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The statue spoke with a voice that echoed for centuries
As we stood in that dread cosmic citadel.
Surrounded by the dying celestial bodies,
It pronounced its sentence upon me.

Was it all predetermined? said I,

And was answered only by silence.
I gazed again into the eerie twilight of infinity.
For minutes verging on eons, we drifted
Into the quiet certainty of decay.

I spoke again, knowing the question at last:

Could I have changed it?

A bell chimed in the blackness.
The Statue Spoke,
and all that remained of Creation spoke with it:

Would you?

I looked at the darkness without
That was as Sol itself compared
To the darkness within.
I had known what it all meant
When I made my decisions.
I may have hoped otherwise–
But I had known.

No, I said finally.

All at once, the Fortress began to collapse,
And my Stony companion and I
Were left to the pitiless void.
And before the Universe and I felt each other snuffed out
That awful voice said to me:

Then it was you who predetermined it.

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In this forest, each night seemeth haunted and dark;
The cold Autumn landscape relentlessly stark;
While the beasts of the night snarl and bark–
As in legends of Devils and Ghosts.

I can hear the melancholy wind as it moans,
Swirling around the trees and the stones,
Making the branches to rattle like bones,
As night birds cry out from their posts.

In the dying orange light of the fire
The shadows a-dancing begin to inspire
Shimmering shapes all dreadful and dire
Surrounding me here in my room.

I glance at the door, to be sure of the lock,
Another wind gust makes the cabin walls rock.
And I fancy I hear an inhuman voice talk
And whisper of pain and of doom.

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At last, football is (almost) back!   I love the Hall of Fame Game weekend.  Sure, the game is barely actual football, and I’ll probably tune out after the first two series, but it’s nice to start the season off with a little appreciation for the sport’s history, followed by a nice, easy re-introduction to watching football.  It would be no fun to just dive right in to the regular season right away, now would it?

Yeah, ok; maybe it would.

Anyway, it’s time once again for my annual haiku football season predictions.  I’m pretty proud of last year’s predictions, in which I correctly picked the Patriots to beat the Seahawks in the Super Bowl. Let’s see how I do this year.

AFC East

Patriots

The Defending Champs

Make it back to the playoffs–

But lose their first game.

Bills

Loaded on defense–

But offense doesn’t seem to

Be “The Real McCoy.”

Dolphins

Improvements will make them

A wild card contender–

But can’t beat the Pats.

Jets

Rex Ryan Redux–

With a lackluster offense

And a strong defense.

AFC North

Ravens

Flacco will surprise;

And they ride his career year

To the Super Bowl.

Steelers

Changes on defense

Will be too much for loaded

“O” to overcome

Bengals

Dalton and Lewis

Get one more Sisyphean

Underwhelming year.

Browns

Can Johnny 12-step

Still be the Cleveland savior?

Wouldn’t bet on it.

AFC South

Colts

It’s just like old times–

A strong regular season

Followed by heartbreak.

Jaguars

They’ll be really bad–

Like, really, really awful–

As in, not too good.

Titans

Mariota is

The next “game changing” QB

Who crashes and burns.

Texans

Strong defensive line

Coupled with decent offense

Makes them a sleeper.

AFC West

Broncos

There’s an old man called

“Peyton Manning”. He’s still smart.

But he should retire…

Chargers

…But “Old Man Rivers”

Still has a few good years left.

Will win Division

Raiders

They say Carr is good,

But I am still skeptical

Of their playoff odds.

Chiefs

The blandest of teams

Has a chance to surprise,but

Can’t beat the Chargers.

NFC East

Cowboys

Can Dez be worth it?

If Romo can stay healthy

They’ll win division

Giants

Odell’s all the rage;

In for a sophomore slump.

Tom Coughlin’s last year.

Redskins

The name is not all

They should consider changing–

Also need new offense.

Eagles

Bradford will not last

And the Sanchez/Tebow show

Will make a comeback.

NFC North

Packers

This is the year they

Break the curse of the Seahawks.

But not the Ravens.

Bears

Crazy like a Fox–

But he can turn teams around.

Will be a fifth seed.

Vikings

Bridgewater breaks out

And they will be very good–

But not playoff good.

Lions

The wheels will fall off;

Johnson’s old, Stafford’s not great–

Back to drawing board.

