Mimicking the Classics
One of the best ways to appreciate an author or understand the content of a work is to
mimic the style. This month’s lessons are all about miming the classics. I hope you
and your class enjoy these lessons and please don’t forget to e-mail us your
examples. Your students will be sent a surprise gift with each submission.
K-2
I Pledge Allegiance to the World
I remember saying the Pledge of Allegiance every day when I was in school, but I never
remember any teacher explaining to us what it meant and where it came from historically.
Perhaps your students still say it every morning the way I did, “…one
nation, under god, invisible with liberty and justice for all.
What is the Pledge of Allegiance and why do we say it? This lesson is built on the
basic fact that the POA was an oath created early in the century when the country was
being overrun with new immigrants. It was thought that because of all the new diversity
coming to America, certain ethnic groups might decide to form their own little countries.
The oath was a way of reminding these newcomers as to where their true allegiance should
lie. Why we say it today is a bit of mystery except to say that our country has but
a few rituals and our national anthem is basically un-singable.
I Pledge Allegiance to the World
1) Begin by saying the Pledge of Allegiance with your class. Analyze the Pledge with them,
unraveling the meaning of words like Indivisible or Republic, or Liberty and Justice.
Talk about what a pledge is. Perhaps you have Brownies or Boy Scouts and they can
tell you their pledges.
2) The next step is to talk about writing a new pledge. My suggestion, at this dawn of new
millennium, when nationhood is less an issue than world-hood is to write a pledge to the
entire world. What are some things we would want the pledge to say? In some
ways a pledge is the like the school rules. We create them to live happily and healthily
together.
The following Pledge was written as a song for Earth day by the Van Mammens. It’s on
their album, Barley Bread and Reindeer milk.
I pledge allegiance to the world
to care for earth and sea and air
to cherish every living thing
with peace and justice everywhere.
3) Write a pledge with the class then have your students write their own pledges to
anything.
Example:
I pledge allegiance to my room and the house which it sits inside,
and to all the clothes not in the drawers and the socks on the floor,
one clean room, everyday, I promise mom.
Email your class pledges by clicking HERE
3-8
Once upon a time…..
Revising fairy tales has become an industry in the children literature market.
Perhaps the most popular of these revisions is Jon Scieiska’s famous The True Story
of the Three Little Pigs. My album of revised fairy tale songs also teaches how when
we stand in a different place, we see very different details. To revise a fairy tale
well we need to have some idea what a fairy tale is. Here is a quick lessons for
understanding fairy tales. Enter your classes work in our fairy tale contest by clicking HERE.
1) Read a classic fairy tale to the class and talk about what makes it a fairy tale.
Some basic things like, “it starts with “Once upon a time…”
might come up. Also the issue of the happy ending might arise, though not all of the
original fairy tales have happy endings, especially if you are a wolf-lover. Write on the
board your observations about fairy tales. One observation might be that a fairy
tale is often about a main character facing an obstacle and overcoming it through the help
of a magic or inner strength. Think of Hansel and Gretel or Cinderella. Talk about
creating obstacles to overcome for the characters in student fairy tales. To teach
this you might want to create a really tensionless fairy tale. Once upon a time
there was a poor boy who woke up one day and found that he had won the state lottery. Then
he lived happily ever after, THE END. What’s wrong with this story?
2) Now it’s time for us to write our own fairy tales miming the style of a fairy
tales. We get to write a fairy tale about anything we want. With the upper grades
perhaps you could take a current event or news article and turn it into a fairy tale.
3) Optional. Act out your fairy stories with story theatre. In story theatre, one
character is the narrator and the others are characters in the story.
9-12
Chaucer Revised
Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales can be a challenge for young readers who must
struggle with old English, but if they stick with it they often learn to appreciate
Chaucer’s bawdy humor and even grasp what a morality tale can be. Last November
at the European Council of International Schools conference in Nice, France I met a high
school English teacher named John Pitonzo. He told me about creative assignment he
has done with the Canterbury Tales. He had his students write their own in the
Chaucer’s style. Here’s what they came up with. If you teach Chaucer you
can use these as examples for a similar activity.
Lily de
Grazia.
PURGATORY STORIES
Prologue
There is no Spring, there is no Fall.
There are no seasons, none at all.
I feel no cold nor feel I hot,
For where I am weather there is not.
Nor is there color nor shine nor glow
Just gray sky above, leaden ground below.
And here I’ve been since that fateful day
When the ocean took my breath away.
How long has it been? How long will it be?
A lonesome, boring eternity.
So sit I here and words I rhyme
To pass the never ending time.
But now what’s this that shines so bright,
Approaching fast in golden light?!
A trumpet blast benumbs my ears.
The apparition in wings appears.
"I am the archangel Gabriel,
Come to lead you to heaven or maybe to hell.
Then in the new brightness suddenly
I am not alone. Other souls I see.
