painting by Catrin Welz-Stein
The Key
“ We just need to find the key the unlocks the
right doors.”--Dan Groat.
When Randall was thirteen,
the world revealed itself to him
like a Monarch bursting
out of its dun cocoon.
All the good stuff--
literature,
art,
poetry,
cinema,
theater,
nature &
girls.
He was ecstatic to discover
the he was was
budding writer,
artist and acrobat.
Nature sang auras
drenched in sunrises
warmed by tropical breezes,
protected by mountain gods.
He was small for his age,
became branded as a Nerd,
was bullied by other less talented students
and was adored by his teachers.
He loved Shakespeare,
and he wrote a one act play
all about a special boy
who was bullied.
One day he invented a magic hat
that was shaped like a lighthouse
and it had a mystical lock on its side.
He fashioned a wondrous key
for the hat in metal shop
and it was a perfect fit.
He felt from that day forward
that all problems had solutions
and his key unlocked the answers.
When he was 23, sitting
in a prison cell, he began to write
his three-act plays, all about those
vulnerable young boys who went
to college, fell in with a fast crowd,
got into drugs, became an addict
and a dealer, became lost souls
who went down in flames.
His hat became
a cone of shame,
a beret of regret.
The only keys he ever saw
were on the belt of the guards.
A song lyric buzzed in his head;
“another one bites the dust.”
Glenn Buttkus
Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub
19 comments:
Oh yes!!! This image is definitely a Randall.
LOVE this tale and the details added to the image.
Sooooo glad you posted to the prompt, Glenn. It's been a long time what with our travel and all.
Wow - The is phenomenal! I am clapping just a brilliant story/poem. I see you have not lost your creative touch and your pen weaves a message as well. So sad that the key that unlocked doors, now confines him.
So glad to see you back, Glenn, and you've come back with a stunning story poem! I hope you are feeling much better and you'll be at the bar more often. I've missed you.
Bravo!! (clapping)
Well, I didn’t see that ending coming, optimist that I am 😉 What a geat story.
So terribly sad. We need better pathways for artists, that's for sure. Truer places to shine.
How sad. I had higher asperations for Randall. Oh well, at least the butterflies are still with him
Wow! Wonderful tale woven expertly. I was stunned at the ending.
A stunning, and saddening, twist at the end, Glenn! But brilliantly executed. Love the story you wove through each line!
Dreamers are vulnerable ...
I liked the progression from the magical hat to the hat of shame.
Beautifully written twist.
Oh, Randall. So sad. Dreams are powerful stuff. I thought he was going to rule the world, but no. Still, he keeps creating, so t here is hope.
A Shakespearean tragedy for sure...where are the butterflies now?
Sad story esp since there is such truth in it
I so wish that it had an happy end... I feel a lot like him actually (but never fell in with the wrong crowd)... so glad to see you here writing again (and sorry for being late coming back to comment).
To form a key to keep you free is a broken dream so much more painful when a soul becomes the lock
Glenn! I've been wondering where you've been! Your Randall is sadly not unlike most of us who are shown truth and beauty but forsake them for worldly illusions of security and prosperity. Locked up in jail cells all the same.
https://gospelisosceles.wordpress.com/2017/11/28/falling-stars/
your poem is such a treasure for those struggling with identity, i saw that key as the thing he needed to keep his life on track and it kept opening the wrong doors. just like real life.
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