Tag: poetry

An Account of a Visit from a Magical Girl

Featured image: “Mahou Shoujo Madoka☆Magica Magical Girl Madoka Magica #900086” by SubaruSumeragi.

I think it’s time to bring back this classic. Merry magical-girl Christmas to all!

’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the town,
Lots of girls were a-stirring, to beat monsters down.
So they stalked all the baddies that threatened mankind,
For to blast them with magic and kick their behinds.

They crouched in the dark by the chimneys with care,
Or slipped across rooftops—villains beware!
One might wear a kerchief, and one has a cap,
But they all got short skirts, what you think about that?

Then at City Hall, there arose such a clatter,
That Plum Fairy Lyssa soon checked out the matter.
A monster showed up with a roar and a flash,
So Lyssa transformed and got ready to bash!

When what to her wondering eyes should appear,
But a slavering, fanged, and bloodthirsty deer?
’Twas Rudolph! Whose terrible, powerful nose,
Had at last warped his mind with its horrid bright glow!

Our Lyssa, however, so eager to brawl,
Quick leapt like a gymnast atop of a wall.
“Stop there, evil monster!” she said with a scoff,
“You’ve attacked us on Christmas, and that ticks me off!”

The Moon Princess blest her with power and might,
That she might be quick to kick butt in a fight,
To halt evil crooks in the midst of a crime,
Or to battle vile creatures beyond space and time!

Now punch him, now bludgeon! Now blast him with pow’r!
And yet his eyes glowed with a menacing glow’r!
Now kick him, now stab him, now strangle and blitz ’im!
That deer is no match for this young doe-eyed vixen!

At last Rudolph gasped and lay dead at her feet,
As his bright ruby blood ran out into the street.
“I’ve vanquished the creature,” the Plum Fairy mused,
“But why then do I feel as if I still should lose?”

In leapt Marionette, the famed robot girl,
With her magical pencil, which she gave a twirl.
“Young Lyssa, my dear, you have fought well and brave,
But killed poor Rudolph, whom you know you should save.”

“Well, no one has once taught me any of that,”
Said Lyssa, perplexed. (On the ground she now spat.)
“To fight off the monsters that threaten our world,
Is the constant hard job of a magical girl!”

“We fight for mankind, that is certainly true,”
Said Marionette, whose cold fingers turned blue.
“But always remember that we serve the Light—
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a clean fight!”

I Drink

This is an excerpt from one of my favorite “poems.” I put that in quotation marks because I discovered, after the fact, that these are actually song lyrics. They are probably under copyright, so I quote only in part:

I drink to drive away all the years I have hated,
The ambitions frustrated that no longer survive.
I drink day after day to the chaos behind me,
Yes, I drink to remind me that I still am alive.

So I give you a toast to the endless confusions,
To the lies and delusions that have swallowed my life.
Yes, I give you a toast to the wine and the roses,
To the deadly cirrhosis that can cut like a knife.

…

For the children unborn, for their dead, phantom faces,
For our sterile embraces in the tomb of your bed.
I drink, and I mourn for the harvest that failed,
For the ship that has sailed, for the hope that is dead.

…

Yes, I drink till I burst in my own degradation,
To the edge of damnation that is waiting below.
Yes, I drink with a thirst that destroys and depraves me
And cuffs and enslaves me, and will never let go.

To me, these lyrics are so stark, so raw, that they deserve to be read in a muted tone, surrounded by dead silence. I was shocked not only to learn that they come from a song, but also that the song sounds … well, in my opinion, too upbeat. The song is by Charles Aznavour, a Frenchman who had mastered several languages and produced a wide range of music. He also has a great voice and clearly writes pretty good poetry in English.

Here he is:

With all due respect, I just don’t find that crushing enough. The music and the voice are too beautiful for the ugly content. These lyrics, by themselves, are one of the poems I turn to from time to time for catharsis, but the song, I admit, I don’t care for. Of course, my knowledge of music is limited, so there may be something here I’m missing.

A Visit from a Magical Girl (revised)

A poem

The previous version of this was doggerel I whipped out in about ten minutes, but this version (with some fudging) uses the anapestic tetrameter of the original.

T’was the night before Christmas, when all through the town,
Lots of girls were a-stirring, to beat monsters down.
So they stalked all the baddies that threatened mankind,
For to blast them with magic and kick their behinds.

They crouched in the dark by the chimneys with care,
Or slipped across rooftops—villains beware!
One might wear a kerchief, and one has a cap,
But they all got short skirts, what you think about that?

Then at City Hall, there arose such a clatter,
That Plum Fairy Lyssa soon checked out the matter.
A monster showed up with a roar and a flash,
So Lyssa transformed and got ready to bash!

When what to her wondering eyes should appear,
But a slavering, fanged, and bloodthirsty deer?
T’was Rudolph! Whose terrible, powerful nose,
Had at last warped his mind with its horrid bright glow!

Our Lyssa, however, so eager to brawl,
Quick leapt like a gymnast atop of a wall.
“Stop there, evil monster!” she said with a scoff,
“You’ve attacked us on Christmas, and that ticks me off!”

The Moon Princess blest her with power and might,
That she might be quick to kick butt in a fight,
To halt evil crooks in the midst of a crime,
Or to battle vile creatures beyond space and time!

Now punch him, now bludgeon! Now blast him with pow’r!
And yet his eyes glowed with a menacing glow’r!
Now kick him, now stab him, now strangle and blitz ’im!
That deer is no match for this young doe-eyed vixen!

At last Rudolph gasped and lay dead at her feet,
As his bright ruby blood ran out into the street.
“I’ve vanquished the creature,” the Plum Fairy mused,
“But why then do I feel as if I still should lose?”

In leapt Marionette, the famed robot girl,
With her magical pencil, which she gave a twirl.
“Young Lyssa, my dear, you have fought well and brave,
But killed poor Rudolph, whom you know you should save.”

“Well, no one has once taught me any of that,”
Said Lyssa, perplexed. (On the ground she now spat.)
“To fight off the monsters that threaten our world,
Is the constant hard job of a magical girl!”

“We fight for mankind, that is certainly true,”
Said Marionette, whose cold fingers turned blue.
“But always remember that we serve the Light—
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a clean fight!”