And Gabriel calls out loud to us
In a voice so sweet and melodious,
"I am your heavenly host and guide
Now twelve of you come by my side."
"In number like the Disciples ye shall come.
You dozen closest shall make this sum.
Now one by one come up to me
And give a brief biography.
Tell who you were and how you died.
Be very short then step aside."
First came Andrew, an elderly man.
"Near Bethlehem I was a fisherman.
I tried to catch a whale but had no bait.
‘Twas me the humongous creature ate."
Next comes John. "I am a poet," he said.
"Here is the reason that I am now dead.
Out of soaring airplanes I loved to jump.
When my parachute didn’t open kerplunkety thump.
Then Pete said, "I was a crooked cop.
I cheated and lied, I could not stop.
After a long, long life I died of old age
All by myself in a cold prison cage."
Raven-haired Phyllis a dazzling dancing beauty
Said, "I teased all the men. I was obscene, I was snooty.
But when the German general found out I was a spy
He had me executed without even a goodbye."
Simona was a prima donna in the opera.
This she proved by bellowing a loud "Do Re Mi Fa."
"I tried to sing the highest note that ever had been sung."
Poor thing she choked "Sol La Ti Do" and swallowed her own tongue.
"I am only eight years old, my name is Jimmy Little."
But everyone could see he was not little in the middle.
"I ate so fast," he said, "I caught a cookie in my throat
And ended up like dame Simona, a victim of a choke."
Maddy’s mere presence caused everyone distress.
She had been an employee for the vile IRS.
"Being struck by lightening was not in my design,"
She said, "That’s why I look like the Bride of Frankenstein."
"I am Bartholomeo, I work with goods of leather.
Never would I go outside no matter what the weather.
One day the world around me began to really shake
And I was crushed and buried, done in by an earthquake."
Jemima comes from London of high nobility.
She said, "I simply cannot speak to people beneath me.
I heard a vulgar voice shout out, ‘Hey Lady watch your arse!’
Of course I did ignore this and was flattened by three cars."
Came Judith and Thomas tragic lovers side by side
She said, "We were so sad we made a pact of suicide."
The poison was not strong enough they had a second chance.
Too bad that wall was in the way of the speeding ambulance.
Now it’s my turn, Theodora, "I’m a lazy bratty girl.
Just the mere thought of work makes me want to hurl.
Lying on the beach one day absorbing all the rays
I missed the fact the tide came in and carried me away."
"Now listen all," announced Gabriel, "here is my command.
You’ll travel now to Judgment Day and follow my grand plan.
Each of you will tell a tale, you each will have your say
Entertaining and amusing us as we make our way.
Come pluck feathers from my wings, the longest shall speak first.
The best tale wins a ticket to heaven, to hell will go the worst."
Phyllis’ plume the longest was the angel did surmise.
The rest of us were put in order by descending feather size.
Finally ready were we now from purgatory to depart
A flap of wings and a trumpet blare marked the very start.
Quiet now was every soul, angel, woman, child and man
For this was also when the very first tale began.
Phyllis’ Tale
There was a young man in Boston Mass.
A wealthy young merchant named Nicholas.
Some said he was a scoundrel a gambler and a cad
And many were the women this wayward lad had had.
He boasted that no lady could resist his seduction.
His sidekick Alexander said I bet I know of one.
She’s pure, virtuous and more beautiful than Venus.
Blue eyes and complexion both lovely and luminous.
Hair of polished gold and lips of ripened cherry
I’ll wager one year’s wages you cannot win this Mary.
So Nicholas and Alexander shook hands on the bet
And off to superstitious Salem where this tale is set.
Nick was full of cockiness and ready for some play
Until he saw sweet Mary who stole his heart away.
With her was her husband a seventy year old man
Lucius Allowishus the richest in the land.
Well-known as a miser his long and stingy life
Hoarding all his money and his trophy of a wife.
Nick told Alex, "My friend you must help me
For Mary is my passion, my life, my destiny.
She goes to church and worships every single day
And sits with pastor Patrick together they do pray.
I know this good old pastor he visits an orphanage
Where lives his secret offspring not born of holy marriage."
When Mary left Nick went in
And Patrick did remember him.
"I beg of you don’t tell on me
Or tarred and feathered I will be."
"Don’t worry Pat," responded Nick,
"I only want your brains to pick."
And so Nick learned what was going on,
That old man Lucius wanted only a son,
That he blamed his wife’s sterility,
When in fact it was his own impotency.
Nicholas said "I Know how her love I’ll win!"
In his head a scheme most Macchiavellian.
"Pastor," he said, "I want you to introduce them to me.
Tell them I’m a famous doctor from New York City
And inform the old coot that I helped the president
When his wife had trouble getting pregnant.
Later Mary will seek opinion from you,
Advise her to do what her husband tells her to.
