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The Spirit Never Dies (poem)

from a Very Slothy Christmas by Seth Walker

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lyrics

There’s finally snow-falling on the ground out back
Intricately crafted, sparkly, multi-colored paper
Crumpled up around shredded boxes and bows
Children a rumpus behind the sofa
With the noisiest toys their uncle could afford
The kitchen a wreck
Too turkey-triprophaned out to do anything about it…
I turn on the t.v. to watch a Christmas story for the ten-billionth time
Only to find myself still laughing…
You know…. she broken leg lamp on purpose

In the background I hear someone playing radio-cliché Christmas tunes
As they join in, singing to the fuzzy chorus,
Noxious notes grow thicker in the air than the cinnamon scented candles…
And the lemony lingering of stuffing over the table…

I pause… realizing… I finally found santa clause

~-~
One vital stage in everyone’s “growing up” is
That, all-too-soon age, when that one sandcastle kicker
Who caught his parents present-stocking the tree,
starts going off on tirades in school-yards
About “oh yeah, well my parents told me that Santa isn’t real…”

Now knowing the strength of a child’s faith…
We all knew the only thing to follow such a deep stab
to our sacred pre-pubescent pantheon as that….
we had a total and complete
mental break-down on the play-ground…

Later that day, after being consoled and calmed down
from crippling-hysterical-fits of denial
they tell you…
it’s not that he’s not real…
he’s just not alive like you and me
he’s a spirit…
he’s only alive in you and me

~-~


Years pass with silly questions being called silly till they hide in our mouths, going unasked,
Growing assuming tradition is what we do to keep our grandparents happy.
To keep our parents off our backs in hopes of getting better gifts than last year…

so we dress in silly hats, to eat things, we’ve dieted for all year
smile to everyone at the dinner table,
including the relatives you secretly despise,
and pass the potatoes
play the piano
sing along, even though you sound like a drunk frog vomiting
belt it
for the spirits…
for the season…
like you believe in santa one more time
till you do
till your belly tingles
cheeks blush
beard thickens
you start chuckling in a way that would get you thrown out of a strip-club
your arms open
hugs last longer
road rage turns into less of a fit
you suddenly, for some reason just give a ….
You even cuss a little less…

This is the Christmas spirit…
The possession we mass-invoke every winter solstice
The joyousness of survival
Toasting to our collective conquering of the winter’s threats
Taking the most barren time of the year to
Lavish each other in gift-giving
Is there not a lesson here in the law of attraction?

This is the religion some parents forget to pass on…
That family, turkey, watching a Christmas story for the 1 billionth and one-th time
But your nephew’s first…
Is what it’s all about…
Togetherness, the heart-tingle…
The kids on the play-ground were wrong about the spirit…
He’s not dead…
Look at this face…
even the broken hearts are smiling…

credits

from a Very Slothy Christmas, released November 23, 2012
vocals & music by Seth Walker

Recorded at Love Shovel Ranch Studios
produced by Seth Walker

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Seth Walker Poetry Boulder, Colorado

Seth Walker is Texas' most notorious traveling poet and top ranked slam poet in the world. Seth has performed at venues across the country including Da Poetry Lounge (CA), The Green Mill (IL), & The Nuyorican (NY). Along the way he won: the Utah State Arts Fair Poetry Slam (2009), North Beast Indie Slam North-Eastern Regional 2010), as well as as slamming, with the 2010 Austin Poetry Slam Team and ... more

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