Elegy for a Poet

This came to me complete in a dream, including the names of the protagonists.

I hark back to the days when I

Began, in pen and ink,

To scrawl some petty poems,

How to feel, and how to think,

And people seemed to like the way

My simple little rhymes

Would trace a basic pattern

Through the heartache of their times.

 

So I continued writing; then

I typed my manuscripts,

I hit the keys so hard that

All my paper fell to bits,

But still I persevered, until

Computers stole the scene,

And little plastic keyboards

Put the words up on a screen.

 

But all along I used the name

Of Earle E. Everett,

I used it in the magazines,

And on the Internet,

My work was always copyright

I'd scrawl that little ©,

To keep the rights forever

For my family and me.

 

Then recently, while surfing through

A site I'd never seen,

A poem that I'd written years ago

Came on the screen,

I read it with nostalgia then,

I sat and read it all,

But written at the bottom was

The name of - 'Charles McFall'.

 

I looked in vain for something

That would say that it was mine,

That poem was a grape I'd plucked,

New fallen from the vine,

But nowhere did it state the name

I'd always seen there yet,

No sign that it was written by

The poet Everett.

 

I sat there stunned, and fearful

And angry, fit to burst,

I mailed the new Webmaster,

And I must admit - I cursed!

I said that stolen copyrights

Would take him straight to hell,

But there was no reply, the site

Was 'Unavailable.'

 

For weeks, until the early hours

I scanned that little screen,

I looked in vain for Everett,

The poet I had been;

But one by one my poems

On the sites, both one and all,

They ended with the message -

Copyright, by Charles McFall.

 

I went into the Office, thought

To phone the Inter-police,

For surely they could help me,

Could advise me on the case,

But then I met Security, they'd

Locked the Office down,

They said I didn't work there,

So I staggered off to town.

 

I thought I'd better phone the wife

I'd left in bed asleep,

I had an awful feeling, and

That feeling wouldn't keep,

I rang the mobile number, and

I said: 'Is that you, Darls?'

She muttered in her sleepiness:

'You'll want my husband, Charles!'

 

I'm sleeping in the gutter, in

A big old cardboard box,

Some hobo caught me sleeping

And he stole my shoes and socks.

I've given up on poetry,

On writing overall,

You'll hear no more from Everett,

I'm merely….

 

Charles McFall

 

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Norma J. Jessee]

David , this is absolutely fantastic,. Isn't our brain , our mind a magnificent thing ? And dreams, In ancient times it was assumed that dreams conveyed a supernatural message, then along comes Freud and tells us that the dream is a fantasy of the dreamer, natural--- not supernatural. We've been told they are omens, among many other things. But whatever they are, they always amaze and fascinate us. Dreams have an irresistible power that holds us spellbound and in awe. And to have dreamed a whole poem complete with names and be able to remember it upon awakening and write it down is in itself amazing.
But dreams like computers are only as smart as the force behind them, the person making them. Therefore David, you are the one due the honor and praise. The poem is splendid. You are an amazing and gifted writer.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I think this is the fear of every writer. You didn't have a dream; you had a nightmare. I, too, have stumbled across my work on the internet, with no mention of my name whatsoever.

Once again, I love your work. It's always unexpected; yet, somehow, close at heart.

Linda Marie Van Tassell

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

Quite humorous. Another delight to read. Thank you.
Light,
Siddartha

[Valentine]

David, when I had seizures for over 10 years I would get up in the night, write a complete poem and go back to bed..When I found them the next day I didn't even know I had been up doing it..I sometimes think my best writing was during that time of terrible illness caused by spouse abuse..Thanks for the terrific read and keep on haveing those dreams and remember to copywrite everything..God bless..Valentine

[Ray Hamilton]

What happened to your dream pot?
This is not a dream but a nightmare
If I knew your phone number and that you were having this dream
I could have called to wake you up LOL

See that's were being Not a Poet is a benefit no one wants to steal my work :)
I enjoyed this poem
Thanks for sharing
Ray

[Poeticpiers]

I enjoyed your fine description of a nightmare scenario. Presented as laways in perfect form I too often dream complete poems which I only need to transcribe when I awake. Perhaps this Charles is pulling our strings and we respond like marionettes ivor

[C.T. Bailey]

Better a dream than reality. All too often the moral fiber of some who would call themselves writers is a bit tattered. The write is brilliant and communicates a timely message as well. Dreams can disclose our greatest fears.

Very nice David,
Todd

[Deborah Leah Krempa]

Very well written. Thank you for sharing. Debileah