The Pleasure of Mystery on Halloween

author's note:

There's bad scary and then there's good scary.

Have a good scary Halloween!


THE PLEASURE OF MYSTERY ON HALLOWEEN

Voices mixed with footsteps
from some revelers in silhouette
echo from the cross street
a block from my house--

the words unclear--distorted.
Maybe those shadows are alien beings.

Well, that’s alright--
I don't want to feel safe tonight.

Those echoes ring within me
as I sit here on the porch--
I’m being invaded--
a chill thrills my belly

and that’s just what I want
tonight.

But then the party-goers go on--
the alien echoes die.
I sigh

then listen to the silence
--the emptiness--
both outside and in...

Suddenly the world is perfect:

I'm as deep and as dark and as bright
as that witching-hour sky.

And I realize:
I’m an alien in an alien universe

and you, you’re an alien too!

But that’s alright
I don’t want to feel safe tonight.

© 2020, Michael R. Patton

The Monkey King

author’s note:

Written at time when people could still monkey around.


THE MONKEY KING

Wishing to express
his secret self on Halloween
the man of aspiration planned
to go to the party
dressed as a warrior
or a king
or
a warrior-king

but the sales clerk told him:
“Sorry, but it seems
  this year everyone wants to be
  either some type of warrior
  or
  some type of royalty.
  All we have left on the rack
  is this monkey outfit.”

“But I don’t want to be a monkey,”
  the man whined.

“Think about it,” the clerk replied.
“Can an armored knight
  scale one hundred foot of jungle vine
  in a mere minute?
  Can a king swing from tree to tree?”

Though not quite persuaded
the man of aspiration acquiesced.

At least, I'll be unique, he thought.

But no!--
he arrived at the party house
to find
half the celebrants dressed
in the same monkey costume
he’d bought:
the shop had unloaded a truckload
purchased at discount.

That clerk made a monkey out of me
our man sighed as he deflated.

But in his humility
he shrugged what the hell
and lowered himself down
to join that crowd
in their monkeyshines.

And what a freedom of fun!--
those pretend-simians
flailed and hopped
in a dizzy giddy dance--
they filled the room
with their gibber-jabber--
occasionally bursting into
high-pitched hollers
that made the roof shingles shiver.

Some swung from the balustrade.
Some kept putting banana peels
under the heels
of those with upturned noses.

But then
towards the end of the evening
that barrel of monkeys
calmed a bit
and paired off to pick
imaginary bugs from synthetic hair.

In this way, our man met
a woman who, like him
dreamed of wearing
both sword and crown.

A good match
aided, I believe, by its low-brow
beginning--
consider:

better I first see you as monkey
before knowing you as royalty
otherwise
I may feel disillusioned
when I discover my highness
sometimes slides
all the way down to the ground
on a grapevine.

© 2020, Michael R. Patton
40 New Fables: ebook

The Push

author’s note:

Often, I’ll want guidance...but then, I won’t want the guidance I get.


THE PUSH

I feel I’m being pulled
by some unknown force
along a path that is mine
and yet, not clear to me.

Due to this lack of clarity
the way I’m pulled sometimes seems to lack reason
and so in doubt, I resist
though I’ve learned from experience:

if I hesitate too long
I will be pushed.
Softly, at first.
But then, if I continue to protest
the push will gain in force

until I finally submit
to what I think I don’t want.

However, after I surrender
my anxiety may only increase:

though my feet march forward
inside I’ll still struggle.

So to create some peace
I'll surrender in another way:
I will take a breath and just listen
to what ricochets in my head

which has the effect
of quieting that commotion
at least a little
but sometimes more--sometimes
if I let that quiet grow
I may then detect
something in the depths within:
a dark yet positive mystery--
faintly felt, but undeniable.
A subtle shade of energy.
Nebulous yet stable.
It seems to be
both me and not-me.
Somehow I know it knows me
completely.

The force behind the push and pull, perhaps?
Or merely an accomplice?

Whatever the case may be
after feeling its strength
I will emerge, feeling stronger

for a little while at least:

too soon my head will begin to talk again.

But even as my hands tremble
I’ll step with greater confidence
as long as I remember:
though alone, I’m not alone
but accompanied by
one much wiser.

© 2020, Michael R. Patton
Listening to Silence: poetry ebook