The Curse of the Statue

The Curse of the Statue

A Story by emipoemi

There’s a forest that fringes a humble old town,

With a dignified grandeur and modest renown,

Whose interlaced branches cast a vast shade,

That the heat and the rain are not hard to evade.

Ev’ry wonder throughout is exquisitely fair:

All the sounds to be heard, how nothing is bare.

The love that is shared on the branches of trees,

It all sets a trekker completely at ease.

And trek after trek are made by them all

Who live in the town (some big and some small).

At will down the old forest road they would head,

Remembering all that their Wise Man had said.

Especially how, as would be in a dream,

All the sights and the sounds seldom are what they seem.

In 1000 BC, with the purpose to scare

All the foes and the fiends with a frightening stare,

The natives, the Dringies" as they had been known"

Had carved out a statue of the finest of stone

With the head of a lion, its mouth open wide,

And fish scales that lined both its left and right side.

Then had added a necklace made out of dead flies,

And ruby red diamonds to serve as its eyes.

While positioning it at the heart of the wood,

They had conjured a curse so the world understood

That if any should look into the eyes’ core,

They’d turn into their mystical soul, pore by pore,

Which tend to be creatures either known or unknown,

But if one has none they would turn into stone.

Those blessed with the souls are most radiant and willed,

Who have many features that show they are skilled.

While all those without seldom feel any pride,

Don't know what they want, contemplate suicide.

Now the only way one could be human again

Is if another should pray to King Saldomain-

A king who was small with a heart that was kind

(They say he the magic produced through his mind).

It's to he whom the townspeople piously hail

As they each say their prayers at night without fail.

For it's he whom they love, who's their ancestral king,

It's for he why they all dance, gambol, and sing.

Unfortunately, since the curse had been cast,

So many have fallen, and thought to have passed,

For out of the many, so few had the lot

To have been recognized, and changed back on the spot.

The rest are still somewhere, inept to atone

For the crime that had made them their soul or in stone.

 

One calm summer morning before the c**k's crow,

Five brothers were walking in one even row.

They entered the wood recalling ev’rything said

By their Wise Man whose teachings were eagerly spread.

'Remain on the path,' he had said to them all,

'Or you’re surely, truly, sadly to fall.

Look around, but be mindful of where your feet tread,

Enjoy what you see, but recall what I've said.'

The brothers walked on, and enjoyed the fair sights.

They trusted their Wise Man, and knew he was right.

First in line came the eldest, Danny the wise,

The smartest, the fastest, and biggest in size.

In step, Mickey and Eddy were the next two,

And last came the twins: Lance and Darrel-Mumu

(The latter of whom was the slowest of all,

Most curious and one who was not quite so tall.

He in fact was the smallest one out of all five,

That at birth he by luck had the will to survive).

In silence they walked down the long woodland road,

Broken sometimes to sing out their brotherly code.

In order of age they would sing out one part

To ensure they’re together instead of apart.

And now at the ready, they sang on Danny’s cue:

Witwicky, Witnicky, Witlicky, Wittwoo.

Darrel-Mumu, the fifth boy, as they walked more and more,

Grew bored (which never had happened before).

He was always so cheerful, in wonder, aglow,

As he and his brothers through the forest would go.

But now he was bored with a frown on his face

(Perhaps many times he had walked through the place).

Yet, then, without warning, something flew past his sight,

And he stopped with a jolt, and looked to his right.

The grasshopper landed, its legs in the air,

Darrel-Mumu's eyes glowed, and only could stare.

The rubs of its legs seemed to whisper come here,

And, as though in a trance, the fifth boy drew near.

So by curiosity he lost all he knew,

And off from the path went Darrel-Mumu.

The grasshopper leaped from one place to another

While leading the fifth boy away from his brothers.

Darrel-Mumu just followed, unaware of his tread,

And not knowing to where he was now being led.

At the heart of the wood where the grass was bright green,

The grasshopper jumped, and was no longer seen.

Darrel-Mumu then realized what he had done,

And thought whether his brothers knew they were down one.

He whimpered, aware that the place was unknown,

When he suddenly saw that he wasn’t alone.

Wherever he looked, with panicked surprise,

He saw a stone statue with fear in its eyes.

He then recalled more of what the Wise Man had said,

'Beware of the statue with the great lion head.'

There before him it stood, its mouth open wide,

With fish scales that lined both its left and right side.

There was the necklace that was made of dead flies,

And the ruby red diamonds that served as its eyes.

Though frightened some force made the youngest boy dare

To look into the core of the lion's red stare.

And then golden specks of dust fell from the sky,

They clung to the youth, and hoisted him high.

Around and around in the whirlwind he went

While crying for help, which couldn't be sent,

As all of the winds howling loud far and near

Could not bring his cries to his four brothers' ears.

When all of it stopped, it was light when just black,

And the boy was a bird with a bright orange back"

The rest being yellow as bright as the sun.

Darrel-Mumu cried out, but words had he none.

It was chirp after chirp, that was all he could sound,

And that was what rang through the trees all around.

Darrel-Mumu, uneasy, flew into the air

In search for his brothers (who could be anywhere).

He finally found them, and flew to a rock

That lay beside Danny, who jumped back in shock.

The other three gasped, and circled around

To better look at the new species they found.

It stood proud and stately, its appearance not vile,

And the boys could have sworn they had seen the bird smile.

Then Mickey looked up, and saw something not right.

Yes! Something was wrong with the picture in sight.

