Dweisel Puterschmidt and His Unlawful Banshees
Fun fact: I was thinking about old school projects - poems I'd written for school, more specifically - and I I began toying with the idea of themed poems. Not an original idea, by any means, but one I ran with none-the-less. After a short questioning process, I had three subjects to write poems about: Oogie Boogie, rotten apples, and Dweisel Puterschmidt and His Unlawful Banshees. Needless to say, I had some fun with it, and would enjoy continuing writing poems based on what subjects are thrown at me. So the question is: Got any ideas?
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Dweisel P is a name, that no one speaks ‘round here.
It’s said that he’s an evil man, the epitome of fear.
But I don’t buy into those tales, and I will tell you why.
Because, Mr. Puterschmidt, just happens, to be I.
The story goes that I set out on a dangerous trek,
Now that’s not true, I can tell you, the stories all a wreck.
But, I suppose it really doesn’t matter if it’s true,
I’ll tell the tale, and as we go, the facts I will add too.
One night when I was walking, I heard a little yelp,
I paused and listened hard until I heard a cry for help.
In a flash, a true mad dash, I ran toward the small cries,
And then I heard a noise so loud that tears sprout from my eyes.
Now in the tale it says that I, went searchin’ for the sound
And sang a hoot and did a dance at the scene I’d found.
This again, is something far from what is real and factual,
So I’ll just say, there is no way I’d danced at what is actual.
What I found, just in the woods, right after the loud shriek,
Was not a human needing help, but a statue smooth and sleek.
I stood there for a while, just staring at the stone,
I had an inkling I should run, and just head straight for home.
In the woods, the statue stood, looking out of place.
I couldn’t move, I knew I should, because I knew its face.
The wrinkled brows, and frightened eyes, were not foreign to me,
My mouth agape, and mind ablank, I stared at Uncle P.
Now here is where my tale and theirs really start to differ,
The twist they make, just by mistake, is one that makes me bitter.
Later that night, I returned home, my mouth still opened wide,
Poor Uncle P, though he was mean, did not deserve to die.
I thought back on the day’s events and tasted sweet regret,
‘Cause Uncle P and vengeful me had fought over a bet.
“You cheated, you crooked old man, for that you’re gonna pay!”
I accused, outside the pub, the whole fight on display.
I wished, as I drifted to sleep, that I had let it go,
Those were my last words to Uncle P, which made me feel true woe.
I woke to loud pounding, and shouts from my front door.
And when I stumbled out of bed, I landed on the floor.
“Open your door!” I heard, before my face hit with a smack,
And instead of my “Hold on!” my scream’s what answered back.
It was my howl, I understand, that must’ve fueled the lies,
But I must say, that to this day, I never took a life.
Well, after that morning, the whole town kicked me out,
I begged and pleaded and then I asked what it was all about.
My old friend Jim, looked right at me, and stated with a frown.
“Dweisel P you’re dead to me as well as to the town.
Killing Unc P, was downright wrong, even if he was a cheat,
We want nothing to do with you or your band of Banshees.”
Now all I do and sit and wait, for fellas just like you.
Because I know, they’ll tell you lies, so I told you the truth.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dweisel P is a name, that no one speaks ‘round here.
It’s said that he’s an evil man, the epitome of fear.
But I don’t buy into those tales, and I will tell you why.
Because, Mr. Puterschmidt, just happens, to be I.
The story goes that I set out on a dangerous trek,
Now that’s not true, I can tell you, the stories all a wreck.
But, I suppose it really doesn’t matter if it’s true,
I’ll tell the tale, and as we go, the facts I will add too.
One night when I was walking, I heard a little yelp,
I paused and listened hard until I heard a cry for help.
In a flash, a true mad dash, I ran toward the small cries,
And then I heard a noise so loud that tears sprout from my eyes.
Now in the tale it says that I, went searchin’ for the sound
And sang a hoot and did a dance at the scene I’d found.
This again, is something far from what is real and factual,
So I’ll just say, there is no way I’d danced at what is actual.
What I found, just in the woods, right after the loud shriek,
Was not a human needing help, but a statue smooth and sleek.
I stood there for a while, just staring at the stone,
I had an inkling I should run, and just head straight for home.
In the woods, the statue stood, looking out of place.
I couldn’t move, I knew I should, because I knew its face.
The wrinkled brows, and frightened eyes, were not foreign to me,
My mouth agape, and mind ablank, I stared at Uncle P.
Now here is where my tale and theirs really start to differ,
The twist they make, just by mistake, is one that makes me bitter.
Later that night, I returned home, my mouth still opened wide,
Poor Uncle P, though he was mean, did not deserve to die.
I thought back on the day’s events and tasted sweet regret,
‘Cause Uncle P and vengeful me had fought over a bet.
“You cheated, you crooked old man, for that you’re gonna pay!”
I accused, outside the pub, the whole fight on display.
I wished, as I drifted to sleep, that I had let it go,
Those were my last words to Uncle P, which made me feel true woe.
I woke to loud pounding, and shouts from my front door.
And when I stumbled out of bed, I landed on the floor.
“Open your door!” I heard, before my face hit with a smack,
And instead of my “Hold on!” my scream’s what answered back.
It was my howl, I understand, that must’ve fueled the lies,
But I must say, that to this day, I never took a life.
Well, after that morning, the whole town kicked me out,
I begged and pleaded and then I asked what it was all about.
My old friend Jim, looked right at me, and stated with a frown.
“Dweisel P you’re dead to me as well as to the town.
Killing Unc P, was downright wrong, even if he was a cheat,
We want nothing to do with you or your band of Banshees.”
Now all I do and sit and wait, for fellas just like you.
Because I know, they’ll tell you lies, so I told you the truth.