Saturday, May 2, 2009

It Was LAST Month? (first entry)

Using my amazing psychic abilities -- you know, the ones that usually end up killing people -- I departed from the norm here at TLotSF last Theme Thursday, and presented a poem rather than some of my usual drivel one of my more typical prose compositions. I say "using my amazing psychic abilities" because, unknown to me, April was National Poetry Month. But I didn't learn that until after I'd posted my poem.

Just sayin.'

But echoing the "feel" of one of my favorite cartoons, I found myself saying "It's this month?" during the early part of April 30th.

Yup. It was.


But screw it, folks! I make the rules here.

So for the next few posts, to make up for "missing" all but the final day of National Poetry Month, I'm going to throw a handful of poems and songs atcha. Some of them -- all of them, actually -- are pretty ancient, written when I was a young man, but finally writing stuff good enough for me to consider sharing it with you twenty to thirty years later.

(And since you may be wondering "How the hell are we supposed to know which are songs, and which are poems, since there's no audio track to this silly blog?" the answer's quite simple. If I say it's a song, it's a song; if I say it's a poem, it's a poem! I envisioned each of these efforts as one or the other, regardless of whether or not I actually composed a tune to go with the so-called songs!)

This first song is the story of a young man named Moses -- no, not that Moses -- who created an imaginary girlfriend for himself while a social outcast in high school. Unfortunately, when it comes time to end this little fantasy, he discovers she's become a bit too real. So he can't just dispose of her simply by thinking/wishing her away.

In my early twenties, I often borrowed tunes from "real" songs rather than write my own. I didn't consider it plagiarism because I didn't intend to ever publish these songs... at least, not without first changing those tunes. The melody -- and thus, the format -- of this one is from a Kris Kristofferson song called "Casey's Last Ride." You may recognize my title from an old saying...

* * * * *

...I Put Away Childish Things (January, 1978)

Moses walks the corridors,
Trying the unopened doors,
Crying for his sanity,
Wishing for a beer.
He smiles at the uncanniness;
Then he drops his manliness,
Crying through his vanity
To taste a salty tear.

And then she nears him, smiling, as she was at her creation,
When he called the perfect woman to become his dear Roxanne.
And as she nears him, beckoning, all in his imagining,
Though his two legs tremble he can still find strength to stand.

"Oh," she said, "Moses, it's been so long since you've summoned."
"Now," she said, "I can only hope it doesn't end."
"Dear," she said, "You've made love but never been made love to,"
"Here," she said, "I'll be your companion and your friend."

Moses tries to force a smile,
Though he knows that all the while
He's been growing older.
Now he calls a spade a spade.
No one else can help him
With the problem that envelops him.
Clouds have blocked the sunrise.
His decision has been made.

And as he looks right through her to the wall which blocks his vision,
And dramatically withdraws a pistol both know isn't there,
He stares at poor Roxanne, his love. She is weak, she's had enough.
Wraithlike now, she settles on a dusty, worn-out chair.

"Wait," she said, "Then you still can have me when you need me."
"Fate," he said, "I'm afraid has made a different plan."
"So," she said, "Fantasy's no longer what you're wanting."
"No," he said, "Once a boy, I've now become a man."

Moses lifts the barrel up.
She cries like a wounded pup
As he pulls the trigger
Of the deadly phantom gun.
And as he does, his childhood dies,
Lost amidst her plaintive cries.
He is far from happy
Though his dreadful deed is done.

He swore that he would grow up, so why does he feel so guilty?
There is nothing now but silence in an all-but-empty room.
He now knows that his adulthood holds in store things not so good.
Darkness swarms around him to increase his inner gloom.

"Oh," she'd said, "Moses, it's been so long since you've summoned."
"No," he'd said, "Once a boy, I've now become a man."
"Wait," she'd said, "Then you still can have me when you need me."
"Fate," he'd said, "I'm afraid has made a different plan."

"Fate," he'd said, "wants me to live all my life alone."

* * * * *

And maybe someday, if you're all real good, I might just treat you to the sequel!

See you soon with another poem or song.

Thanks for your time.


  1. Sequel, please. I feel like I only got half the story.

  2. Well, if I do post the sequel, I should warn everyone that -- as is usually the case with sequels -- it isn't as good.

  3. Well, well, at last a prose poem I can read. I normally give up half way through but NOT THIS TIME. I loved it and I'll back to peruse your site a little more....Valerie

  4. here's to hoping the sequel lives up to its predecessor. nice post to end poetry month.

  5. I was pretty sad when I had to give up my imaginary friends but damn...I never shot them. That's just hateful. lol No wonder he only had one....hahaha

  6. Would you call me crazy if I told mine are alive and well and living in my closet? More than one actually...and for some reason they are oh so much easier to get along with. Seriously though...why did you not mention these sooner! I love reading even bad poetry let alone something as wonderfully crafted as need to be writing, why put yourself through the torture of not!(and on an aside...was the Tell ~Tale graphic ever completed?) A little snooping on the side ;)

  7. Crazy? No. A bit... warped, in a good way? Perhaps.

    As for The Tell-Tale Timex, the story was finished in comic form by myself and my friend & writing partner, artist Skip Simpson. It's part of a proposed three-story Poe graphic novel which has not yet been completed, though.


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