Wednesday, November 21, 2012

I'm back! Here's a poem.

Finally getting settled in the new city, and things are going well. Writing is still taking a back-seat to finding a job, but today I broke the silence and started scribbling down some writing exercises over breakfast at McDonalds (inside Walmart, no less - take THAT Starbucks.)

I'm hoping to get around to visit people's blogs and check out some stories etc, which will probably be the extent of my engagement for a little while. But I will be writing again- it's too much of me to not do it for long.

In the meantime, and for your general amusement, I found an old journal of mine while I was unpacking, that had some early scribblings.

Here's a poem-type-thing that is ridiculous, totally overwrought, and enormous fun, that I actually presented live to a room full of people back in my days as an actor. Enjoy!


Requiem for the Discarded Sock Puppet I Saw in the Train Station Stairway

Your cold, dead, crayola eyes stared back at me.

Never more would they stir,
Dancing, flickering, alive.
Stretched over nimble fingers.

Your jaw that was a thumb
is now a memory,
Your inky blue nose will no longer
sniff and incite giggles.

For you, my cotton/poly friend, will know
no more days of amusement.
Your fate lies in having your
Crumpled, grey, footprinted body
Swept away in a mound of cigarette butts and coffee cups.

Your life, though brief,
Was one of innocence.
That you existed at all speaks of intense goodness.

Where you a child's favourite toy?
A trifle amongst lovers?
Maybe you gave body to an insane man's voices.

Maybe in the next cycle, you will become a favourite sweater.

However you lived your life,
You did no wrong.
You were merely the victim
Of a stark, cruel world.

Nevermore will you be dryer-fresh.
Nevermore shall you cling mischievously to a silk shirt.
Nevermore to hear the giggles of those you entertained.

This morning, I found another sock.
Dead of a broken heart
In my dryer.

It is for you, and for all other missing, once-loved socks,
That I lay him here to rest.

Though he be interred,
And you remain,
Unreachable. A corpse in the public realm,
I can only hope that your two souls will combine.

In the Elysian fields of fabric softener.

Requiescat en pace.

~~February 12, 1999

(P.S. when I performed this, I actually had a sock puppet with me that I put lovingly into a shoebox at the end.)