Soon Nick and Lucius alone were having a chat
Walking into Church were Mary and Pat.
"Really!" cried Lucius "You think there’s hope for us?"
"Yes," warns Nick, "but it’s extremely dangerous.
I can guarantee you a son but you must listen with care
And proceed with this treatment if you dare."
"This amazing medicine comes from the Amazon."
Lucius was all ears as Nick led him on.
"Your wife must drink it and then immediately retire.
Now listen carefully your attention is required.
You absolutely must not join her in her bed
For the next man she sleeps with will surely end up dead."
"What!" screamed Lucius, "Then what am I to do?"
"We must sacrifice some other man in order to save you.
We’ll find a worthless street bum and bring him to your house
He’ll do the job then die, no one will miss the louse.
"But Mary will not do this thing. She’d never take part."
"I don’t know," said Nick, "She may find it in her heart."
"Patrick, " cried out Mary, "I need you urgently.
Listen to this crazy thing my husband asks of me."
The preacher hears the story and remembers Nick’s directions.
He looks at her and holds her hand and says with true affection,
"My dear you must comply with all your husband’s wishes,
This lot was yours the day you became Mrs. Allowishus."
Not convinced but bowing to her spiritual advisor
Mary goes home and tries to still the torment that’s inside her.
Nick and Lucius agree to meet dressed up in disguise
In the seedy part of town where homeless drunkards lie.
But Alex plays the role of Nick and Nick becomes the bum
Laying in a gutter stinking of cheap rum.
They pick up Nick and bring him back to Lucius’ estate
Where Mary drinks the medicine and awaits her awful fate.
Pushing Nick into her room Lucius’ job is done.
"It’s awful but it’s worth it," says he, "for soon I’ll have
a son."
Mary sobs in the dark, "Sir, I cannot let you die.
But wait I think I know you." as she looks him in the eye.
One year later by and by so much has come to pass.
Mary had a little lad they named him Nicholas
In honor of the doctor who provided the cure
Who looking at the child thought, "Looks more like me than her."
The "doctor" moved to Salem his life now is quite tame,
No longer chasing women, plays no betting games.
Another year what’s this I hear, old Lucius passed away
Happy and fulfilled he was up to his final day.
Everybody marveled when his will was known
For not until that moment had his generosity shone.
Half his vast fortune went in Preacher Patrick’s hands
Who without hesitation gave it to the poor orphans.
Soon Nicholas and Mary by pastor Pat are wed.
The orphans are the choir the vows lovingly said.
What is the moral of this tale so full of every wrong?
It can’t be right that these wicked deeds end in happy song.
Virtue is the place that’s true, perfection, good, all heaven.
But sometimes tis vice that leads us there by sins that number seven.
Canterbury Tale
Dylan Graetz
Prologue
I woke up early one Friday in May,
And went to my window to look out at the day.
The flowers were blooming, everything was alive,
The birds were singing, the bees busy in their hive.
Suddenly I realized I had to go to school,
I mustn't be late, as it was a rule.
I had to be in at the bells’ last ring,
But why not enjoy this beautiful day in spring?
Stay home for once and have some fun,
Sleep in late or bask in the sun.
Or better yet, go out, venture far,
I could take the train, no need for a car.
I would go up to Paris, a place I’d been only once,
But I dreamed of returning for many months.
Ideally these sorts of things are not done alone,
So I quickly got up and ran to the phone.
Then I realized no one was going to be there,
They were all going to school, how unfair!
So I ventured down to a small pastry shop,
I went to a booth and sat down with a flop.
I ordered a donut and began to think,
Of how I would find someone to link
Arms with on the journey I had planned.
Then a girl walked in her skin well tanned.
Her hair was dark brown, and her nose small.
Her eyes a chocolate color, she wasn’t too tall.
She had a navy blue shirt on and long, flaring jeans
She wasn’t out of school yet, only in her teens.
Hanging from her shoulder was a long black bag,
Inside was a walkman, some magazines and a rag.
I jumped out of my booth and went to meet her.
We had a quick chat and ordered a liter
Of water for the two of us to share.
And as we talked, I approached the situation with care.
I told her of my plans and she agreed,
That if I was to go I would need,
A companion or two to come along,
To share with a laugh, a story, or a song.
Maggie, (which was the name of this young lady)
Said she’d be glad to come and she’d bring a friend, Katie.
Katie was blond and had sparkling blue eyes.
She was always laughing, and was much against lies.
She wore a pink dress, and had the appearance of a Barbie doll.
She wasn’t fat and she wasn’t tall.
I don’t think she was older than fourteen,
And all that she brought was a bag of jelly beans.
She was certain that we shouldn’t venture out only us three,
“We need some others for company!”
We all agreed, but where would we find more?
Suddenly we heard a noise, just outside the door.
We went to see, and in the bar next-door,
We found a man sprawled on the floor.
