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This story poem was written for Kristen and Arvin, who
truly believe they can slay life's dragons. Ya know, I think they're right . . . I believe they can.
"A FAIRY TALE"
Do
you believe in fairy tales,
And sometimes dreams come true?
Well, if ya do or if ya don’t,
I have a tale for
you.
I’m from a land, on a different world,
A land so fresh and green;
A place where everyone was kind,
And
loved their sweet, young queen.
Queen Kristen was young and beautiful,
With so much style and grace.
She
walked with such a dignity
That transcended time and space.
All of her subjects loved her,
She was a very benevolent
queen.
But she lost the king she married
To a nasty killing machine.
Queen Kristen was not happy,
And here’s how it all began:
An evil,
unpleasant dragon
Was creating havoc in her land.
But all her subjects were afraid,
The dragon was such a fright.
Kristen
prayed for one brave soul
Who did not fear the dragon’s might.
Oh, that dragon was a cranky thing;
A beast with fiery breath.
He roamed
the land and took delight
In bringing instant death.
He was not a very pleasant sort,
All the people called him Larry,
But
that name really pissed him off,
‘Cause he was mean and he was scary.
Young Arvin was a peasant lad,
As handsome as could be.
He loved his queen
with all his heart,
And yearned to set her free.
Yes, Arvin was a nice young man,
Never wanted to be a bother.
I
never saw him get upset,
Until the dragon killed his father.
Oh, Arvin was a peasant lad,
He was not a big, strong knight.
How could
he even dare to think
He could beat Larry in a fight!?!
But Arvin crept up from behind,
And cut off that dragon’s
head.
Loud cheers were heard throughout the land
As that dragon fell down dead.
Queen Kristen was delighted;
She had found her shining knight.
She
fell in love with Arvin,
And things turned out all right.
Well, it’s time to end my story,
And close this final
chapter.
I know you all have figured out
They lived happily ever after.
By The Mighty Mitchman, D. R. Mitchell
"The One Who Got Away" was written earlier this year,
2003. I got the idea for the title from an e-mail I received, with "The One That Got Away" in the subject line. I changed
one word in the title and, although I wrote this composition in a very short time, it was one of the most painful poems I've
ever written, but it was very cathartic. My heartfelt appreciation to J.P. for providing the inspiration. The subject of this
composition is the woman who had the most profound influence upon me and the only woman I've ever truly loved passionately
and without reservation. We were so very much alike and we had such an intense love. We thought it would last forever. Unfortunately,
it didn't. We are both very sensitive, and it was that sensitivity that tore us apart.
“THE ONE WHO GOT AWAY”
Well, I’m not one who thinks too much
About things that might have
been.
But I’d do it so much differently,
If I could do it all again.
I’ve been with many lovers,
And
I guess most were okay.
You were the only one who mattered,
But you were the one who got away.
When I walked away from you,
I got lost out in the rain.
I never
thought I’d have regrets,
Never thought I’d feel this pain.
When I turned away from you,
I stumbled and
I fell.
I wasn’t able to get back up,
I’m stuck here in this hell.
I don’t know if I’ll find you,
But I want to make amends.
We
were somewhat less than lovers,
But so much more than friends.
I’ve traveled down a bumpy road
And at
times I’ve gone astray.
I know I’ll not forget you,
‘Cause you were the one who got away.
You were one who really knew me,
And I know how much you cared.
I think
of times I spent with you
And secrets that we shared.
How I wish I never left you,
It wasn’t worth the price
I paid.
Knowing that I broke your heart
And you felt you were betrayed.
I cannot put a value
On the price I had to pay.
The awful pain of a
broken heart
Is more than I can say.
I know we loved each other,
So
why didn't I take a chance?
'Cause I was not as strong as you,
For a black and white romance.
After all these years I can’t believe
I'm still in love with you.
So many years have long since passed,
And I still feel the way I do.
Oh, babe, I long to tell you,
If I can find the words to say.
I wish it
had been someone else,
But you were the one who got away.
by D. R. Mitchell aka "The Mighty Mitchman"
"Clowns Are Scary" was written as a favor to Bob, a young
man who signed my Guest Book. I will be delighted to write a poem, or song, as a favor for anyone who signs my Guest
Book. All ya gotta do is ask.
“CLOWNS ARE SCARY”
I don’t like going to sleep,
‘Cause
whether day or night,
I often dream of clowns,
And they give me such a fright.
I really don’t like clowns;
In
fact, I never did.
I always found them scary
Ever since I was a kid.
Why are some amused by clowns,
Why do some people laugh?
For me,
they score a zero
On any humor graph.
Their hideous, painted faces
Are not funny in the least.
Painted
smiles are just a grimace
From the belly of the beast.
Why do clowns think it’s funny
Hitting each other on the head?
Or smashing
pies in someone's face
Only gives ME a sense of dread.
I know that clowns are caricatures;
But to me, they seem so
mean.
What others find is funny,
For me, is just obscene.
Clowns pretend to bring us laughter,
But they’re here to steal our souls.
They
have no other purpose,
They have no other goals.
Go ahead and scoff, my friend;
But ya know, for what it’s
worth.
They ain’t gonna stop at throwin’ pies,
They’re here to conquer earth.
I know I’m not the only one,
Who sees what’s goin’ down.
There
are others who can see it, too,
When they take a look around.
Well, I’m gonna go do my part,
And I know I’ll
do it well.
I’m sending ‘em back where they belong,
I’m sending those clowns to hell.
