Parallel Worlds
In Austria, there was a fella
Who kept his daughter in a cellar,
He raped her every now and then
Until the family grew to ten.
A film was found of him at play
In bathers, down beside the bay
The tabloids, bless their heads of straw
Arose with one collective roar:
“How can a monster be having fun
At the beach, out in the sun?
How can he sleep, how can he laugh,
When he’s done such dreadful stuff?”
The truth is really quick to tell
We all run our lives in parallel
There is the ‘us’ the public sees
And then the rest, behind the scenes.
There is the priest, whom God employs,
Who lusts at night for choir boys.
Or the quiet guy on committees,
Who has two wives in different cities.
And the account who, with such skill,
Balances books while fingering the till.
And, as strange as this may sound,
I’m told that Hitler loved his hound.
The other side is sometimes brighter
The daytime clerk: a night-time writer.
The housewife who delivers meals
And the traffic warden who rescues seals.
When you meet with someone new
Stop and think a moment or two.
It’s easy to take the single perspective
When, in fact, they are a collective.
---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---
Print this post
In Austria, there was a fella
Who kept his daughter in a cellar,
He raped her every now and then
Until the family grew to ten.
A film was found of him at play
In bathers, down beside the bay
The tabloids, bless their heads of straw
Arose with one collective roar:
“How can a monster be having fun
At the beach, out in the sun?
How can he sleep, how can he laugh,
When he’s done such dreadful stuff?”
The truth is really quick to tell
We all run our lives in parallel
There is the ‘us’ the public sees
And then the rest, behind the scenes.
There is the priest, whom God employs,
Who lusts at night for choir boys.
Or the quiet guy on committees,
Who has two wives in different cities.
And the account who, with such skill,
Balances books while fingering the till.
And, as strange as this may sound,
I’m told that Hitler loved his hound.
The other side is sometimes brighter
The daytime clerk: a night-time writer.
The housewife who delivers meals
And the traffic warden who rescues seals.
When you meet with someone new
Stop and think a moment or two.
It’s easy to take the single perspective
When, in fact, they are a collective.
---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---
Wow... I hope I'm one on the brighter side. Great stuff... as usual!
ReplyDeleteExcellent, poem,, both sides of the yin and yang, its unavoidable!
ReplyDeleteAh, we've passed a vote here and, as the elected representative of the Lee Kennedy Body Corporate, I am requested to tell you that we agree.
ReplyDeleteMark Twain said "Everyone is a moon and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody."
ReplyDeleteYou said it, but with rhyme and a few more words.
how so very true ..
ReplyDeleteeverybody has a flip side ..
or multiple sides ..
a fine poetic round up of disturbing stories...and a redemptive flip side at the end. nicely done!
ReplyDeleteI'm back from vacation and working my way down your blog to get to "Ode To A Plughole," which I was overjoyed and thrilled to have "inspired." But I had to pause and comment on this poem as I just found it so thought-provoking and interesting!
ReplyDelete