Dear Santa

By Poetri

Dear Santa,

Wow!  I can’t believe you’re still alive after all these years.

I mean you have been old since I was a kid.

Back then I never wrote you letters asking for stuff,

I never believed that you would read mine. 

After all, you got millions of letters,

And being as old as you were, well, I just figured

You couldn’t possibly read all of them, so I didn’t bother. 

Dear Santa.

For Christmas, I would like money to grow on trees,

Particularly the one in my backyard.

Right now it grows Avocados, but money would be a lot better.

Please hide Hope secretly in my closet

So that every time I reach for something to wear,

Expectation would cling to my shirt like static.

This year for Christmas, would you mind giving me patience?

Bottle it in the water I thirst for,

so when I drink I’m swallowing endurance. 

Please for my pain give me 365 poems,

Package them in my hands and only allow me to write one a day.

Poetry is medicine, but if I take too much I overdose.

So, also give me self-control, instead of under the tree,

Place it inside of me, right in the stomach area.

Dear Santa,

May I please have a fully loaded automatic gun?

No metaphor for this,

I just want to kill the monsters that walk beside me. 

Throw in a lifetime of bullets,

Cause my demons never die, they just multiply.

Please give me wisdom, and place it under my feet,

So that I don’t shoot myself in the foot.

Make the understanding so big so when I’m on it, I stand tall.

Put confidence in my knees to hold me up when I want to fall.

Dear Santa,

This year for Christmas, I want a Bible.

Not just a regular Bible, I want it written on the walls of my brain.

Every time I am in doubt about something,

Every time I’m frustrated about something,

Every time I want to question why I am here,

Scrape scripture off and let it float around my eyes.

Can I have a pair of glasses that only sees light?

Give me 24 hours of glow, and place it underneath the sky.

Can I have no darkness? And a rope to tie a knot

On every cloud so that rain never falls.

I want 73 degrees of sunshine every day.

Wrap perfection up in a red bow tie and give it to me.

All I want for Christmas is to be happy.

Place 12 pills of Joy in stockings above the fireplace,

And put dreams in chocolate chip cookies.

Roast me a successful career right by the chestnuts

And put smiles in Christmas carols, so that this year,

I can’t do nothing but laugh when we sing.

Am I asking too much, Santa?

Okay, I understand that you have millions of things

That you are getting for millions of people,

So I will narrow mine down to this…

Dear Santa.

For Christmas, I would like money to grow on trees,

Particularly the one in my backyard.

Purple and Gold

By Poetri

Disclaimer: 

Whenever you read a poem.  Do not give Disclaimers! 

But for the simple reason that there may be some haters

In the land of Laker Hood, I must Disclaim.

This poem is bound to make some of you NOT like me anymore.

If this is the case, I ask you to refer back to other poems

that you may have heard me read and that you have liked.

End of disclaimer.

I bleed Purple and Gold! 

Well, not really, I really bleed red, just like the rest of us,

but in the metaphorical sense, I BLEED PURPLE and GOLD!!!

I wrote this poem at the beginning of the season

Just to let you know…that I am guaranteeing.

That’s right…I said it.  I am guaranteeing

another championship ring this year!

And if I’m wrong?  HA!! 

Well, then I’m just wrong…no biggie.

People have been wrong before. 

Matter of fact, I have even been wrong more times

than I count so if I am wrong again,

I will just chalk this up on my wrong board and move on.

But, if I’m right!!!  Ahhh, yea, if I’m right! 

At night, the skies will light up and drop down

a chair that says “POETRI YOU ARE RIGHT!!! 

It will have Purple and Gold encrusted words that spell R-I-G-H-T! 

And Kobe Bryant will come to my house which 

would have been transformed into a LAKER MANSION by then

and personally thank me for being RIGHT!

And for teaching him all of those moves

(okay, not really the move thing).

But he will come over (really) and thank me

for picking them to win the championship,

cause I got the gift of picking champions!

I guess I got it from my slave ancestors

When they had to pick the best cotton. 

I don’t know.  That was stupid. 

And sometimes I say stupid things.

But this time is not one of those times.

No, this time I am saying something super smart.

Sure, I could have been all safe and picked the safe team.

I could have picked Miami and jumped on the bandwagon

…or maybe picked the nursing home team of  Boston

but nooooo, I chose LAKERS, baby…

even wrote this poem about it, baby

BEFORE THE SEASON started, baby!

From this point on no one can say they do not know where I stand!

I assure you.  I am a cool guy.

And just as sure as there is blue in the sky,

just as sure that someday we are all gonna die,

just as sure w-h-y spells why…

or just the letter y…

Every road will end with the Lakers.

The Road to Perdition will end with the Lakers.

The Road to the Super Bowl will end with the Lakers.

The revolution will be televised on Kcal nine.

I have a dream that one day The Lakers will win the championship and I will predict it before the start of the season.

Ask not what the Lakers can do for you,

ask what YOU can do for the Lakers!!!

Downloading

By Poetri

I’m under constant reconstruction,

A work in progress, not quite a final cut.

There’s a glitch in my software

And some days my smiley faces don’t smile.

And my avatar just doesn’t look right; you know what I’m saying?

I’m trying to get my script together.

Frankly, I thought I’d be done downloading

Files into my system before I added a family,

But those add-ons are exactly the thing I need to complete me.

I just got to get some more bandwidth.

I thought I would have this life thing all planned out by now.

But want to make HIM laugh, just tell HIM your plans.

And, how funny it seems to me

That I am always on a different site than HIM.

So, here I am uploading pictures into my memory,

Everyday making new history, adding friends trying to connect.

Some days I think I can start my own Internet.

Other days, I want to ball up and sit in the corner,

Cry till my eyes run out of water.

I’m a sinner by default.

I claim Jesus as my home page,

But find myself on other pages more often than not.

Yea, I know…if you can just be patient with me.

I’m a computer. And I’m just waiting on my upgrades.

Meanwhile, I do crazy, irrational things.

I set out to tackle problems on my own,

Forgetting GOD has my life backed up.

Situations arise that make me want to rush my e-commerce.

With no money in PayPal and the month is due,

I stretch my gigabytes to take on new data.

But I don’t pay attention to my Alert box that keeps popping up

Telling me to slow down before I ruin my hard disk.

Getting confused thinking that this new file

Is my ticket to a million hits…

I download the upload and get over loaded!

I panic.  I don’t know what to do.

When a thing I hoped for so much falls through.

I feel like I’m on a different network or something.

I’m lost. Google can’t find me.

The problem is I have a hard drive to get to where I’m going

And my pedal is on the medal trying to get from A to B

In less than 60 seconds.

That’s when D slips in and hacks me with spyware.

Jacks up the whole hard drive,

When all I’m trying to do is provide for my little add ons!

Dang it!  Who turned off my firewall?

Why aren’t I protected?

Now bugs have access to my system files,

And I have to start all over.

I’m under constant reconstruction.

A work in progress, not quite a Final cut.

There’s a glitch in my system…

So that’s why some days my smiley faces don’t smile

And my avatar just doesn’t look right,

Do you understand what I’m saying?

 ¹⁴ For God will bring every deed into judgment,
       including every hidden thing,
       whether it is good or evil.

Keep it natural.