He had fallen from his stool.
And was obviously a drunken fool.
He glanced about and tried to stand,
And as he did he grabbed Maggie’s hand.
She helped him up, and he stuttered a “Th-th-thank y-y-you,
Whoever you are and God bring you help in all that you d-d-d-do!”
Maggie being the friendly girl she was,
Began a conversation, about herself and what she does.
She told him about the journey in full detail,
And when she finished he told his tale.
He was a man of about twenty-four,
He had hazel eyes and the snout of a boar,
On his chin was a tuft of hair,
And his shirt was vent by a tear.
His tattered jeans were spattered with paint,
For he was an artist. He’d just lost his job and was faint,
From the amount of beer he’d just consumed.
“If I don’t get outa here, I know I'm doomed,”
Said he. “Come along with us,” said I.
As soon as these words had escaped my
Mouth, people around us began to ask
If they could be granted just one task.
They all wanted to come you see,
Maggie and Katie left the decision to me.
I closed my eyes and spun around,
I got very dizzy and almost fell to the ground
“You, you, you, you and you,” I said.
I’d pointed first to an old woman in red.
“What’s your name and where are you from?”
I asked, “What brings you here and why do you want to come?”
“I’m old and poor. I’ll probably be a drag,
My name is Ethel, but I won’t lag,
Behind the rest.
I’ll die before long, I'm past my crest.
I need to do something with the rest of my life, travel far,
That’s why I want to come along. I’ll go by train or foot or car,
Just take me with you please, that’s all I ask.”
It was an easily fulfilled task,
So we decided she could come.
Next was a big man with a handmade drum.
He was from Africa and made these drums for work.
By the door was where Baba lurked.
He was tall and round,
He wore a small, colorful cap, and carried a pound,
Or two of materials for what he made.
“I’ve been around the world twice, laid
In the sun and skied on the mountain tops,
But never have I been to Paris. Not enough time and too many cops,
For me to go alone.” With a laugh said he.
He was a jolly fellow if you’d asked me,
So he was also to come and now we were six.
Seventh was a good doctor, who could fix,
Any bone, mend any muscle and he’d never done anything wrong.
He’d worked all day and night for twenty years, which is a long,
Long time. He needed to get away for a while,
His mouth has gone from frown to smile,
At the sound of the words, “You too can come.”
His name was Charles and he quickly finished his crumbs.
Next I’d picked out was a woman of twenty years,
She was tall and pretty, but the make-up she wore was wrecked with tears.
Her name was Patricia and she didn’t say much.
She just said “Thanks” and touched,
My hand “I needed this like you wouldn’t believe,
I’ve been waiting for an invitation to get up and leave!”
We were now eight and there was only one more,
An ugly man, with a twisted face and the clothes he wore,
Were torn and tattered he was a very pitiable soul.
He was thin and weak, his body that of a mole’s.
His name was Ted, and like his name he was plain.
But he was a nice fellow, not cruel or vain.
His English wasn’t that good,
He’d not been given an education, but we could
At least tell that he was very grateful and we knew,
That he needed this more than us, it was true.
So now we were done,
We’d had our fun,
And were ready to go, all nine,
Everyone was happy it was all going fine.
We headed off to the train station,
I’d thought this was best for our vacation,
And I’d put myself in charge of the rest.
“I think maybe it is best,
If we do something to pass time” said I
“Tales be told or read. Everyone must try.”
We all agreed that this would be a fun way
To pass the time. But the whole party, the full array
Of people from all places and backgrounds had,
Stories to tell, some were happy, and some sad.
Only one person at one time,
Can tell a story, tale or rhyme.
So who then was to start?
“I have, you see, a bundle of tarts,
The one then who is fastest to gobble one down,
Should tell the first story on our way to town.”
Said Charles. “That is fair but a bit too easy
There is a trick to this you see.
The tart must be eaten using only your feet,
No crumbs can be left; you must eat the whole treat.”
“That sounds fun, fair and rather hard, I think.”
Said Maggie. “Afterwards we’ll need something to drink.”
So we all sat down at a picnic table in a park,
Where we could hear a bird’s song and a dog’s bark.
We soon got someone to tell us when to start.
There were many different ways to eat a tart,
We learned. People tried many things, brought their feet to their jaws,
Or laid on their backs. All methods worked as long as you didn’t use your
paws.
Two people gave up, a few tarts ended up on the ground,
It wasn’t easy, so we found.
Astonishingly, Baba was the first one who succeeded.
There weren't any materials he needed.
He laid on the ground,
And with his feet it the air, he rolled around,
Grabbing the whole tart in between his lips.
From there it was easy he needed no tips.
He just chomped on it until it was easy to swallow,
And then he did and there was not time for anyone to follow,
His method so he won the game.
He gained the first tale and also fame.
