Sometimes I will post poems on this page.  Some old, some new, some previously published.  They won’t be here permanently.

MY Christmas Poem – 2016

By Christopher J. Jarmick


Every year the challenge for me

is to write a Christmas poem,

yet every year it’s not to be;

call it  Xmas block syndrome.


You know the kind of thing I mean,

where I start a joyous happy holiday poem,

remembering the past, the hearth, and  home,

but find words instead featuring family dysfunction,

thoughts about jealousy , past grudges

and competitive derriere lip suction


Or rhymes be-moaning the Christmas gift hoarding ‘black Friday’ rush-

just slide you credit card

and watch riches flow and gush

until the payments  become due

and you wish you told your giving spirit . . .



Stan Freeberg did his ‘Green Christmas’ thing

And that ‘Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer

even I can sing,

but that’s not the type of Christmas poem

I mean to write

when I try to write

MY Christmas poem


And it won’t be a parody like

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

and though this election be done

the fall-out and tweets from Trump

are inspiring a Canadian run


MY Christmas Poem needs to say something nice;

remind us of the birth of Christ

and touch people’s heartstrings

at least once or twice


My Christmas poem

should be so perfect

it will kick the one by

that fellow Moore

right out the yuletide door.


Yes MY Christmas poem will be beloved

And when it is recited

people will rise and stand

and say it loud and clear

all across our great land.


Oy !!!


There is just one


yes one little thing

I fear

about this Christmas poem

and that is

that I still won’t have written

MY Christmas Poem

by this time  next year.



Perhaps this serves as a Thanksgiving poem:

A Good Poem

By Christopher J. Jarmick


When the weight presses down

on my tiring bones

I smile,

open my arms

look into the sky

and shout:

“Let the good in.”


Goodness is all round me.

all around you.

Nearly everyone I know

wants to be kind,

wants to do the right thing,

wants the world to be

full of love and fair;

but we stumble

we forget

we get angry

we get hurt

or worse.


Dark thoughts

absorb the light

become pervasive

like rain

on a tin roof.

Sadness spills out

in grays.

I seek distraction

no matter what the cost

forgetting it never lasts,

it won’t work.

The stars dim,

the pilot light



The doors slam shut

I hear ghosts

mourning, moaning


I hear the voices

from the past-

“Give up!”

“You’ll never amount to anything.”

“You aren’t any different

from anyone else!”


. . .a stabbing reflection of

bright sunlight:


“You aren’t any different

from anyone else.”


We are mostly the same

it is true,

but each one of us is

also unique.

I won’t be the crab

pulled back down

into the pot.


I remember to


open my arms,

look into the sky

and shout:

“Let the good in.”


Goodness is all round me

all around you. . . . . .

waiting for an invitation.

Nearly everyone I know

wants to be kind,

wants to do the right thing

wants the world to be

full of love and fair.


Let the good in.

Let the good in.

Let the good in.



Some poems featured on this page are formally copyrighted with others enjoying informal implied and recognized copyright protection.  Ask permission before ‘borrowing’.  Thanks.



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