A reflection by Richard Tattoni (c) 2009
I made a trip down a red brick lane
And felt the cherished crimson sun,
While following a young girl's pain;
Like time, moving forward and back,
Like steps of cosmic crystal wishes
To see sorcery from a witch in black.
A ramble on stony rivers of a dream,
Those slippers are elegant footgear
Disappearing from a girl's scream.
Spring leads a man to work with tin
And a crow to scare beyond a field,
A rebel kingdom where hearts spin.
See a lion with courage to see more,
From the enchanting caves of miners,
He discovers gems in a silver store.
The arctic monkey flies north to shiver.
I'm too cold as the world awakens,
Chilling clarity of images deliver
A thrilling find for a girl to discover,
From any new season of weather
Were shoes for a diamond lover.
It fashions ruby to favor show,
Fuck me twice before you go.
THERE GO THOSE RUBY SLIPPERS
Narrative verse by Richard Tattoni (c) 2010
Wood in my fireplace with time would burn
While I frowned to see the clock turn
Feeling Frankenstein in my soul,
So I watched a movie of his return.
I imagined a glass with ice and gin,
As it appeared, it made me grin.
The monster was locked in misery
But I looked for a new opinion.
Outside was rainy and the hour was wet.
As I turned on the TV set in haste,
I hallucinated beyond my job and debt
And a drunken state of waste.
I dreamed of being sober and younger,
I dreamed of a never-ending break ―
A vacation filled without dread.
I hated my horrible heartache.
Young Frankenstein never aged over years,
He was a myth Mary Shelley foretold.
The ogre never suffered a common cold
But had a tainted heart of gold.
I was a human clone of the monster,
Except he never needed a bank loan
Or cried while morbid and drunk,
We shared feelings utterly alone.
I moaned a melody carrying my chains
And feeling his unbolted pain,
Screwed together over drinks
And growing more insane.
The movie paused over a commercial
I stared deep into a picture frame;
My pale skin and my black heart,
Frankenstein looked the same.
My cobbled-together body was throbbing,
Scaring me to lose human sight
While I resumed a liquid dinner,
The monster, and me, cried with delight.
I heard he once sunk a girl with flowers
And Frank laughed about his powers.
I could only listen to Mr. Whale's movie;
There were no bridal showers.
I was more disfigured with every drink.
Beginning to sink, dropping down,
Striking perception and emotion,
I became a cancer-ridden clown.
The thought of me, a monster with a wife
Maddening like horror rife with strife
Or a sensibility void of reality,
I had loved and lost my whole life.
I was lonely, a hermit living in a vault.
Frank, the monster, and me, dined as a cult
Trapped in a world riddled with regret,
Afraid life was our fault.
I strapped a noose to the ceiling with a sigh,
While I knotted the rope, I started to cry.
A hopeless human transformed to die,
A monster wearing a tie.
Free verse by Richard Tattoni (c) 2009
Seven hills cross its history,
rising above Neptune's sea
and below strong-willed Apollo ―
a world glows radiantly ―
Rome will always be.
Renaissance and Baroque to see
architecture and vibrant art,
or hear twins of tradition
founding a glorious city,
roaming on an orb
from Romulus and Remus,
from Rome to Florence,
a new kingdom declares itself
known to be unknown
as an empire;
yet empowers hearts and minds,
inspiring Technossance artists
to take flight, to learn about