The Immortal Fairy Tale
*
In the beginning — a story was born,
and the child — became — another mouth to feed.
His lot — his place – in life — was set,
whether he consciously made the choice — or not.
As he grew — his physical weight — forever fluctuating,
however slight,
was the Earth’s burden to bear — the burden,
a gravitational equation.
Born with a will –an innate trait — he survived many a power play,
manipulating others with clever maneuvers — win, lose or draw.
His works – not original — but hand-me-downs — reproduced
for the sake of posterity — giving him — a sense of self-worth.
Aware — was he — of a certain personal freedom ,
ambiguously prescribed,
daring him to express it — in action — in thought — in private
conversations with himself — and his God.
He gave thought to his fortune — as it had been — as it was,
some earned — some luck — perfectly timed,
random and predictable.
As a man — he mused — over his material possessions,
his treasures.
The impermanence — of an heirloom — moved him to tears.
At once, he came to life — to love — to loss.
Women — and romance — had betrayed him.
He believed — in the integral attachments — compassion,
sympathetic consideration — and affectionate responses
towards those who were accepting — receptive — and warm-hearted.
Awake and alert — he attended to his soul — his mediator of purpose,
his philosopher of attitudes,
seeking every possible earthly accomplishment,
often in opposition to — his spirit – that unworldly intelligence
endowed from within — at ease in blissful restraint,
providing wisdom at its finest.
Thus said — he had himself a life.
His mortal commonalities had engaged him
to carry on — to wander through,
and to go beyond his individual fairy tale.
Experientially — he clung — to what he called his own.
With his defenses dropped — he owned up to the truth
past and present.
Never knowing how his story would end — he accepted the fact
that death – belonged — to those who had believed in it.
He struggled for longevity — suffering fools, fears and temptations,
calming himself with denial — vanquishing many a doubt — like magic.
There comes a time — this much he knew.
A time to forgive, and — a time to forget.
A thief would come one day — to steal his heart away,
to strip him of his name — his guilt — and his shame.
Purged — and cleansed — one hope would remain.
The immortal clean slate — the unborn giving birth
to every new beginning — to every questioning moment.
.
Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Lost in space.
“Once upon a time…”
*
April 24, 2010 at 6:07 am
love it
April 24, 2010 at 9:52 am
Thank you, Sarah!
April 24, 2010 at 10:23 am
In my beginning sperm found egg….me got and me smirched
eddipus
April 24, 2010 at 11:07 am
Dear Anonymous Eddipoodus,
Sorry to hear about the besmirching.
Sin-bads do wash away with time, soap, and
a little elbow grease. Mix them all together
in the nearest baptismal waters, and soak
for awhile. Don’t forget to bring a dry towel.
April 24, 2010 at 1:17 pm
I have to think on this one … then … revisit under sunny skies and a lazy afternoon! ‘Til then … be well!
April 24, 2010 at 1:44 pm
I can understand that, Penny.
This one is fairly heavily laden.
April 24, 2010 at 8:31 pm
Yood be two if she looked like an ant.
about your story, it’s goud. My favorite aspect of it is that you drew out the lines. That way I don’t have to hand write out 50 completely different way to string the letters together and then pick my favorite flavor of the whether (specially when the weather up there [my head] is not in apleasant park place.
so this one means a lot to me and my super-sexy mom!
Thanks Tree
by the way this is really dusty
April 25, 2010 at 1:55 am
Ants? In fairy tales?
You know…I had this ant farm once. Know what they raised? Heels.
Oratorical breaks, my man. To be read aloud, like a pulsating immortal.
Glad you liked it! I’m dead serious. Two weeks of associations,
and then I had to find a way to make it a tall tale, whilst
keeping it short and tail-less. No butts about it.
Your Mom is super sexy? She’s probably my age. Is she single?
April 25, 2010 at 6:33 am
I love fairy tail (the kind that really could be someones aunt or mother, not the kind with pronounced atom’s apples)
my real mom or my blog mom? real life, no married AND active Morman, and I the other is married too but I already dibs on shadow just in case at some point in the future she isn’t taken. So while the complex may be true for my blog self and while that spelling looks familiar, that was not me up there with the anony comment.
To answer you first question yep, both mom’s drop dead gorgeous and smartest two people I know or know of (other than me)
April 25, 2010 at 7:13 am
Woops!
There I go again,
sticking my big nose someplace where it doesn’t belong.
It was way too complex.
Good ol’ Ed was the one playing anony yesterday, btw.
April 27, 2010 at 1:28 pm
i’ve been gone too long Uncle Tree. i forget the magic of your words.
there is something so compassionate and healing here. thank you.
i swear you wrote this one for me…….like you can read my mind. that’s the
mystery of your work, it touches a universal heart.
oh and mr. eddipus, my garden is growing and taking over my life…..no words
necessary there…….just as i hoped.