We all got up and to the station walked,
And listened while Baba talked.
BABA’S TALE
Once in a village there lived a fellow,
Who beat his wife, a kind, sweet, and mellow,
Lady. His name was Ben, and he was rude and cruel,
He was a dishonest, cursing fool.
But this was hidden from the rest of the town,
Away from home he was gentle, never down,
Happy, honest, trustful and kind.
A perfect banker you would find,
If you were to look for him.
But not if you’d asked Kim.
Kim was his wife and she knew his other side.
The one that from the rest of the world he would hide.
One day he picked up the newspaper and began to read.
He saw an opportunity and knew where it would lead,
An old wealthy man, that he’d known once
Was deathly ill, he’d been given only three months.
Wealth can be a terrible thing,
A peasant is often safer than a king.
Think of Midas and his touch,
It made him unhappy, it didn’t give him much.
Well, greed is equally bad, and is caused by wealth.
Ben thought he would gain from this man’s poor health.
He picked up his things and told his wife to keep hushed,
If she wasn’t she knew she would be beaten or crushed.
Ben traveled for three days and two nights,
He stayed out of trouble and fights.
He didn’t want his reputation spoiled,
There was money involved, his plan must not be foiled.
Ben finally reached the house of this rich dying man,
He said he’d work for nothing “I’ll do what I can.”
For many months Ben worked,
He listened to the man, and he lurked,
Around where ever the man was,
He gained the man’s friendship because,
He was clever and he knew how,
To keep sweat off his brow,
While gaining trust through deceit.
Thinking always of the ending treat.
He did everything the man asked for,
He washed him, shared riddles, gave medication and more.
They became associates in business, and friends in life.
The man lived longer than expected, though there were times of strife.
He said he owed it all to Ben,
Though there were other women and men,
Who he thanked and knew he must,
Owe a bit of life to. It was Ben to whom he gave trust.
But here is a little piece of advice,
Beware of those who seem close and entice.
Especially if you have things they might want,
For without knowing it you can taunt,
Them. People who pretend to be close,
May be the ones who hurt you most.
Beware of wolves wearing sheep’s skin.
Some of them may be friends or kin.
Delilah stole Samson’s power, think of that.
There are many, clever, tricky, rats.
Think of Cain who killed his brother,
Able. But that isn’t all, there are others.
What about Jesus and Judas?
Or Caesar and Brutus?
People you trust will often deceive you.
What people say is often not what they do.
Meanwhile at home,
Ben’s wife was no longer alone.
It had been three years and he hadn’t returned.
She’d spoken to friends and she’d learned,
That it wasn’t right, what Ben did.
So she’d married again and had a kid.
She’d married Ben’s boss at work.
He was kind and handsome. His name was Kirk.
He’d always secretly loved her, and her him.
She married Kirk, and now Kim
Was happy, that everyone knew,
How she’d been treated. And to
Never again trust Ben.
His reputation was ruined just then,
And if he was to return to the town,
He would be rebuked and put-down.
At this time Ben was becoming agitated,
He thought very hard and debated,
Finally he decided something was to be done,
It wasn’t going to be easy and it wasn’t going to be fun.
He had to kill this old rich man.
“I must do it in any way I can!”
It was too obvious to use a gun or knife,
Ben would use poison to take his life.
So after days of plotting and priming,
Everything was ready from the method to the timing.
He purchased a bottle of arsenic, and put it in his medicine,
He brought it to the man in it’s regular tin,
And fed him spoonfuls, one by one.
He ate it all, and when it was done
He fell back into an endless sleep.
Ben crept back to his room and made sure to keep,
An eye on the door to the man’s room.
A maid passed by and suddenly dropped her broom.
She saw him dead and began to yell.
People soon came, but no one could tell,
That he’d been poisoned, the death was foreseen.
Ben soon arrived and against the wall he leaned,
In fake distress,
He would never confess.
And no one suspected,
His plan had been perfected.
The funeral was prepared,
The guest list made, and the will cared,
For. On the day of the funeral everyone was sad.
Everyone except for Ben who knew that he had,
Gained from this misfortune.
After the ceremony there was lunch at noon.
This was followed by the legal issues.
Most people there were crying into tissues,
But not Ben, he was silent and reserved,
Waiting for what he thought he deserved.
The will was read and the people given their claims.
Women and men, everyone that came,
Was given something to remember this man by.
Vases, animals, furniture and ties,
Until only one thing lingered,
The lawyer was careful, as the will, he fingered.
“To Ben I leave my bank account!”
The lawyer read the astonishing amount.
Two million dollars were given, all to one man.
Ben thought it would be rude if he took the money and ran,
So he stayed around for a couple of days,
Helping people through their depression phase.
When everyone was settled, only then did he depart,
He said his good- byes, it was time for them to part.
He’d been there for three and a half years,
But he left with a smile, not in tears.