Copyright 2002, Deryl R. Mitchell
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"ONE I’LL NOT FORGET"
There’re not many that I think of,
Ain’t impressed by most I’ve
met.
But you’re one I will remember;
You’re one I’ll not forget.
You made an impression upon me;
I
think of things I saw ya do.
And, babe, I wish you thought of me
The way I think of you.
I think so highly of you,
And I wish you did, of me.
But that’s
the way life goes, sometimes.
It just ain’t meant to be.
I think I told you once before,
But let me say again,
You
have nothin’ at all to fear from me.
‘Cause I just wanna be your friend.
I know you’re a beautiful woman,
But let me tell you, if I can.
It’s
your style and grace that appeal to me,
And I’m your biggest fan.
You may not think the way I do,
But
I’m grateful that we met.
You’re one who’s very special,
You’re one I’ll not forget
Wish I knew why you don’t like me,
I don’t believe I’ve
been unfair.
But no matter what I say or do,
It’s obvious you just don’t care.
Wish I could think
of something
To try and change your mind.
But your actions speak so loud and clear;
I’d just be wasting my
time.
My thoughts of you are pleasant ones,.
But you may not feel the same.
Will
you think of me with heavy heart,
Or will you curse my name?
I know it’s time to hit the road,
And I do it
without regret.
I’ll think of you quite fondly,
You’re one I’ll not forget
By D. R. Mitchell
 I served for two years in the U. S. Army
during the Vietnam (undeclared) War. So - I suppose - in the opinion of right-wing conservatives, I
did my patriotic duty. I personally saw some of the dreadful, bloody carnage inflicted by that unjustified conflict.
Vietnam was a civil war. We were not fighting communism, or fighting for the feedom of the Vietnamese. We were fighting
to support a greedy, corrupt regime that no one wanted but the U. S. government, and the corrupt South Vietnamese military
/ political / business leaders. After leaving the military, I marched and protested against that cruel, unjustified
war. And now, so many years later, I am - once again - marching and protesting against an unjustified war
that George Bush wants against Iraq. The history of this nation supports the proposition that dissent is the ultimate
patriotism, and that blind acceptance of the govenment's policies, without question, is the ultimate treason.
I am proud to be a patriot. I am proud to dissent.
Sung to the tune of “Battle Hymn of the Republic”
(With tongue
firmly in cheek)
"GLORY, BOMBS AWAY”
- by D. R. Mitchell
Do
ya see the glory in
The bombing of Iraq?
Once we get it started,
Well, there ain’t no turnin’ back.
We're
gonna bomb the palaces,
And each and every shack.
Our truth goes bombing on.
We gotta show ol’ Saddam
He can’t thumb his nose at us.
He ain’t nothin’ but a royal pain,
Who’s makin’ such
a fuss,
When he sees those bombs a-fallin’,
I can’t wait to hear him cuss,
Our truth goes bombing on.
Chorus:
Glory, glory hallelujah,
Don’tcha fret what happens to ya,
Don’t let Georgie try to fool ya,
It’s time for bombs away!
We
are a mighty nation,
And we’re livin’ by the sword,
We know that God’s on our side,
So we’re
prayin‘ to the Lord.
Ol’ Saddam will be dodgin’ bombs,
No way he will get bored,
Our truth goes
bombing on.
Our country’s sons and daughters
May go marchin’ off to war.
I’m not sure they
really know
Just what they’re fighting for.
Saddam has left an opening,
But will we close the door?
Our
truth goes bombing on.
Alternate Chorus:
Bombin’, bombin’ those Iraqis,
Don’tcha think
it’s kinda tacky?
Some may think it’s even wacky,
It’s time for bombs away!
I don’t think we need this war,
It makes no sense to me.
Aint’t
no way that you can say
It helps democracy.
Oh, Bush denies we want the oil,
Damn his hypocrisy!
Our truth goes
bombing on.
I ask why we want this fight,
It makes me want to cry.
Old men always start the wars,
But it’s
the young who die.
I will not send my child to fight,
And here’s the reason why:
Let George Bush fight it,
first.
Chorus:
Oh, that Bush, he wants a war
So let him go and fight.
There are those who do believe
His
war just can't be right.
It's not his child who's gonna die
How can he sleep at night?
Ain't gonna send my kid!
Final
Chorus:
Glory, glory hallelujah,
Don’t let Georgie try to fool ya
Ya know he’ll always try to screw
ya
Can't wait to bomb away!
“I Am What I Am” was inspired
by Harry Chapin, a brilliant songwriter/poet and someone whom I greatly admired, not only for his talent, but - more importantly
- for his humanity. His tragic death in 1981, in an auto accident, devastated me and deprived the world of a kind, decent
human being.
"I Am What I Am"
A wise man once told me,
When I was just a kid,
"Write about the things you know,
Not stuff you never did.
Try always to be honest
If you can't always be kind.
Don't be afraid to speak out
And say what's on your mind".
God knows I'm not a religious sort
But then you never can tell.
I'm sure there ain't no heaven
And I pray there ain't no hell.
There are people I can't remember
Five minutes after we've met.
There are some who might impress me
And a few I won't forget.
Well, I am what I am
And that's all that I can be.
But then it begs the question,
"Who the hell else would I be?"
I'm not sorry for being honest
And I don't intend to be unkind.
But I am one who speaks out
And says what's on my mind.
©2006 D. R. Mitchell. All rights reserved.
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