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ALL’S WELL THAT ORSON WELLES
Out of the midwest he came, like a moth to the flame,
And like rains on the plain, his Citizen Kane,
Flushed the old down the drain, starting a new strain,
Etching his name in Hollywood’s fame.
And they adored him; they’d reward him,
But often times bored him
When setting their sails on rickety rails,
Or casting spells, or spinning tales
Of all’s well that Orson Welles.
And if my daddy knew, he never told
Cause he couldn’t be bought and he wouldn’t be sold.
He was out of the old mold, like molten gold,
Running hot and cooling cold, with a luster to behold.
And I love him; I hug him
I think highly of him
When setting my sails on rickety rails,
Or casting spells, or spinning tales
Of all’s well that Orson Welles
But the sands of time can cloud your mind,
Don’t look behind; don’t try to find
And don’t unwind, but improve your grind,
Age like wine and don’t blame time
But face it; embrace it
You know you can’t race it
When setting your sails on rickety rails,
Or casting spells, or spinning tales
Of all’s well that Orson Welles
So don’t get angry, don’t get blue,
There’s not a lot that you can do.
Maybe take some old; take some new, a screw or two,
A bit o’ luck, a little glue and hope that it will get you through,
Cause life is tough; man, it gets rough,
But you never seem to have enough
When setting your sails on rickety rails,
Or casting spells, or spinning tales
Of all’s well that Orson Welles
SpankyD
Style / type:
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity):
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction):
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
Editing stage:
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Comments
Ian.T
Fri, 2013-07-26 19:03
Spanky
Orson was a great man, and your tribute was excellent.
I remember him reading out the "War of the Worlds" in the late 40's where they were going to evacuate a town in the states because they believed it was real.
He did a lot of radio broadcasts, if I rem right he use to do the Black Museum or something along those lines about the implements that were used to kill people by murderers.
What a brilliant voice,
Thank you again for this write, Yours Ian.T
.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..
wesley snow
Sat, 2013-07-27 20:37
Sweet Mary, mother of God!
Poetry!
I mean... POETRY!
If I took the time to look and analyze... I could find a bunch of stuff that you could change to make this better.
But...
I'd much rather read it again.
The pace, the loose random rhyme, the concept!
I am blown away.
Welcome to NeoPoet, poet... I hope you stay and share a million of these.
Now I have to go and read this aloud to my wife. It's going to make her smile.
W. H. Snow
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley
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mand
Sun, 2013-07-28 09:06
Hi There Spanky
I agree with Wesley, This needs to be read more than once or the flavour will be lost. I loved the fast pace and the repeated lines at the end of each stanza - it had a musical feel. The rhyming structure was brill. So all in all I'd give it ten out of ten. Welcome to Neo!
Love Mand xxxx
Roscoe Lane
Sat, 2013-08-03 03:45
I was,
I was captured from start to finish, this is a very smart piece of writing. A heartfelt welcome to Neopoet, Regards Roscoe...
Roscoe Llane,
Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.
Kailashana2
Thu, 2013-08-15 17:21
You had me at the title.
You had me at the title. Then I thought o god,not another moth to flame, and rhyming no less.. However, you took me a a really cool ride. I so like when that happens.
~Anna