It was another three days and two nights,
Before Ben returned to his city’s lights.
But while he was glad to be back,
No one was happy to see him, they knew what he lacked.
He’d deceived them and was not forgiven,
From the town he was driven.
No one would give him food or a place to stay,
For any price he offered to pay.
He had to wander alone until he died.
Everyone had heard of what he’d tried,
To accomplish by killing this man, who was old and wealthy,
It hadn’t been his fault he was unhealthy.
No town would take him and his money didn’t help him.
His face became haggard and his eyes dim.
But he was forced to go on all alone.
He’d lost his family and his home.
He died alone after many hard years,
That exceeded even his worst nightmares.
He learned, and now so have we,
Money can cause catastrophe!
Be true to those that are dear to you,
And watch out for people who say things that they don’t do.
God bless us all and take care,
That life remains just and
AISF
Eighth Grade
The Prologue
Lauren Branchini
One crisp October day, November was approaching fast
Stress was mounting because of the marking period, it was the last
Day. I made the decision to go far away
To leave early by train the very next day.
No one needed to accompany me,
I just needed some time to be free
>From the overwhelming pressure of rule
That because I was a senior in high school
It the was time for me to weigh my decisions carefully and to choose
A college. I was experiencing what friends called the decision blues.
It was a Thursday afternoon on the day of the decision and a Friday
When I left the house with a note to Mom and Dad saying Id be away
For a day or two, but Id be back, not to worry
Yet in getting home I did not intend to hurry.
I left the house on Friday at the break of dawn
The first frost had come and settled on the lawn
Of Central Park, and I whispered good-bye to anyone who would listen
Just as the rising sun winked at me from a far-off mirror. The glisten
Of the sun encouraged me to leave, saying to me what I was doing was right.
So now I was on my own. Hopping on a bus downtown I felt as free as a kite
I didn't know where I was going, but I didn't really care.
What now? I thought, while jumping down the last stair
Of the bus and into the busy train station. I checked the clicking train
Listings, when suddenly I felt someone bump into me, not causing pain
But giving me a start. Oh, sorry we said at the same
Moment. We both smiled and he asked me my name
And where I was going by train. In reality
I didn't know, so I replied, Where destiny
Takes me, is to where I will go.
Are you like me or do you know?
Said he, I am heading towards the north, to visit
Some friends and my family. Why don't we sit?
My train hasn't come, so it doesn't leave for a while.
I agreed. We sat down at a table occupied by a pile
Of newspapers and each ordered a hot cup of coffee.
My names Nicholas, but, please, call me Nick. said he.
Nick was handsomely dressed from head to toe in black, like a true
New Yorker except his hair was light brown and his eyes were blue.
His was attending college for his first year ever
I asked if he had seen New York before; never.
He liked it here, but missed his family who were north, in Maine,
So he decided to take a long weekend and visit them by train.
I told him the short story of why I was here.
Trouble with school and boys must appear
Familiar to any female student in college when she will recall
The many problems she encountered in high school. All in all
I think he understood, although I didn't expect him to,
I don't think guys have the same problems girls do.
Nick told me about his small school where he was outnumbered by female
Students, two to one. In his house he was also outnumbered, the only male
With two sisters, and was only four when his dad died
So up until recently, all life he had desperately tried
To escape the small town in which he lived and now
Was on his own and loving it in New York City, how
He managed to get here, not even he knew.
We started talking about what I was going to do,
And where I was going to go
The answer, I still didn't know.
Would you like to come north with me? I'm going to Maine.
Its about five hours away from New York, at least, by train.
Sounds good, I replied, and scampered off to buy
A ticket at the only open window. As it happened I
purchased the last ticket available to
Go wherever the train took me; a new
Experience. Walking back to the table I saw that Nick
Was talking with someone. I took a glance, just quick,
To see the someone. With his dark complexion he looked very familiar.
Actually, the man talking to Nick was more than just quite similar
To a boy I had known many summers ago
Thomas, he was called. We used to go
To camp together, and became very good friends. At first I
Didn't believe my eyes, yet approaching the table I found my
Hunch was right. We hugged, talked, and laughed for a long
Time. Suddenly, Nick announced the train listing was wrong
And our train was leaving soon. I was about to say good-bye
To Thomas, like I did so many years ago, when to my
Surprise, I was told that he was going to accompany Nick and me
On our five hour long journey to the coast of Maine, by the sea.
As we walked to the platform Nick explained to
Me how he came to know Thomas. The two
Had met in college at the beginning of this year, their freshman year,
And were roommates. I then told Nick the two of us went to camp near
Each other, so we met often. Thomas was dressed as I best remembered him
He loved comfortable clothes, and was wearing a cap with a faded red brim
And a large NYU sweatshirt with baggy jeans and shoes made by Nike.
His eyes shone, even though his jet black hair was as messy as it used to be.
