When Santa Claus Was Real - A poem by Codey

I once mentioned Codey and his poem on my post. Guess that Christmas is the right time for introducing this poem which I love a lot. I'm not a good reviewer of all kind and for the fact that it's poem, I have not a single technical skill of all, I let you all do the "judging". I just have only one line for the writing "it's sad and beautiful as well". Hope you all love it the way I do. Merry Christmas!!!

(Click on the title or here for the original post with audio version narrated by Blue Ben W.)

When Santa Claus Was Real
a poem by codey

There was a time, not so long ago,
when my days were filled with play.
Firetrucks, frisbees and basketball,
and a lawn sprinkler on a hot day.
Wrestling matches and brier patches
left me scraped, scratched and bruised.
I wore proudly, as badges of honor,
each new band-aid my mother used.
Tho the pain was real from these injuries,
I seldom needed a drug.
The pain was eased by my mothers love,
along with a kiss and a hug.

At five, I headed off to school
with scrubbed face and gap toothed smile.
Wearing my innocence on my sleeve,
sporting clothes of the latest style.
With the barely controlled eagerness
of youthful impatience to learn and age,
I was sure I'd soon know everything
but was assigned my own little cage.
Judged and categorized by others,
I was grouped where they thought I belonged.
I innocently accepted these labels,
not realizing how I'd been wronged.

Now, older and much wiser,
I see with the eyes of a youth.
I'm now more able to discern
what's said but what's the truth.
The cruelty of a child is open,
the cruelty of the old less revealed.
The young not having learned to speak
in a way with true meanings concealed.
Why can't those of us labeled different
just be a different kind of same?
Why, for being how we were made,
should we hang our heads in shame?

Now living the life I've been given,
despair feeding distrust and ire,
and the eating away of my soul
by unquenchable internal fire,
leaves me wondering if those called normal
aren't just following a piper's refrain
and those of us, unquestionably mad,
aren't the only ones truly sane.
The days are long gone when a kiss and a hug
were all it took to heal.
I'd give all I have to go back in time
to when Santa Claus was still real.

Season One Suessian Poem - Vamphile @ insanejournal

Ok, we all assume that I'm not into poem (mostly). The fact is... I read poem (of course) and I sometimes write poem myself. I studied Literature, rite? So, it's not weird any little getting to know about that. The only problem is I do not regularly like "sentimental poem" and there are tons of that kind of poem. Then I quit. That's all.

Today I fortunately catch this one from the QaF fandom. I love it. And I introduce you all here.

You may reach the original version from the author - wonderful-vamphile-at-insanejournal - here (or simply click the title of this post). She has tons of other wonderful things you may love (or hate) too.

BTW, I have no idea what "Suessian" means.



Season One Suessian Poem

Michael:

You can fuck him in your loft
and let your friends just mock and scoff

You can fuck him at the zoo.
Or in the car… you know you do.

Fuck the kid where you might like
On the stationary bike

The back room at Babylon
You know I could go on and on

Make it special. Make it right
Or just call it an early night

He’ll blow you in a bathroom stall
You needn't fuck him e’er at all

But if you’re gonna do the deed
There’s only one thing that I need

Rim him on the fucking moon
But just don’t fuck him in my room.

Brian's Reply:

I fuck a lot of guys, I know.
Backrooms are fun, put on a show.

I’ll fuck the kid, he’s kind of sweet.
Forsake the rule of no repeats

He’ll blow me while I drive my car
Cause freaks like that is who we are

He’s hot as hell and smart as fuck
Michael your bullshit's run amok

You’ve got your life and I’ve got mine
I cast no blame, my sex life’s fine

I know you wanted something more
Not gonna happen… there’s the door.

So yes I’ll fuck him where I want
Sometimes you are such a cunt

And if he’s living with your mom
Your room is where we'll get it on

I love you and you’re my best friend
This stupid crush has got to end

For Justin I am breaking rules
Don’t bitch at me you fucking fool

If you want to stick around
Then know my bed’s where he’ll be found

And my shower and my couch
The kid can make me seem the slouch

It’s part of life we grow and change
You needn’t make it seem so strange

You’ve got Ben you’ve got your life
Be happy as professor’s wife

Justin and I are solid, damn
Just grow up and be a man

Believe it like the stars above
Accept that he’s the one I love.

Justin’s response

Bottom line is Michael's lame
I’ll let him play this childish game

I’m not threatened, anymore
He thinks he knows Brian’s core

Well I know Brian better still
What he won’t do, what he will

I know the spots that make him moan
I know his moods I know his tone

I know what makes him come too fast
and I know how to make it last

You say i'm just some dumb-ass twink
As if I care what you might think

I know what we have is more
It’s all that you were hoping for

I don’t think I can be more clear
I’m his twink and I’m still here.