhouette, encasing holy breath—
a pair of weary travelers, but three.
Awestruck little swallow, what see you now?
Angelic chorus singing Peace is here!
as shepherds shake in sacred, wondrous fear,
then rush to find a babe and to Him bow.
Resting little swallow, can you see more?
Great star shines brightly ‘gainst the darkened sky
while newborn Light breaks through an infant‘s cry—
God‘s brilliance swaddled, cradled, helpless, poor.
This babe you see in livestock manger lain
created you and does your life sustain.

Christmas comes but once a year
A time of joy, a time of cheer,
Families united, presents galore,
The feasting and chatting never a bore;
The laden tree glistening, lights burning bright,
What better to gather with an Eggnog each night,
Celebrate family and friends we hold dear,
While thinking of loved ones sadly not here;
But together or not they live in our heart,
A special safe place from which they shan't part.
So let's lift our glasses and offer this toast,
Health, Peace and Cheers to All we love most.

When two Santas
Enter a room
Things can get
Ruthless

On these eve; child born of ******' womb,
A light of birth, to death and risen from tomb.

Shepherds behold, of the angels of their night,
Wise men behold, of a guiding star' light.

Behold child of glory, resting in babe' bed,
In straws he shall lay, of king' crown on head.

Behold the son of man where he lay,
The Lord Jesus was born today.

She’s a flower of burned dirt
with pale and bony legs
- her emaciated thighs
etched with scars.

She’s been cutting to the music
of an inner, minatory choir
- a song of spite-filled sorrow
and perpetual farewell.

Christmas in the shadows
the hopeless hollow-days
in the kind of barren places
where our savior made his way.

The angels mark your passing
and they understand your pain
- when the roll is called in heaven
seraphim will speak her name.

I reflect upon the season and memory of Christmas' past,
and I cant help but to wonder if this may be my last.

A thought not born of this season and its promises of joy,
but rather from the pained reflection I am no more a boy.

I think upon friends and family at distance from my day,
who I love so very dearly though they be so far away.

I find this season lonely, with a sadness now become its gift,
yearly every passing nearer to loathing has been my shift.

At an age now to be more a cynic than an optimistic man,
seeing only greed and commerce and not some godly plan.

A Christmas of my childhood, of love, good will and of care,
forever wish I for you all,
never knowing sadness and loneliness' despair.