April 27, 2010 at 2:46 pm
That’s a great compliment, Derek.
Thank you very much! I’m so glad you understood me.
I didn’t know what to do next, so I just started probing my soul.
The words in bold print were what I started with, and somehow
I worked them all in. It’s not pretty or quaint, and I don’t know
if I would even call it artistic. I called it poetry for no good reason.
It’s more like a philosophical statement, I suppose. But, it is me.
Good to see you again as always. I want to see your art work.
Well? Where can I find it? I’ve been playing on FB lately, too.
Yo! Take care, Doodleman!
UT
April 28, 2010 at 5:07 am
Beautifull artwork, the drawing and the poetry. The poem has a very interesting redaction style, I like it. It reminds me of a movie called something like “winter, spring, summer, … and again winter” have you seen it? it is highly recommendable.
I am really happy that you are doing this fantastic postings indeed.
Cheers mon uncle.
April 29, 2010 at 1:15 am
Thank you, Mariana!
I’m glad you found something to like about it.
redact: to formulate in a particular style or language
Is that what you mean? I just wanted to show exactly
where to make the breaks so you could recreate the rhythm
that was in my head. It is a bit broken, but accentuated, I think.
I have not seen that movie. You’ve got the right idea though.
It’s good to see you happy and cheerful. Have a really great day, girl!
April 29, 2010 at 4:19 am
Yes, so rythmic and lyrical…it’s as if it sings to me ! Thank you UT. I feel all inspired and content on reading (ahh…singing)…this !
April 29, 2010 at 3:43 pm
Thank you, Colleen!
Bah-bah-da-boom-diddlee-wink!
I’m glad you caught the back-beat.
What a stretch this was for me, Uncle Tree.
Your very own story is quite unique in itself,
but when you dare to go beyond –
the mystery of you becomes the magic in me.
Sing away, beautiful lady — sing away! UT
May 3, 2010 at 7:01 am
you are always there for a good read! Loved this!
May 3, 2010 at 2:30 pm
Yes, I’m still here — but barely.
Thank you, Cindy! Good to see you again.
May 11, 2010 at 12:44 pm
I’ve commented this before on another one of your writings, but I have to say it again, after reading one of your stories I feel like I have taken a mini-vacation – refreshed, renewed, at peace. Beautiful writing, UT. Beautiful. -Martie
May 11, 2010 at 3:15 pm
That’s a mighty fine compliment. Thank you, Martie!
“..refreshed, renewed, at peace.” Wow! Sounds like I hit the bullseye.
I wish I could feel that way after reading it. Guess, I’ll give it a few years…
May 28, 2010 at 6:49 am
What a great soul searching journey you have written about here, UT!!
Amassing and filling our bags with tangible souvenirs along the journey, the treasures and fortune in abundance from within are often obscured. You have done a great job at focusing on the real treasures here…forgiveness, hope, renewal.
Time to drop my bag of trinkets
May 31, 2010 at 3:09 am
Hello again, Elva!
Your trinkets fell in an orderly fashion, as usual,
and I always enjoy reading what you have to say.
This was a test, or a serious attempt at putting together
the circular story of life with previously chosen keywords.
I’m glad you were able to find a few meaningful treasures.
Thank you for the compliments, and thanks for stopping by!
UT
June 30, 2010 at 8:16 am
Oh this was lovely … and I love the image!
June 30, 2010 at 4:31 pm
Hello again, Lillith!
Straight up — I’m glad you liked the piece AND the pic of yours truly.
Thank you dearly!
October 2, 2012 at 7:08 am
A beautiful mix of words, that clearly describe dancing through life, on hope. ♥
October 2, 2012 at 7:44 am
Love it! and your blog!! ♥
October 2, 2012 at 6:18 pm
October 2, 2012 at 6:29 pm
♥ Quite exactly, Mi’Lady Cheryl Ann. ♥
Glad you liked this, and even more glad
to know that there’s more to this story.
I pray you’ll be around to help me write
and turn the pages ’till the book of our lives
on this earth comes to a very happy,
but inconclusive never-ending conclusion.
October 6, 2012 at 9:58 am
The rest is still unwritten, with a blessed hand, it shall be …
October 12, 2012 at 4:32 pm
And round and round, through time eternal. Was it once upon a time, or is it now and ever will be?
March 28, 2013 at 5:08 pm
As of now, Niamh, it is now and forever
’till Death do us a party on his lowly
grave, so solemnly somber ’tis a
pitiless pit – for groundless
are his accusations,
that we don’t fit
the mold.
Tree