A Christmas Poem

Discussion in 'Justice for JonBenet Discussion - Public Forum' started by otg, Dec 12, 2015.

  1. otg

    otg Member

    Several years ago (probably to amuse myself) I started writing another version of a certain well-known Christmas poem. I’ve come to associate Christmastime with the tragedy we all come here to discuss. Each year I dragged out what I had started and tried to write a few more lines. This year, I finished it. This poem will mean absolutely nothing to anyone who doesn’t follow this case like the posters and readers here. But to those of us who are addicted to it as we are, I offer the following.

    I want to share it with those of you who can take parody in the spirit it is offered. If you think you might be offended by my using this subject in a parody, if you think it’s inappropriate to use a tragedy as a source of humor, or if you simply think my attempt to ridicule the Ramseys and those associated with the case is too irreverent to the memory of an innocent child, please don’t bother reading any further. Have a happy holiday.

    But if you’re big enough to take it, I hope you enjoy...

    ‘Twas the Day After Christmas
    (with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)

    ‘Twas the day after Christmas, when all through my house
    Not a person was rested, not even my spouse.
    The staging was finished, it was all done with care,
    In fear that the cops would soon be right there.

    Our last child was nestled all snug in his bed,
    With the fear of prison that I’d put in his head.
    With Pats in her “last nights†and I in my drawers,
    We had just called the cops with me on all fours.

    In less than ten minutes there came such a crowd,
    I couldn’t believe it -- that house got so loud!
    To the front door went Patsy to greet the first cop,
    So much left to do, but we just had to stop.

    The look on his face made me think he could see
    That something was wrong (but he had nothing on me).
    Patsy’s splayed fingers across her damn face
    Made him think that something was just out of place.

    The truth had been something we just had to bend,
    And I feared all that morning that this was our end.
    More people had come in response to our pleas
    .(Had we dotted our i’s and crossed all our t’s?)

    First Fleet and Priscilla, then John and Bar,
    Everyone came from near and from far.
    There was Linda and Rick, and Reichenbach too;
    Whitson and Mason and others we knew;

    Patterson, Walker, Weiss, and Barcklow,
    And with Victim Advocates Reverend Rol was in tow.
    So all through the house they puzzled this ruse --
    .Our friends and the dicks and even the blues.

    Soon time had passed with no kidnapper’s call,
    So I slipped away silently to go check it all.
    I finished it up to wait for detection;
    All that I needed was some minor correction.

    She was wrapped up all tight like an Indian papoose,
    Her favorite blanket and her neck had a noose,
    Her hands overhead were tied really loose
    .-- All this and more just to hide the abuse.

    Her eyes and her neck had little red dots.
    .(I hoped that no one thought I could tie knots.)
    On her mouth was laying a small piece of tape;
    All in all, she was in really bad shape.

    A piece of a paintbrush tied into the staging;
    After all, you know, this was war we were waging.
    I had to protect my loved ones still living;
    I did everything with no thought of misgiving.

    She was cheerful and happy -- a joy to us all;
    And now she was gone -- what a karmic curve ball!
    Back on the first floor Linda said, “Look.â€
    What’s this kind of copwork? This ain’t by the book.

    I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work.
    This cop’s not a genius; in fact, she’s a jerk!
    We thumbed our noses that day at the world,
    While suspicions of us from that day on swirled.

    We got on with our lives, to hell with them all.
    Even Hunter agreed we deserved a privacy wall.
    But now I can say to the old and the young:
    .“B threat of lawsuit, if you know -- hold your tongue!â€
  2. Thor

    Thor Active Member

    Wow OTG! That is really good. I think of JonBenet every year about this time. This makes me want to rewatch my DVD of Perfect Murder, Perfect Town again. You speak the truth!
  3. JC

    JC Superior Cool Member

    I love it!

    And while I'm at it, happy holidays to all!
  4. questfortrue

    questfortrue Member

    Really excellent, otg!

    The poem so rightly mocks the phony gravitas portrayed by ‘the revisionary’ who revised and revised his stories until he could no longer remember what he’d said.

    And December 26, 1996 marks a point in time when the ensuing actions of the DAs shattered our trust, disorienting anyone who previously believed in the judicial system.

    It is hard not to think of JonBenét at Christmas time. Thank you, otg.
  5. Elle

    Elle Member

    I replied to OTG's poem Thor, but I don't see it.
    My computer is acting up methinks.

    Obviously OTG is very talented with writing poetry.
    It was very well written!

    Three cheers for your courage OTG!
  6. Thor

    Thor Active Member

    I'm with you Elle! Great job!
  7. RiverRat

    RiverRat FFJ Sr. Member Extraordinaire (Pictured at Lef


    Amazing! Exactly as if you were there with your tongue in cheek...19 long years though can bring about a satirical and/or sarcastic moment from time to time AND a deeper appreciation level for when it does happen this magnificently!

    2015 JFJBR ~
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