NFC South

Saints

Will still be a threat

Even without Graham et. al;

But can’t beat Panthers.

Panthers

Will beat the Saints. Twice.

As I predicted above.

What more do you want?

Falcons

New coach improves them,

But won’t overtake Panthers;

Not until next year.

Buccaneers

Can Winston be good

On and off the gridiron?

Probably neither.

NFC West

Seahawks

It’s not picks that kill;

Nor the two straight scoring drives;

It’s that last, long yard.

Cardinals

With ‘Hawks hungover

Will take Division title

And win playoff game.

49ers

Need to win it all

To explain canning Harbaugh.

That will not happen.

Rams

Bills/Jets of the West:

Strong running game and defense,

But no Quarterback.

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[To the tune of “When Britain Really Ruled The Waves”, by Gilbert and Sullivan.]

Miami really ruled the league

In good Coach Shula’s reign;

They won with dominant defense,

And a run-based, ground pound offense;

And got to pop champagne.

Yes, they ran the perfect campaign

In old Coach Shula’s glorious reign!

***

When Belichick beat Martz’s Rams

And the Greatest Turf Show fell–

The Patriot receiving corps

Did nothing too spectaculor—

But did it very well.

The Pats, they built a dynasty

Thanks to their strong, hard-hitting “D”.

***

And when the Bills of Buffalo

Learn from league history;

And their front office does not trade

For wide receivers overpaid

Or some has-been RB–

The Bills can be a dynasty

With good Coach Ryan’s awesome “D”!

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In keeping with my criticism of the lyrics of old songs, let me talk about Marty Robbins’s 1959 country hit El Paso.  It’s about a cowboy who falls in love with a dancer named Faleena.

My love was deep for this Mexican maiden/ I was in love, but in vain I could tell 

The old “you love her, she doesn’t love you” problem, eh? Yeah, that’s no fun.  So far, a good, solid tragic tale of unrequited love.  But then, our narrator relates, one night a guy comes in and starts flirting and drinking with Faleena.  So how does our tortured love-lorn hero handle this?

So in anger I challenged his right for the love of this maiden/ Down went his hand for the gun that he wore/ My challenge was answered–in less than a heartbeat/ the handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor

Wait… so he killed the guy who, for all he knew, might well have been Faleena’s actual lover or husband?  “Challenging his right” when he himself had none?  That seems… borderline psychotic.  Ok, so it’s a crime of passion and he says he regrets it but still, it’s a bit extreme.

Having done this “foul, evil deed”, our “hero” skips town and flees to New Mexico, only to decide he can’t stand to live without Faleena, and so he rides back.  (This takes Robbins about as long to sing as it took you to read it–the song has some pacing issues here, and you’re left with the impression he rode away and then immediately turned around and rode back.)

When he returns to El Paso, the citizens are waiting for him and they shoot him as he rides back into town.  It’s unclear what length of time he’s been gone, but apparently they recognize him instantly from hundreds of yards away and are waiting to kill him.

Finally, as he lies dying, he sees Faleena, who kisses him as he dies in her arms.  (Some have suggested this is just his imagination, which would indeed be the only possible way this makes any sense. Why would she kiss the man who apparently killed her boyfriend?)

It’s a testament to how pleasant the music, and Robbins’s voice, make this song sound that it’s such a hit.  Lyrically, it’s not a love song at all, but rather a song narrated by a psychopath.

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Symbols, shapes, and puzzle pieces–
Queer and ancient Formulae–
All appear upon the crumbled desert wall.
Obscured with sands from Eastern breezes,
Here are signs, but none can see
What things they signified before the fall.

The All-Seeing Eye, the Winged God;
A haunting vigil they are holding here,
Exuding pow’r where’er their shapes recur.
This is the ground that prophets trod–
And fled as well, perhaps in fear,
As many a fallen Idol will aver.

At the base, a bony memory
Holds forth the remnant of a hand,
Bleached white from innumerable days.
Whether he is cautioning, or he
Is beckoning–who can understand
The meaning of that vacant gaze?

 Like this poem? Then maybe you’d enjoy my book of similar short stories and poetry.

