“So You Want to See King Kong”

“So You Want to See King Kong”

So you want to see King Kong duke
It out with bi-planes and kamikaze pilots
In a blaze of satisfaction for the zealots
Or the proposition that motivates the fluke
That holds its own and centre stage, the chorus moot
And so’s the audience, by the way connecting dots
And pulling all Pinocchio’s strings until they’re taut
With hearts and diamonds opening following suite.
But yes, of course, spades and clubs the poet’s corner
With a Mercedes straining at the hectare’s plough,
Leaving all the world to wonder just what’s a luxury for
And how the fields end and highway’ mourners’
Thumbs have disappeared on the horizon of the here and now.

2 responses to ““So You Want to See King Kong”

  1. I felt pain and utter sadness at King Kong’s ending, and I try so hard to see some films as a form of entertainment, enough so my scope seems to be shrinking and I’m leaning towards Magic and Fantasy, Harry Potter -wise.. .I suppose it started when a child, how I felt on leaving a cinema, high as a kite on emotion, feeling as if anything were possible, then dropping down to earth with a bump on realising nothing had changed in reality. BUT I suppose I was wrong, slowly inside something does change when viewing the silver screen, (or any screen, TV, PC, ) your perspective shifts, can’t help it really… A bit like overdosing on ‘blood and guts’ action films, .. and then when the real thing is shown on the news you’ve become just a tad acclimatised, or do I mean, desensitised? … whichever is right, this is what came to mind on reading your poem… xPenx….

    • Pen: Not a day goes by when I have not felt that “something” inside me that sorrows for the oppressed whether in life as I experience it first hand or vicariously have it delivered to my door; tears always follow. While this is still true, I know I am alive. How well I remember that feeling of being in a theatre and seeing a movie coupled with that strange feeling immediately afterward of landing right back where I started on leaving the theatre, the odd sensation of having witnessed what should be life’s experiences portrayed on the screen against the almost startling return to what seemed totally lacking of the same in life. Peggy Lee’s Is That All There Is comes to mind. Looking back on it now, I wonder that I had no clear notion of the “realities” of either fiction or fact and of course, absolutely no one could explain to me why it was that such beauty was so openly shown to me in film and in books when it seemed that every single soul declared as openly that it was a “tissue of lies” and that it was “only a story.” So, what was I supposed to be getting out of being allowed those fantasies and then immediately warned that there was nothing of any practical value there at all. It is just the opposite now at this point in my life?

      Whether poetry or novels, film or music, nothing, it seems, that I see practiced in life every day is as “real” and lasting in its effects as what is so easily obtained through the arts. There are dangers in immersing oneself in vicarious knowledge and experience, of course, but having said that, it seems to me that being moved to empathy and sympathy for others and knowing that all of us is in this thing together while we live is of infinitely greater value than the catalogue of practical values so many seem to be saying is the “stuff of life.” In short, while I know that the mind is what it is, still, the heart is also what it is and so, yes, I allow myself the luxury of unabashed romanticism, idealism, empathy or whatever it is that transcends the limitations of this world and can remind me that to glory in life is not to live here on this planet through the ticking of the metres and clocks, the deepening of wrinkles, and the never-ending doctors’ appointments and facing up to this reality but rather that everything of beauty in the arts and sciences is a firm reminder of the beauty of Him Who created me and everything I apparently see in creation, and if I weep within this world, ‘tis that I may not die laughing at any and every thing I see while I breathe.

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