Ozzy Ozzy Opium Poem

Ozzy Ozzy Opium Poem
By,
Z. S.


Let me relate this story
Boldly in allegory
Words rendered in pressured measures
Of analogy
Be sure to see between the letters
As you envision and listen to the words I speak
About a girl named Dorothy
Before you leave, please
It’s not the story you think, wait
It’s not the same train
With spots of gumdrops and all wrapped in candy canes
It’s terrain is subtly dark
Like a vein scarred by tar
And the traced shapes of track marks

We’ll start the pace with a hurricane
Like the opposite embodiment of gods grace
It laid waste and reshaped the whole place
Dropping Dorothy in a strange time and a strange space
Unsure if she was awake
Dorothy licked her lips and noticed a strange taste
Placed upon the breeze, shapes
Draped with a sweet escape
She knew she should be afraid
Wait, stand in place
Find the name claimed by
This strange landscape

But she felt a weight in her face
As listless she felt her lips twist
Into a smile like shape
Her limbs began to drift as they seemed to inflate
With an elated mandate staked straight in her brain
Like an animate advocate to acclimate and stay

The burned taste began to congregate
In waves as she began to consummate
A love affair for her lungs to circulate
Unaware it was a narcotic condensate

A calculating fiend
Meant to captivate her ability to think
So it can infiltrate behind the face
Lined in lies like a benign claim
In a way that’s Utopian but fake
Because she was in Oz with the opium in her veins

For a time Dorthy let her worry sleep
Curled and snoring deep with her uncertainty
She began her journey, see
Down a road composed of
Rows of secret things
That rose between the flowing sleep
Of the Poppy Sea
And the ring that clings to the need
Of a single heartbeat
Caught trembling unseen
And tenuously

The deep part of her Identity
Lamentably admitted the necessity
That she had to leave eventually
So she looked around expectantly
Innocently thinking if she’s lucky
This place might just have an embassy
Relevantly tucked among the resplendency
Respectfully like the senselessly contrived
Writhing scene of a benevolently wise serenity
But see this was not meant to be
Because she was in Oz
A place the devil made then forgot reverently
Comprised of lies in ascendancy

Dorothy continued on mellow and quick
A song in her throat
When her eyes sighed wide in surprise at the sight
Of a life wrapped in rope
Tied, crucified and left to die right beside
The Yellow Brick Road
She covered her mouth with her hand
As she approached
When she saw that it was a man
In the shape of a Scarecrow

She slowed to stand before the straw man
And said
“Hello”
“Mam”
“Am I wrong or are you a Scarecrow?”
“If I rose so, then I suppose so”
“What an odd claim from one raised to roast
Left behind
Displayed in such shame then left to die
The slow gaze of the sun like a nuclear rain
Wrapped in enough rope to choke Ouroboros
Aren’t you in pain?”

“Oh, no
For that I’d need a brain
Of which mine I was obliged
To trade away
But for what I cannot place
Wait, I should pause
For without my brain
Even in Oz I am no longer the same”

“Scarecrow I need to go home
If I loose the abuse of your rope
Will you expose the safest road?”

The Scarecrow looked at her slow
Waiting for the punchline to the joke
Then he said
“I am no Cicero
My tongue is hard to listen to
Like a deaf puppet show
On the radio played by a Christmas tune
I am so dumb that
I need a compass
To find my stomach
Straw legs and no crutch
I’m a broke duck wrapped in another slugs
Throw rug
But
You must know…
You’re in a sideshow on Calypso
Where dope grows in rows at the
End of the Rainbow
And there’s only two directions to ever go
Front or Back
Down the Yellow Brick Road”

“Oh no”
A tear rose welled then fell slow
“Scarecrow, is there no hope
Somewhere we can go
Someone who can show me another road home?”

“Well miss,
If you untie my wrists
There is the Wizard
With his power and his tricks”

This brought a dappled upward turn
Like a red bow in a twist
To the corners of Dorothy's candied apple lips
“Oh yay!”
She said as happy shapes
Traipsed across the angels of her face
“Let’s refrain delay, move and make way
In haste straight to the Wizard’s domain
Explain that we need to obtain a means of escape for me
And for you a brain!”

“Soft, Wait
The herald of the emerald estate
Can be terrible and is quite insane
Maybe you should think for a moment
For the both of us
The tricks he lends are not omnipotent
Or honest or common, right
So I doubt he’ll be like
Poor us here toss him
My extra Corpus Callosum
What if it’s rotten
Or taken and not boughten
However I suppose we shouldn't get caught in
A waste of time because
I may not have a mind
But i do still have eyes
And I can see by the sheen on your face
And the swoon of your lungs
Your veins have begun to run with Oz’s opium”

Fumbling with minimal tumbling like a militaster
Watching Dorothy try to master the thrumming
Of Caspers shattered laughter
The Strawman was helped to stand
With the grace of a battered witticaster
Bowed time sped then ticked slow
As a pair of strange bedfellows
Made their way down the
Yellow Brick Road
Through the Poppy Sea wreathed
In an ancestral red glow
Like trudging over the sweet sheet
To the other side of a campestral rainbow
Until over a low rise
A metal statue dully shone
Against the background croak
Of a yellow and sick toad
Dorothy gasped in surprise
For inside the statue
Were wide living eyes
The outside of the Tin Man
Seemingly rusted with time

Dorothy took a few steps closer
First one then two
As she mused
“Who are you?”