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I think there are a lot of people who don’t really listen to song lyrics.  This occurred to me the other day as I was listening to the song “Waltzing Matilda”–the unofficial Australian national anthem, by Banjo Paterson.  It’s a catchy tune, but it makes no sense.  And no, I don’t mean because of the Australian lingo.  Here are the lyrics, via Wikipedia:

Once a jolly swagman [vagrant] camped by a billabong [a pool of water]
Under the shade of a coolibah tree,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy [tea] boiled:
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me?” [“Waltzing Matilda” means wandering carrying your belongings in a bag.]

Down came a jumbuck [sheep] to drink at that billabong.
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee.
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag:
“You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me.”

Ok, so what kind of sheep is this that you can fit inside a bag? Or did he slaughter the sheep before he did that?

Up rode the squatter, mounted on his thoroughbred.
Down came the troopers, one, two, and three.
“Whose is that jumbuck you’ve got in your tucker bag?
You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me.”

This is a remarkably efficient police force–homicide investigations are not treated with the same rigor as this sheep theft. Also, why do the policemen use the same expression?  Are they planning to carry the guy off in a bag?

Up jumped the swagman and sprang into the billabong.
“You’ll never take me alive!” said he
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong:
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me?”

So… this guy committed suicide rather than give back the sheep he had stolen? Was the punishment for sheep theft worse than death?

Now there are indications that the song is based on a true story, and is in fact related to an incident in the 1891 Shearers’ Strike. That means it has some political subtext.  If that’s the case, it might have been better to mention it was a striking worker, as opposed to a passing tramp.

Anyway, that’s my opinion.  Don’t let it stop you from enjoying the song; it’s a nice little tune.  Maybe some other time I’ll post about why the confusing syntax in the official United States National Anthem is so annoying, and why we should replace the “Star-Spangled Banner” with the “Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

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The trees are blue beneath the autumn moon;
The witches and the devils all cavort–
The creatures of the dark awake, and soon,
The King of Night shall hold his Court.

Whether in the gloom of lonely countryside,
Or on the garish neon city streets;
The Spell is felt by people far and wide,
And finds expression in saying “tricks or treats”.

‘Tis not merely some carnival of lights,
Nor yet a complicated costume ball;
‘Tis the exaltation of those magic nights
When all the world is held in Other Forces’ thrall.

The changing of the seasons brings along
A touch of the mysterious and weird.
As we acknowledge, in story and in song,
The spirit world that men have glimpsed and feared.

Be thou not afraid, my pious friend;
To hearken back to old beliefs of yore.
It would be utter folly to pretend
Such things were not here long before.

(more…)

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Into the cold above he gazes,

Watching with a mournful eye

Where the fearful star of G’NURREMAHD blazes.

 

Through the centuries uncounted

The mighty orb has seethed and roiled

All whilst a sense of doom has mounted.

 

For all pervasive is its yellow glare;

And even in the night, the far horizon glimmers

With dismal rays a-dancing there.

 

The Watcher shivers in the chill

Of the Autumn starwind crying across

The crest of Charnel Hill

 

Carefully he burns his lamp

For the warmth, rather than the light–

And in the desert makes his camp.

 

O, vengeful Abbott of the Abyss!

Wherefore display this cosmic spectacle

If only to shatter unto nothingness?

 

(more…)

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I know a guy who’s charismatic as can be:

Everyone he meets is sure that he’s all right.

The kind of guy that they all would like to be

Is exactly what he is–at least, upon first sight.

When he’s among conservatives,

He seems like a regular Reaganite.

But when among the liberals he lives

He looks for social revolutions to ignite.

 

CHORUS:

Oh, everybody loves a charismatic guy, you see;

He’s everything that you could want a chap to be!

His political skills are really quite sublime;

He fools all of the people all the time!

 

With the fellas, he’s a manly man’s man;

Drinkin’ beer and talkin’ sports and trucks to ride–

But when he’s with the ladies, oh, for sure he can

Get in touch with his female side.

When he’s discussed ‘twixt hims and hers–

Though on specifics they may disagree–

Everyone on both sides readily concurs:

“He’s just the kind of man for me!”

 

(CHORUS)

 

So, no one knows exactly what his deal is–

His convictions and beliefs are a bit unclear.

But still, there’s no denying his appeal is

So overwhelming he just has to be sincere!

I once spoke to him, hoping to convey

How nice to have these diff’rent personae.

And he replied “It’s just that I can never say

For sure which one of them is me!”

 

(CHORUS)

 

[NOTE: You may ask “is this about a particular person?” Answer: No. It’s about a particular type of person.]