Thomas said he was going to meet his girlfriend at
The airport in Boston this afternoon, as we sat
Down in our seats on the train. We still had ten
minutes until the train left the station, when
I realized I had left my purse in the restaurant where we drank our coffee.
I asked Nick and Thomas to save my seat on the train, while, as for me
I would retrieve my purse and meet up with them. As luck would
Have it, I found my purse was still where I left it, on the chair of wood
In the cafe. As I was returning to the train
A plump girl ran into me, resulting in pain
In my shoulder where she hit me. Apologizing she asked me which
Was the train heading north, to Boston. Apparently she had to switch
Her ticket, she was running away
And she no longer wanted to stay
With her aunt. I told her to follow me that
I was, in fact, in the same cabin, and at
Half past seven, the train (Its the one that's brown.)
Would leave the station. So she could calm down.
She told me her name and the short story too
Of where she was going, unlike me she knew
She was going to Boston far away from her aunt who
Insisted she act like a child, which she was not. True,
Sadly, her aunt was her godmother, guardian, and legal protector, however
She was unhappy and had no freedom or independence, whatsoever.
She had never even been allowed to go out of the apartment alone
Or go out with boys, these were things her aunt did not condone.
She wore a light colored dress with a floral print
And her hair fell to her shoulders, blond with a tint
Of red. With her she carried a suitcase, plain and old
Bulging and looking like it was too heavy for her to hold.
We both climbed into the train and the girl of maybe fifteen years or so
Introduced herself as Alice, and we all shoved her heavy bag on the low
Storage rack, all four of us were needed to accomplish the feat.
We talked for a while, then each sat down in our seat.
Now that we all had all sat down we heard an old man shuffle by,
I couldn't help getting the impression he was looking in, trying to spy
On us. Finally, he shuffled in and hefted his own bag on to the low
Storage shelf, wheezing as he did. An elderly lady followed in tow
Behind her husband. She smiled as she entered the cabin and took her seat.
Folding her hands in her lap gave her the appearance of being a neat,
Pious old lady, which indeed she was. She took with her everywhere
The Bible. She and her husband looked like quite a pair,
One constantly griping or complaining, the other quietly, patiently reading
Or sometimes taking out her rosary and praying, according to the beading.
It was evident by his dress that the old man had been
A sergeant in a war, Vietnam I think. He had at least ten
Different colored badges and pins upon the jacket he wore,
He smelled of tobacco and very few teeth his mouth bore.
He seemed to have a deep hatred for a certain type of human,
Mostly young ones and Vietnamese, he liked very few men.
His wife, on the other hand, could not have been more amiable and pleasant
She had wrinkles by her eyes from smiling and was as plump as a pheasant
She wore a gray dress and a matching hand-knit shawl
Even with her orthopedic shoes she was not very tall
She and her husband were returning home from a week, not by the shore
But in Washington DC where they had been reunited with friends from war.
A girl of sixteen years entered the cabin just then
When asked her name, her response was, Jen.
She sat down in a corner all by herself
And did not speak to anyone else.
She didn't say where she was going or where she was from
She offered no reason to why she was going or why she was glum.
She was dressed in jeans and her hair was neatly tied back,
And a vivid orange-red it was, in no place her ponytail was slack.
Her skin was pale, except her cheeks, which were freckled
Her cheekbones highlighted the places that were speckled.
Her eyes were gray and glassy matching her sweater of pale gray.
A soft bell tinkled singing out the train was leaving, no longer to stay.
Shortly after, the train began to move, the cabin was filled, save one seat
There were sounds of rushing and rustling accompanied by those of feet.
In came a twenty-something who called herself Claire
Abercrombie & Fitch was the brand of clothes she did wear.
She hummed gently as she shifted her suitcase on the rack
Of attracting everyone's attention she had a certain knack
She wore baggy jeans, faded with wear
And a heavy wool sweater. Her hair
Was soft and shiny, reflecting care
Yet it blew gently around her face
Giving her the air of peace and grace.
Her hair was dark, the color of a ravens wing
And with a clear voice, like crystal she did sing.
Her skin, also was dark, though not so much as mine
And her eyes were almond colored. Adorned with fine
Eyelashes. Yet her eyes were what most bothered Sarge
For along with them being curious and rather large
They reflected her ethnic background, and despite her American citizenship
Distant relatives had immigrated from one place, had made the long trip
>From Vietnam to the United States, many, many years ago
Yet that would not keep Sarge's anger from starting to flow
Tension mounted in the room, and Claire
Was one hundred percent unaware
Of why there was such unspoken hostility towards her
Coming from Sarge, and it was not as if we were
About to say anything, what could we say to Claire?
So tension mounted, scenting the stale air.
So there we were, seated in the cabin, eight in all.
