I was born to the family Hackaday –
Hosts of the Rockaby Inn –
My only two birthrights, by and by,
Still bring no satisfaction.
We’re a wee little bunker up North
Where the ice blows hard and fast –
I say we, but it’s just weary ole me,
And I pray this solitude last.
But oh! Not so. On Christmas Day
My family flies overhill
To leech on these few stores and rooms,
Then leave long after their fill.
The inconsiderate have a knack for
Abusing hospitality –
Making great messes, noise and great stresses,
Since my pain for their care is free.
So! I conceal my cash in the cellar,
Stuff my sup in the loft,
Hide all my valuable breakable things
Lest I find them next year in their crofts.
I loan my hens to the neighbors,
Nail cupboards and shelves to the floor –
I survey this stone den around me,
Relieved my less won’t be their more.
Ho! Charred logs on the fire.
Ho! Piled flannel and wool.
I’m cozy and comfy, all on my lonesome,
Sipping hot cider, slack on my stool.
I was preparing some meat and potatoes
With nary a wreath on the door –
When snow flew in through my shutters
And rattles my soul to its core.
A freak blizzard! from no rhyme or warning
Buries this Christmas Eve night.
With a howl and a growl and a ghostly scowl,
Hills vanish ‘neath wintery smite.
The night seems alive –
Snow poised to contrive –
Then…
RAP-A-TAT
RAP-A-TAT
RAP
A knock on my door?
Unexpected in this storm.
The wind blows open, and in they come:
Newlyweds, linked arm in arm.
And yet, they’re a couple of tots
With angelic, porcelain faces –
Smiles sparkling like silvery tinsel,
Upon their hair ice leaves faint traces.
The boy bedecked in pearly tux –
The girl, her bridal gown –
They stride up to my lowly stool
And melt my displeased frown.
“Trekking long through icy drifts,
Our smallish stomachs starved,
We sought a place to warm our souls
And found your place in mountain carved.
We’d like to rent a room, dear sir,
To serve our Honeymoon.
We also expect a few holiday games
Since Christmas comes quite soon.”
I tried to break it to them soft,
“For a room, the price is fair.
But, for entertainment, I haven’t the least
Reason to give you that care.”
And then, by Mary, what tears did well
And warm their frozen cheeks;
My head was warmed, in consequence,
As their wails reached piercing peaks.
I pulled out Holly branches
And a game of Tiddlywinks,
Some cards, some whist, some jingly-bells
And some dolls that were starting to stink.
‘Twas the cookies and icing they stuck to,
Cutting dough of various shapes;
Those odd Newlyweds distracted for now,
I started to sneak my escape.
RAP-A-TAT
RAP
What? Again? A new guest barges in –
Or two? I cannot tell which;
Where one human starts the other fast ends –
Feet tangle legs, hair head-pair hitch.
“Sleep, Christmas room save –
Heard Eve kids party…Give!
Hunger, lonely bored beast bed
Ham pie whiskey companions live.”
The amalgamation tumbles in,
Slammed its limbs on the table,
And I, frightened by all this commotion,
Fled outside to my stable.
I whisk in the whiskey by quarts,
Smash all the mashers at hand,
Burn the bangers ever so slightly,
Bake pudding richer than any could stand.
I gave them my meat and potatoes –
That plate was cleared in a sigh –
I pulled out a goose, just one single goose,
And roasted a bit of its thigh.
After grilling a couple of carrots –
The last scrap I planned to supply –
I returned to my stool to ignore them
And pray the night quickly speed by.
But they roared and they pounded the table,
‘Till the children thought it a game;
My wee little cabin was filled with their howling
And I felt I might get a migraine.
RAP.
I barely turn to face the door
When someone beneath me stands,
Their face covered by silver monobrow –
Wringing wrinkles instead of hands.
I cannot tell their gender,
I cannot guess their age,
For they seem composed of one and all
Trapped within a bony cage.
“My lass, I am the Patrimarch,
The head of holidays!
I noticed your place was less festive,
And obliged to come brighten your ways.
You’ve been so dreadfully dreary,
Marked by your lack of decor.
So…here! Let’s light this place up
With Christmas spirit from roof to floor!”
I opened my mouth to protest,
But the gnome wriggled its monobrow –
Out sprung miniature reindeer
Hitched to Santa on jingle-ling plow.
