One of the best part of poetry is the fact that it can be used to tell stories too...
And sometimes when the rhymes and rhythm are drafted in perfect positions, it could turn out to be more interesting than ordinary poetry...
Here is a story and a poem fused together for your reading pleasure...
Image by Alessandro Squassoni from Pixabay
Say son...
Ya e'er heard of the Immortal Two?
That famous tale, of love and voodoo?
Well sit ya ass down, and let me tell it to ya,
In the true way, that only an eye witness can...
Ya see, in a bar, many many long moons ago,
I met this pretty lass, and she was pretty like so.
And 'cause I was young and stupid, I made her a pass,
Buh little did I know, fer this was no ordinary lass...
Now before I was done, of smoothly saying me bit,
That pretty lass, she sure as hell took out me wits.
Laugh at an old man, yes, buh me story is true,
Only yer couldn't know it, it didn't happen to you...
So there we was, pretty lass and me,
And I was love struck, a real life zombie.
At that moment, I could have killed fer her,
Ya, she could have asked, and I would have taken the bar...
Buh it was unreal, what happened instead,
And at first I thought, that it was only in me head.
Buh no no no, I saw it with me eyes,
Believe me son, this old man ain't telling yer lies...
Right in the middle of the bar, a strange blue light,
It shot out the floor, T'was blindingly bright.
And out came this fellow, a staff in his hand,
It was pure voodoo son, not any fantasy wand...
He lifted it up, and it sucks up our wills,
Every fellow in that bar, we were impossibly still.
Then with his other hand, he beckons that young lass,
And off she goes, to be caught in his grasp...
Buh my love for that lass, you see, nothing could halt,
So I followed 'em two, pure voodoo or not.
And as that strange light, whisked us all away,
I saw many a thing, me still cannot say...
Down down down, by strange light we go,
'Em two and meself, way way down below.
Till we emerged, o'er on the other side,
Then me eyes was open, to the reality behind...
Ya see son, that lass was no more a pretty young teen,
Than I could say, maybe a bit more 'n nineteen.
Buh then she transformed, and that fellow too,
They were each at least, say fourscore and two...
Now quick as a flash, that accursed love fled me eyes,
And in fear, I remembered those aged words of the wise.
That not all which glittereth, be same as gold,
For a pretty young lass, in me very eyes just turned old...
And so son, that was it for this here old man,
I knew it then, that we could do all we can,
But there are forces, livin' down in the ground,
Forces that could make sh.t, of any a master plan...
How I left that other side, I never could comprehend,
I only remember waking up, the left side of me bed.
And when I tried to tell, of 'em Immortal Two,
They called me crazy, I know they still do...
So they 'spired, brought me down this wretched place,
And everyday since, I only get to see yer face...
Buh today son, ya got to hear the truth of me tale,
Of 'em Immortal Two, that which ne'er will be stale...
Now get me em bloody pills, and be off son...
If yer need more of a tale, this old man here ain't telling none...
THE END
For context, our protagonist is an old man in a retirement institution, and his audience is the young orderly, who has only brought him his pills.
I hope you enjoyed reading through.
Thanks again for stopping by!
Cheers!
