There were days that even Judy had the Blues.
But there are days when all lost souls do...

Sunday, May 23, 2004

Earnur's Lament

Those who broke into the tomb
Were first and those who did
Not choose to look were wise.

"Oh darling,"
Then the walls begin to sigh,
"Oh, darling,
If we push a little further,
We may die…"

Such sounds that float upon the breezes
Slip softly past the outer shell.

Inside the tower high above
Along the winding stair
Our cruelty ascends;

Oh hear the voice
Oh hear the voice
And turn aside from where
The bodies of the dead attend.

Here seven jaded ladies knelt
To rearrange their face;
Here seven savage widows stood to draw
The line and mark the place.

In this perfect solitary room the dying
King reflects upon imaginary wounds.

The shadow of a fated king
Cast up against imaginary walls,
Cut down, cut down to living size,

The darkness in the faded heart
Of reason bound on every side,
The image of a skull in dreams
As seen through dreamer's eyes.

Now men with pale gray eyes
Complain they cannot breathe
And ghostly feminine faces
Promenade around the tomb.

Cold hands of age complain against the years
And with both sword and knife
Strike out at spider's threads

And hands of grace immersed in tears
Reach out, reach out
To light the candle long unfound—
Yes, here, here beside the bed.

Now all these phantom figures moving in the gloom
The dying king reflects upon,
Until he takes his bed of death, reclines at last
And gasps, without a mask, without a sword or mask…


Current draft: 05/05/04
©1972 Ronald C. Southern

Footnote: Earnur -- A passing historical reference from J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of The Rings" trilogy. "The Silmarillion" tells more about him, how Earnur, the last king of Gondor, rode alone to the gates of Minas Morgul to meet the Morgul-lord in single combat. "Betrayed by the Nazg├╗l, he was taken alive into the city of torment and no living man saw him ever again." Hereditary Stewards then reigned for many generations until the downfall of Sauron, brought about by the destruction of the One Ring and the return of the King.

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Judy Garland's Blues

Why was Judy Garland sad?
Did she have everything—but not love?
What drove Judy Garland mad,
Or do I give her too much credit?

Was she just privately unlucky, after all the public luck?
Did she have two armfuls of nothing in the worn valises
She dragged into another mansion of expenses, pills, and airs
Amid lost things never declared, forever beyond her reach?

Did she have everything—but not love?
Was she too often left behind as a child
Or was she poisoned in the vein
As by too many drinks or a rattlesnake...

Twisted by some familial demon spirit she became
That Voodoo spirit, the reel and spin, the deadly living blues,
Forever frightened—no matter her age or image or magic—
Of what to choose and what to lose, out of control to the end?

Did she, like you, like me, have everything—
But could not feel the love that others gave
Or stay as brave as needed every moment?


Current draft: 4/12/2010
3rd draft: 04/26/05
©2004 Ronald C. Southern br/>
[This is a separate and different title from the blog title.]

Colorful Judy

The Creature

Ron Southern,
Chigger, Texas, USA

Personal Labels:

Clean and easy-going. Dirty-minded, paranoic, catatonic, droll, drastic, dramatic, savage, uptight, dribbling, abstruse, and timid.

Not to even mention artful, artistic, abusive, misleading, abrasive, manipulative, dodgy, sneaky, and totally unforgiving!

How about poetic, pansified, petty, pornographic, always preening, and a little peculiar about what feels good!

The Poem With The Similar Title

©Ronald C. Southern

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