We were seated as follows and divided by a hall
Next to the window were Claire and I
Claire on the right, I on the left from the eye
Of one in the hall. Next to Claire was Sarge, as he insisted on being called
And Eve sitting patiently next to him. Next to Eve and balled
Up tightly in the corner was Jen.
Next to me was Thomas and then
Nick was next to him and Alice was across from
Jen. Smoothly and softly Claire continued to hum.
Aloud said Sarge, pointedly clearing his throat
To cut Claire short, After I was in the war I wrote
Down the wrongs of you young people. Unless
Something can be said of more importance, I guess,
It is my duty to relate the story to you.
Anyway, it is my belief that you do
Need to hear it, obviously, it is for your own good.
Nobody wanted to hear what Sarge said we should.
Obviously he did not know
What he thought he did. Low
And behold no one spoke up except Eve,
Really, do you think its necessary to grieve
Over the same story over and over and over. I say
Have one of the youths tell us a tale, in their own way.
Sarge laughed as if it was the silliest thing he'd heard, Do you really think
Any one of these kids could tell a story, to make time fly, like the blink
Of an eye? Ha, ha! How absurd! Let them try!
Well have a contest to see who can guess my
Age. Whoever's closest will win
The honor of being able to spin
The first tale. Okay, who's first, lets see!
Fifty four! Sixty nine! Seventy three!
Whether thanks be paid to Lady Fortune or Dame Fate
The one who guessed Sarge's age, precisely as the date
Of his birth, was Claire.
So, brushing her hair
Away from each eye
She began with Ill try.
Claire's Tale
When I was young my mother taught me a tale, passed down
From her mother and hers before that. It takes place in a town
In Vietnam, the name I just don't remember. In this town there lived a widow
And her two sons, Pin and Lap. Both sons loved their mother, they would hoe
The fields doing things she could not do in her old age
Both would say they could never even try to gauge
The amount they valued being a family, complete.
Like all brothers they used to race and compete
But they would never compete for the love of their mother.
When Lap made the decision to leave mother and brother
Many a tear were shed. For many years, to be exact, ten,
Pin ran the fields and kept all the roosters and the lonely hen
Well fed and happy. He missed his brother,
Though not as much as his grieving mother.
Day and night, she always used to cry
Never was that poor woman's eye dry.
One fine, pleasantly warm spring day
Falling under Taurus, the bull, in early May
Word went from village to village that
Lap had returned O! What a day! At
Last! cried his mother hearing the news. Lap arrived home
To a celebration just for him, complete with drinks of foam
And delicious foods. He asked the forgiveness of his mother
Which she gave him, happy he was home. Asking his brother
For the same, Pin said quietly, so no one else would hear,
Tell me why it is, Lap, that I stay here while not one tear
Falls for me? Our mother has been so sad that you were gone.
And now you come home, just come waltzing in on our lawn
And just expect forgiveness from me?
I don't know how could you possibly be
So arrogant! No, I do not
Forgive you! I hope you rot
In Hell! To this Lap chuckled softly, You need
Some time to relax. Enjoy the party. Take heed.
Wrath, ire and jealousy drove Pin to a vendor down the road,
Who would sell one drop of poison potent enough to kill a load
Of rats. He bought this poison, but had forgotten money to pay
So told the vendor he would return with the money the next day.
But the vendor would not take such an answer, instead
Pin gave him his necklace, he had now lost his head,
For this is what sinning does to the unfortunate sinner
Pin didn't realize in this situation there is no winner.
His necklace was his soul, the vendor Lucifer in human shape
For Satan is a serpent and can change form, from an ape
To storm. My friend, Lucifer is an actor, he plays his parts well. Take the part
Of enticing Enrique to kill King Peter, slice the knife right through his heart.
Lucifer performed marvelously as the sly
Serpent who brought sin to the two sent from high
Above, when he gave the first woman, Eve
The apple that made all of mankind grieve
Satan had won over Pin now
Lucifer had made him vow
To himself to kill his brother before the morrow
Not thinking of the consequences, or the sorrow
He would bring to his poor mother.
His only care was killing his brother.
Pin returned to the house and party, sneaking in the side door
In Laps cup he slipped a drop of poison, no need to put more.
Soon, the unfortunate Lap reached for his cup,
Drank a large gulp of his wine then looked up
At his brother, Pin. Its good to be home.
His last words echoed throughout the dome
That is our world. The clouds in the night sky
Simply opened up and began to cry
For the loving mother, and her two sons,
One now dead, the other having done
Lucifer's will, and paying for it soon around the bend
Of the future. After the sober event came to an end
The widow spoke not one word to Pin, but went up to bed alone
And never came down, the cause of her death was not known.
And as for Pin, the unfortunate sinner,
Be sure, my friend, he was not the winner.
He lived the rest of his life in the agony of knowing, for many a year,
That he was the cause of the deaths of the people he loved so dear.
xx |
