Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Doctor's Serenade

Valentine's Day is behind us, but that doesn't mean its too late for a love poem.  After all, love is forever.  So here's some romance, monster style.

Doctor's Serenade

Peculiar things happened to me
on my way to loving you.

I leaned against a crumbling wall, staring at the moon.
I looked around and realized how I was missing you.
There is no life without your love.
I know this to be true.
So I jumped the wall and ran to town, searching
My love
For you.

Things got weird after that.  Any other guy could have just taken a stroll.
Oh, peculiar things happened to me
on my way to loving you.

Townspeople were not glad to see my ever frozen smile
They loosed the hounds and gave me chase for miles
and miles and miles
Why the fuss?  Why must they our special love defile?

You hold my heart in your hands.
I vowed nothing would stop me
on my way to loving you.

They think you mad!  I heard them say you bring the dead to life.
Me, I think you're cute when you are playing with a knife.
Let them say you're mad! I know that you suffer genius' strife.

You call it what?  A scalpel?

That doesn't rhyme with much. 
Let me see...the pope wasn't involved, not even a little bit.  No rhyme there.
No one threw an apple.  The townspeople had pitchforks and torches; nothing that rhymes with scalpel.

So many torches lit the path
I ran to loving you.

They chased me round and round the tower
Torches burning bright
The townspeople seemed intent on setting me a light!
I punched my way through bricked-up door, longing for the sight...

Of the woman who knows me inside and out.
Oh, I am all a flame
from the race to loving you.

My darling, it has been too long since I looked in your eyes,
And since I heard your sweet, loving, clinical sighs
But now is no time to declare my arms were attached too high.

Really, they're fine.  I like them there.  Stop it; I need those!  The townspeople are coming.
My love, she who holds my heart, we must prepare to...wait a minute.
That's not my heart in your hands.  That's my spleen.
Why are you holding my spleen?