Previous Challenge Entry (EDITOR'S CHOICE)
Topic: Encouragement( 02/23/12)
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TITLE:
Who Was That Scary man? By Linda Germain 02/29/12 |
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A blur of same-colored gowns packed tightly in their rows
With matching caps, some tassels swinging
Camera’s clicking, wiggled seats creaking…waiting
Plastic smiles on VIPs introduced to polite applause
Someone sang, perhaps the choir
Time like molasses tortured the already bored
And then the famous man strode to his appointed place…and spoke
All settled down to test their patience
Some folding programs into shapes or trying not to sleep
Hoping he would say his piece, short and sweet
Like every one for decades back had done…but NOT TODAY
Tall and commanding, more handsome than his pictures
The sudden deep controlling voice boomed throughout the room
Followed by silence as his eyes roved from each to each
Daring even one to move or turn away…and none would fidget or forget
With all attention at his call Famous Man roared once more
You may forget every word said at all assemblies but
This is one you WILL REMEMBER, I promise
A few coughed, ill at ease, but all eyes were forward…staring
For longer than normal for such a time he held them in his hand
Spellbound and confused but wanting more while hoping for an end
What I have to say will be a shock, but I know the truth lies not in this silly
Pomp but in each Circumstance…most of you will waste your lives
Huh? That wasn’t from the playbook of rah-rah talks
Almost-degreed folks expect to be served with honey on this
Marching day with family and food in the wings and futures
Waiting to be savored
Was he crazy? Still…they sat and didn’t move
Even now, covered by your robes, you’re itching to be done
To party all night long, to drink and sniff and snuff and reach
For things beyond your stupid brains to know what destroys and
Defines you ‘til you die. Here’s my advice: DO IT! DO IT!
Go for broke. Smoke it, taste it, shoot it. Be immoral and immodest as you
Dance in what you think is freedom down a street that ends
With broken dreams and most of you, who live to tell, will regret
Every silly road you took and had to turn around
Loved ones glanced from here to there thinking someone in charge
Would tell him to sit down and shut his mouth
He was not saying things they came to hear on this special day
When children big, but not all grown marched and smiled…how dare he?
He wasn’t through and paced the floor stabbing air to make his point
No word will you hear from me about how you are our future…
You are not mine, with your foggy brains inclined to yak and type and play
But couldn’t live a second with no power at your beckoning
Then he stopped and spoke with a caressing voice so soft
His sad, sad face near tears, pleading to be heard
But, there are one or two, or three…or more
Who, like cream, will rise above the rest of you who cannot wait to sink
The strangest speech ever heard on that campus or any other
Closed with one more snap of the great man’s verbal whip
I didn’t come to lull you with simpered junk you’ll forget before
You shed your matching covers and dash to what you think is fun
Nor pat you on the back and tell you what a great thing you have done
But grab you by your scruffy necks and plunk you down in reality
Like a mother dog moving babies to a safer higher ground
Until they learn to tread with wisdom in an unsafe world
With that decree he stomped off stage and disappeared
While anxious feet trod slowly to the table full of rolled-up papers
Tied with ribbons stating they had done what they had come to do
But in twenty years they’d still recall…the scary man who made them think
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