Suddenly a whisper passed
As thin tin lips cracked
Parted then started to move

“I am a banned and scarred Spartan
My motion frozen for drawing lines
In the sand of my own tarred garden
Please, I beg your pardon
I don’t get to speak very often,”
His voice was hard and solemn
But his words shone with a weight
That made his tone seem to soften
Well beyond the point of caution
Dorothy asked

“What is the name you hide inside
That sandy grin?”

“Well mam, in this land of sin
I am called not
But the Man of Tin,”

“And what sin has you frozen
Standing as a living statue
Alone for the edges of time
And his moonlight to catch you?”

“I have no beating parts miss
You see, for I am heartless
I no longer feel the knife twist
The sharp shards that cut the
Secret parts of your soul when it’s dark miss
I no longer feel the smirk quirked
By heavens monarch as he cuts
With his carving fork.

"With a harnessed hardness
I cut out my heart miss
And I departed that harlots carcass,
Washed my hands of scarlet
In a darkness so deep and starless
Then like an honest artist
I started my creation
Of this golem wardress.

"However, for long I confess
I have been dispossessed
Of that which allows me any finess
Or the slightest success
With even the tiniest jest
Of spacial progress.
Would you please miss acquiesce
To relieve me of my distress?

"The black oil coiled
Like the brand of my toil
There in the oiling can
Buried in the soil.
Take it and press its harm score
Into the recess of my arm or
Never again will I be able to move
Trapped by my own armor,”

Dorothy paused and thought
But she wasn’t silent for long
“Happily I will help you
But this numbing pain you bought
Perhaps it’s not a lost cause
For the Scarecrow and I are off
To see the Wizard of Oz
Come with us I’m past
Questions of parts or
The arguments of Descartes

"Perhaps you can shed the tin self
And you can feel again if
The Wizard can impart
A heart through the scarred skin shell
Maybe then you might find
You want to try a new style of decor
Other than the cold armor
Like a specially nestled kennel
That looks like
It was designed by carceral apparel,”
The Tin Man nodded
Strangely comfortable
With maybe feeling again
He remembered painful
But couldn’t remember the
The color or the shape of wonderful

Dorothy uncovered the slim can
And began to bust loose
The crust of rust covering the Tin Man
Finally, flexing and no longer forced to stand
He looked at her
Aware of a gentle something
And said
“Thank you mam,”
Dorothy nodded just as a drop
Of oil fell from the can
Covering the veins over
Dorothys hand

She felt the familiar weight
In her face take
She felt a subtle ache slake
A soft quake
A shake felt after its break
The tensions canvas only awake
In its sudden absence
As she moved her hand in closer
Just for a taste

Both the Tin and the Straw Man slipped
Their fingers around her wrist
To halt her haste
She heard them speak
But was unaware from which the words came

“No! Wait,
You can still be saved
You can still escape.
Don’t touch miss
It’s just lust tricks
Trust this
Don’t listen to the slicked tip
Of that Wicked Witch,”

Dorothy twitched as
Her tongue slicked her lips
It wasn’t supposed to be
As hard as this
It wasn’t fair
The whole song was a con
A pigeon drop
Home or this
The bait and the switch

“Look at your lips fluttering
Tongue strung and stuttering
Wanting just a touch to brush
The dust, to crush it plus
Come with us
That’s the crux
What’s done is done
Oz’s ruse is inside of you
There is no way back
The only way out is through

"If you soften
And offer the oxygen
If you blow the fire you desire
To the ozzy tune
Of the abuse in the spoon
Filled with the water of a forgotten
Daughter lost in tales of cotton
If you fill the box then
Feed the rising within
It will weasel the needle up
Under your skin
As the claws of oz maw
With their spots of sin
Your only license is
To push on with the song
And find an end
If you ever wish to go home again

"The only other options are
Either you subside to the rise inside
Offer your life and die
Or become lost in a vision
Of fictional truth, a prison
One constructed without, and within
Please, listen

"What’s done is done
It’s inside of you
There is no way back
The passage of time is true
The only way out now is through
But you’re not alone
We’ll skip down this road and atone
And if this watery delve has no bottom
With us but a stone
If instead we find hell
At the end of the Yellow Brick Road,
Well…
The passage of time is always true
You helped us
So at least now
You have us too,”