Apology to My Mother at Christmas
What can I say?
I have always been this way.
You told me to hang the tinsel
strand by strand.
When you turned aside,
my hand
found bundles of silver—
like silver hair waiting to be grasped,
to be touched along its flattened lengths,
and flung. Silver flung!
—L.L. Barkat, author of The Novelist
Browse poets and poems
Browse more Christmas poems
Browse New Year’s poems
Photo by Kevin Dooley, Creative Commons license via Flickr.
L.L. Barkat is the Managing Editor of Tweetspeak Poetry and the author of six books for grown-ups and four for children, including the popular 'Rumors of Water: Thoughts on Creativity & Writing.' Her poetry has appeared on the BBC and at NPR, VQR, and The Best American Poetry.
Latest posts by L.L. Barkat (see all)
- Poetry Prompt: In the Wild Secret Place - January 6, 2025
- Journeys: What We Hold in Common - November 4, 2024
- Poetry Prompt: My Poem is an Oasis - August 26, 2024
Richard Maxson says
I found this so poignant. I remember that flat heavy tinsel. Merry Christmas, Laura.
L.L. Barkat says
Thank you, Richard 🙂
Do they not make it anymore? Maybe not. Fun that you remember.
Did you place it on strand by strand? Or did you fling bundles? 🙂
Richard Maxson says
The Baby in the Barn
Like these words, you were stolen.
Symbols beget symbols,
but these days you are lost in them,
like a blue flag against a clear sky,
or desperate breaths in a giant wind.
Today you would be left in a car,
while your mother picked up her check
from the wise men. Things have changed:
Someone would discover you
on the scanty farm, the three of you
huddled among the hungry animals.
The headlines would read: Baby Found With Pigs!
You would be rescued by good intentions,
but function follows fate, the fall comes calling.
The headlines would read: The Baby in the Barn Left in a Car!
Abandonment needs its mandalas.
There were great plans for you that night,
best you should have kept it quiet, kept the lights low,
you were warm, in the company of kindness
and simplicity and love without reason.
Now, with gold, perfume, and spices, they come for you,
but distance swallows them. The epiphany is lost,
in the lights of each new year, on a TV in Louisiana.
Maureen Doallas says
Enjoyed this, Richard. May you have a wonderful holiday.
L.L. Barkat says
just such a fun poem. And thoughtful too. 🙂
Maureen Doallas says
Love.
Merry Christmas, Laura.
Marcy Terwilliger says
I enjoyed your poem Richard by adding the kind of life we have today was a most interesting twist. So forgive the one I wrote a bit ago but needed a prompt to share it so.
The virgin is Mary
God sent an Angel
To have tea with her.
The Angel was a bit colorful
to say the least.
He did tell Mary God liked her.
She would have a baby
The Angel said Jesus will be his name.
How do you spell that she asked?
Never mind he said, let’s sip our tea.
Month by month her belly grew and grew,
She looked at Joseph, what are we going to do?
A donkey he did bring but getting Mary up on it was another thing.
To Bethlehem we go.
By the light of a big full moon
they found their way.
When it came time to deliver they had
no place to stay.
A barn, a stinking barn full of animals, smells of waste, not one clean place.
A baby boy was born that night, a sky so
clear and stars so bright.
Shepherds watching their sheep in the field
say a clumsy Angel soon appear.
More Angels leaped from the sky,
dressed in colored gowns, even some were
tie-dyed.
All of a sudden they were clapping their hands and moving with the beat,
Seems the heavenly host came to meet.
The Christ child born to save every man.
Soon Shepherds got wind of it all and into the stable they went, that’s all.
Then came three Wiseman from afar,
we saw the star in the east and her we are.
They fell to their knees, gave gifts of stuff, saw the King of Jews and that was enough.
With Mary back on the donkey again, this time holding her baby Jesus they all departed. To think all of this started with an Angel and a cup of tea, this is what surprises me.
Richard Maxson says
Marcy, I enjoyed this very much. Of course, in the last of the BC years, this event would be seen and described according to the times. I love your more contemporary interpretation. Who knows what an angel is, or what one looks like? I believe they are all around us today and understandably incognito. Your piece has likewise inspired me.
L.L. Barkat says
i like the tea! 🙂
Jody Lee Collins says
LL–I remember the heavy tinsel and we hung it in pieces, the five of us, and clumped when parents looked the other way. A poignant memory.
Richard, your take on a current view of the birth of our Saviour made me pause.
Catching up late in this Christmas season.
I so enjoyed reading both these poems.
(And Marcy’s poem about an angel having a cup of tea with Mary. Smile.)
Marcy Terwilliger says
L.L.
Growing up on a farm we always had a sad looking cedar tree and the three Campbell kids each had handfuls of thick tinsel. Since I’m the baby of the family I hung them one by one but I don’t remember what the other two did. Then I got so caught up in Richards poem and the fact I could finally find a place to share something I wrote. Thanks to you all for the nice comments, it has made my Christmas. I’ve written over 350 poems this year, it’s just hard finding a place to share them. Happy New Year to you all. You make me smile while I sip my new tea.
lynndiane says
Ah, still celebrating Christmas with poetry, tinsel and tea! May I join the party late? I’d like to offer this…
candle’s light
every
human soul
holds a light
lit by the
master chandler
who forms us
of soft wax
and then
illuminates
our spirits
with his own
brilliant
LIGHT.
each
flame flickers
brightly, bravely
through the
long, dark
night as we
push away
fears’ shadows;
wick up hope,
burn with
holy joy,
melt to
LOVE.