You are challenged to write a poem to the theme "In Cahoots with Santa".
You may use the phrase as title and/or anywhere in your poem, but it must appear at least once.
Post your poem to this Topic Thread on or before December 11, 2024. Letâs see what comes of this!
~
She was in cahoots with Santa,
fitted rockets to his sled,
a randy female engineer
angling to share his bed.
She didnât fancy Mrs Claus
not her type she said,
but if Beardy couldnât cut it
sheâd try being Bi instead.
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Woooaa! Youâre all over this, Gyppo! Nice take on the prompt.
Cheers.
T
He was a unique sort of a chap,
cahooting was a way of life.
Married twice to young teenage girls,
but he didnât attend the weddings.
When fighting the French in 1838,
with much valour,
half his leg was blown off.
Retrieved, it was given a full state funeral
procession, speeches, poetry readings
and canon salutes, later
fighting the Americans
his prosthetic limb was captured;
it still resides in the
Illinois State Military Museum.
Fought for the Spanish
against his own people, then
uncahooted,
helped liberate Mexico.
Cahooted with America
to help unexile him, when returned
he uncahooted,
recahooted with his home troops
and sent the American army home.
In cahoots with Thomas Adams
he inadvertently
introduced chewing gum to the world.
President so many times
they actually lost count,
exiled so many times
but always returned.
A sellout for some, a âvendepatriaâ.
Whatever your take,
he died aged 82 in 1876,
remembered for the Alamo,
lived a giantâs life
a monumental one.
He played his game, and
it seems to me that it wasnât
so much him cahooting,
it was the world
in cahoots with Santa.
Colm-- very nice piece of poeting!
Probably not what you had in mind 
I might try a more traditional one?
In cahoots with Santa
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even that louse
her stockings were hung by the chimney with care
they were full of holes and matted with hair
The children were nestled up snug in their beds
or so their brand new foster parents said
And mamma in her drunken stupor, vomit in her lap
had just settled down for a long Winterâs nap
Out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But my beloved dog, Rick, killed by a spear
My little old friend, so lively and quick
I knew in a moment who slaughtered my Rick
More rapid than eagles towards her I came
And screamed and shouted and called her these names
You douchebag you dickhead you poser you vixen
you bastard you killer itâs gonna be crucifixion
to the top of the porch or the top of the wall
or Iâll bash away bash away and nail you to the hall
And after Iâd finished, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And I said You better get out of here Jack
His eyes â how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of an eye and a twist of my knife
Soon gave him to know Iâd endanger his life;
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
As blood filled his boots; when he turned with a jerk,
I sliced off his nose like a hot knife through butter
as he H H H Hoed with a stutter
I rammed his body back up the chimney with glee
her corpse soon followed so that no one would see
They planned to sprang to his sleigh and fly away
but I read their texts just the other day
Theyâd have made a lovely couple, old Nick and my wife
and the slaughter could have been avoided without too much strife
If sheâd been honest and open and did me right
Iâd have gladly handed her over to that big red piece of shite
Thereâll be no Christmas this year and that is such a shame
I suppose you could say itâs my fault, but you know who to blame.
Fame went to his big red head, and too big for his boots
that corrupted Christmas Casanova drifted far from his roots.
I contacted Mrs. Claus (on Tinder) to let her know the story
turns out sheâs a hot chick who likes amori beneath the arori bori
I was invited to visit, to spend time in her lovely Lap Land,
so Iâm cahooting and canoodling up here, itâs cold, but itâs grand.
In Cahoots with Santa
âTwas the night before Christmas, yep, that time again,
No reindeer, of course, only UPS men.
No stockings were hanging, no gifts were in sightâ
The commerce of weeks to be wrapped in one night.
With coffee in hand and a mess all around,
They wrestled with boxes and cursed at each sound.
âI thought you had wrapped this!â âNo, you were in charge!â
âIâm out of paper! This box is too large!â
The room was a riot of paper and bows,
Scraps fluttered like snowflakes, tape stuck to their toes.
The dog snatched a cookie and munched with delightâ
âWhy are you stirring? Get out of my sight!â
A crash from the tree set the cat to a run.
They smiled at each other, âAt least theyâre having fun.â
One started to chuckleâa snort at the startâ
Then the other joined in, with a laugh from the heart.
As the hours ticked by, they got into a groove,
Each package a puzzle they managed to smooth.
The ribbons grew neater, the tape less askew,
A system was formingâwell, kind of⌠who knew?
The scraps found a home in a bag by the wall,
The gifts stacked like Jengaâunsteady, but tall.
The cat dozed at last in a tinsel-lined bed,
While the dog fell asleep with a bow on his head.
From up on the roof came a jingling sound.
They looked at each other, then they looked around.
No footsteps, no sleigh, just the still of the night,
Yet something had happenedâthis all felt⌠too right.
The gifts were all wrapped, and warmth filled their home.
Together they knew that theyâd not worked alone.
And though they saw nothing, they knew it was trueâ
Theyâd cahooted with Santa, and Santa came through.
Travelist
Iâve been in The Hague,
Amsterdam, Antwerp, and Paris
with friends, family, and alone.
To Brussels, Luxembourg,
Echternach, Trier
on holiday long ago.
Iâve been in London,
Leicester, Glasgow, and
Newcastle upon Tyne.
But never was I
in Cahoots with Santa
nor with anyone else.
Dream Weaver Set
Five years old
right before Daddy Joe
went away to Vietnam
I asked Santa for a swing set,
wished and believed with
all my might
On Christmas morning
I woke up knowing,
looked out my window
A wish came true
because my parents
were in cahoots with Santa
~Deb (a day late)
In my defense, I just got here.
Framed
Blitzen and Vixen were drinking Fanta
and gin, in between nose-blow toots;
but to their chagrin, an unseen spin
found them in cahoots with Santa.