Darrel-Mumu was missing! Where had he gone?

Whereabouts could he be in the forest that dawn?

He rose much in shock, informing the others,

Who started to panic when Danny cried: 'Brothers!

You know that he’s slow, perhaps just down the road,

And will be in sight when we sing out our code.'

And so the four brothers sang out on his cue:

Witwicky, Witnicky, Witlicky, Wittwoo.

They turned back to the bird as though in a trance,

Amazed it had sung out the last part with Lance.

And instantly wondered if this bird was he,

Their own little brother of high curiosity.

When his puzzled glance fell from its eyes to its beak,

The third brother, Eddy, then jumped up to speak.

'This bird must be Mumu! Come on, do the math!

His curiosity made him stray from the path.

He knew not to do so, and yet that’s what might

Be the reason for why he’s now nowhere in sight.

The statue had done it, the eyes made him rue,

He's turned into his soul, our little Mumu.'

One by one they all found that right was each word,

For they, too, saw their brother in this yellow bird.

With a moment of panic, Lance said: 'Quick let's recall

Ev'ry word that was said by our Wise Man to all

Of the perils that we must avoid or be dead,

Of the stone statue with the great lion head,

Of the curse of the Dringies and King Saldomain,

Whatever can make him be Mumu again.'

The brothers agreed, and paced, all in thought

About ev’ry lesson their Wise Man had taught.

The bird tried as well to recall what he knew,

And at last Danny cried: 'I know what to do!

The way he could ever be human again

Is if one of us prays to King Saldomain.'

He swivelled around, and, closing his eyes,

The eldest cried out to the hazy blue sky:

'O King Saldomain, good king of this land,

Of the waters, the trees, and the white ocean sand.

I beg to you now, please give us your hand,

For one of our brothers is at your command.

I can see in his eyes that he knows what he's done,

So please give back his body so we could be one.

I know he will promise it won't happen again,

And he keeps all his words, good King Saldomain.’

He opened his eyes, and stood fraught with fear,

In hopes ev'ry word had reached the king's ear.

But nothing had happened, his words seemed unheard,

Darrel-Mumu was still that small yellow bird.

While glancing at him he could feel his tears fall,

And the bird, still a bird, was not happy at all.

Not a moment too soon, though, an angelic light shone,

And got brighter and brighter, and brightened the dawn.

The boys quickly placed their hands over their eyes,

And saw through their fingers a silhouette rise.

The dust slowly cleared, and showed one of small size

With a smile on his face, and gleams in his eyes.

The others leapt up with a cry of 'Hooray!

Darrel-Mumu is back, Darrel-Mumu’s o.k.’

Then Danny stepped forward, knelt down by the youth,

And after a moment, he asked for the truth.

And so Darrel-Mumu was put on the spot:

'I followed an insect, but next time I will not.

So curious was I, but next time I will shout,

And when you all come I'll say check this thing out!

But Danny, I saw them! The soulless! They’re there

In stone by the statue with fear and despair!

Why not we go save them, so they also may

Carry on with their lives, and start a new day?’

Danny nodded, and said: ‘We’ll perform this intent,

But we first must acquire the Wise Man’s consent.

Yet, before we do that, I’m eager to find

Out the reason your soul is a bird of that kind.’

Darrel-Mumu looked up, his eyes met his brother's,

And circled around, and met those of the others.

'My reason for being a bird of bright yellow

With a bright orange back, so meek and so mellow;

For being a bird that does not even live

Is I'm curious, young, and imaginative.

For I’m, like you all, so radiant and willed,

And have many features that show that I’m skilled.

Those traits that I mentioned did make me that bird

Which you four deem amazing, and rather absurd.'

The older boys smiled, and helped up their brother,

Who took back his place in the line with the others.

And so they went on, once more in a row,

When out in the distance they heard the c**k's crow.


-EDP


© 2017 emipoemi



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Featured Review

This is a true piece of artistry, dear poet, good enough to grace the same halls as any of Homer, Edgar Allen Poe, and the other greats. I hope this is published or you have submitted it publishing. This not poetry, but literature and should be in textbooks. I am truly in awe of this piece. Well done is not good enough - Bravo!

Posted 3 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

emipoemi

3 Months Ago

OMG!! Thank you so much! I have a very hard time getting published anywhere, so reading this really .. read more



Reviews

This is a true piece of artistry, dear poet, good enough to grace the same halls as any of Homer, Edgar Allen Poe, and the other greats. I hope this is published or you have submitted it publishing. This not poetry, but literature and should be in textbooks. I am truly in awe of this piece. Well done is not good enough - Bravo!

Posted 3 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

emipoemi

3 Months Ago

OMG!! Thank you so much! I have a very hard time getting published anywhere, so reading this really .. read more
Every time I read something from you I am in wonder I am not reading it from a book. It's like... so put together and I can tell you thought about it, and took great care on the editing. Great piece.

My favorite part was: "Especially how, as would be in a dream, All the sounds and the sights seldom are what they seem."

It's something that rings so true I would get it as a tattoo. :)


Posted 3 Months Ago


emipoemi

3 Months Ago

That would be the first time someone would tattoo my work on them. Thank you so much! I'm glad you e.. read more

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2 Reviews
Added on June 20, 2017
Last Updated on June 23, 2017
Tags: poetry, poem, ballad, story, Seussian, magic

Author

emipoemi
emipoemi

Toronto, Canada



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A shadow striving for a name in the backlots. more..

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Cold Cold

A Poem by emipoemi