The Tale of Pablo Poe
Introductory Stanzas
—1—
A rogue by nature, fiendish in his ways,
He claims the world’s his oyster — May well be,
But sycophant describes his crude displays,
And what he thinks is not what others see.
His life is such, to wile away the days
In leisure, irresponsible and free —
Larking or concocting here and there,
This mischief-maker idle, not a care.
—2—
His little secrets whispered in the night,
The likes that no-one hears, (but only he),
Though without malice, doesn’t make them right,
No feigned pretense or heartfelt sympathy
Would dare to cross his furrowed brow despite
The havoc he may cause for you and me.
Pernicious he may be, but here’s the truth;
The indiscretions of an idle youth.
—3—
Throw caution to the winds! The saying goes,
But with this act, a carelessness may rise.
And of the final act? Well — no-one knows
Until the flame is held before our eyes —
A flickering flame! and apprehension grows;
But what of it? The truth in harbored lies?
To take the chance is all that we can do:
Be honest to yourself, to self be true.
—4—
Yet honesty is not a simple thing,
Though many know its motives to be true —
Religion’s bells the pious often ring,
But outside sacristies, the devils do
Whatever they like and in their mirth they sing
A happy tune of love and skies of blue!
O’ let the fiends have fun! — We hear them croon.
Though harmless, what is not, will come quite soon.
—5—
What of this guy? A gentleman or lout,
Who always dons the smile of friendship first
With little knowledge what it’s all about,
Though popularity would quench his thirst!
No other motive? Nay, there is no doubt
Of self-importance. Ego leaves him cursed!
But what of words? Some moving, some sublime —
Originality? He’s not the time!
—6—
If ever there were stories to be thought
Of romance, courting ladies or a maid;
The proper disposition as one’s taught
To tarry not and never be waylaid
Else run the risk of justly being caught,
And through the murkiness of rumor wade.
But stories right or wrong, the truth beside —
The chances are the fiend has probably lied!
—7—
A joke perhaps? But say it isn’t so!
The voice that tends to laugh behind your back
In muffled tones so no-one else will know,
And quickly dissipate — avoid the flak
Of condescension, moving with the flow
Of crude absurdities or pointed crack!
But lo! If words were fired in their direction,
Be sure they would insist on some correction!
—8—
Yet who would act as such? To cast the blame
Upon an innocent and charming sprite.
And who? You ask — To offer up his name,
May seem a little forward, not quite right,
But then again, we too can play his game
Regardless of the name he’s called — That’s hight!
The man, his words are better known by some,
But of his works? Who knows what will become.
—9—
Now if we spare a glance across the vale,
A little house and even smaller room,
A figure sits, content to tell a tale
About his loveless life (a tale of gloom).
His ship has sunk before it set a sail,
And now he settles for impending doom.
But that is only one part of his life —
(No wonder he could never take a wife!)
—10—
So here we are, the prologue nearly done,
(An introduction by another name),
With little jeers and sneers all meant in fun,
No need to cast dispersion or to blame
A solitary figure, never one,
Will history some time recount his fame?
Read on my learnèd friend, read if you dare —
This tale may well be more than you can bear!
Note: These are the Introductory Stanzas in the form of ottava rima.