Carrying wreaths and giant garland,
They wrapped my house thrice ‘round-
Then out of the chimney they yanked a fir tree
Cloaked in baubles and cosmic down.
The Patrimarch gave a garbled “Halloo!”
And its branches violently rustled
As a cast of Christmas miscreants
Across my birthrights bustled.
An Abbot of Unreason cheered
This troupe of rabid dwarves
While they scattered my cash and breakable things
And ate all the stuffs in my stores.
A Lord of Misrule led his sprites
In a hearty, ravenous jig –
Scratching the wood all over my loft
And snapping my chairs like twigs.
Fire set their shadows ablaze –
I feel I am going mad!
Patrimarch swirled with the Newlyweds;
The amalgamate sang awful bad.
Buckled down at their party’s center,
Weighed heavy by laughter and glee
That I could not feel or allow
Given my grave responsibility.
Enough! I screamed and erupted!
I flung them all out with my might!
Their tricks and their fun all at my expense
Should not be permitted tonight!
The gust that commenced this nightmare
Flung my shutters and doors open wide
And funneled a vacuum that sucked all my guests
Out the rooms, up the floo, to the sky.
Empty – as before tonight’s chaos –
But now I’ve nothing left
Save divots and claw marks proving it real:
Some demons committed the theft.
Then I awoke, unaware I collapsed –
From the ground I rose to a slump,
Rattled and shook and shocked to the core
By my quarters, reduced to a dump.
The sun shone straight into my eyes –
Christmas burned into my skull –
At least it’s over, no more surprises,
And I can pass into healthier lull.
RAP-A-TAT
RAP-A-TAT
RAP
That final knock opened my house
To my annual guests outside –
Worse than the Newlyweds, sprites, and the gnomes –
Christmas Day; my family’s arrived.
Their bright tacky grins of delight
Flip when they spy my pale form.
I rise, I glide, I fall at their feet
And finally plea for reform:
“I can no longer carry our Christmas;
It’s broke every last straw on my back –
I’m tired and angry and just plain annoyed
And I wish you’d all carry some slack.
I feel like I’ve silently let you
Be happy so long as I’m not –
It’s time I spoke up, and made you all see
That your joy is all mindless rot.
Look ‘round! No food to feast on,
Decorations – all frozen stiff –
The basis for every last holiday spell
Has sunk like my own sorry skiff.
Why have you been so blind to help me?
Do you not care what I have gone through?
Why on Earth would I bother to do this
Of all those blackening feelings are true?”
I was at the ground in a kneel
When a cousin knelt by my side;
She stroked back my hair and held me in hug –
Saying, without fake care or pride:
“We’re sorry our fun is your sorrow,
We’re sorry the burden is tough –
But now that we know what’s been ailing you,
We can contribute what you think’s enough.
Family is built on connections
Told plainly, loud and clear;
Your anxiety needs not drown you out –
If one of us listens, they also hear.
Up, now! There’s no use complaining
When Christmas Day finds your house bare.
Family reduces the struggles of life –
They dissipate as they are shared.
But the point is not to feel hopeless
With others alike in poor lot;
It’s to smile, to lift your clan fellows higher,
Or we’ll not learn the lessons we’re taught.”
Helped to my feet by the uncles,
Driven to town by the aunts,
Shopping spread amongst my countless siblings,
Costs split by grandparents.
In no time at all, my bunker up North
Was far brighter than I could achieve
From the efforts of all my family folk –
Even past Christmases I can’t retrieve.
At the head of the table I carved
The meat and passed it round;
The largest chunk reserved for myself
And toasts raised towards my crown.
Perhaps I exaggerated their part
When I called them bad names in my pain;
By the Christmas tree lit by the fire tonight,
I can swear it’s all left my brain.
After feasting, we unwrapped gifts,
Like a picture painted by all,
With laughter ringing far and near
And I – the jolliest drawl.
As we leave to go out caroling,
My heart full with Hackaday,
I grab my hat and wonder
On the spooks seen yesterday.
Were they spirits sent by Heaven
To bring our misgivings to light?
Or were they a trick of the wind,
And only family can combat their spite?
They were expelled nonetheless, for peace is found
When we fervently, openly seek it –
Easier so through family
And a hopeful Christmas spirit!
Morning's Early Dark 