A Remarkable Tale from the Land of Podd

The event kernel that triggered this poem was nothing like what you read here per se, yet upon reflecting on what occurred this poem popped into my head almost as a whole piece. A number of my poems have happened that way.

The occasion was a training video that I had written and was producing. There was a need at one point for someone to demonstrate the application of the product. The manager, however, did not want her hands on camera and declined doing the demo, which involved rolling out a piece of film to adhere on a surface. Because she would not do it, all of her subordinates also declined when asked to show how the process is done. Only their hands would show, I reiterated. They each made excuses and it appeared that we were going to be stuck. But then the director did it for us, even though he had a mild palsy which he had to go to great lengths to conceal during this shot which focused on his hands.

Needless to say, the project was saved in the end. Once we go the shot we could exclaim those magic words of the film business, "It's a wrap." And now...

A Remarkable Tale from the Land of Podd

In a faraway land, in the Land of Podd,
folks felt themselves each just a little bit odd.
Why in fact, not a few,
not even a dozen,
and not just a sister or uncle or cousin...
'Twas the entire country caught under this spell,
each believed only others were anything swell,
and each felt discouraged, just a smidge, by his lot,
and this is what happened, believe it or not.

It had been a bad year, and in addition to famine
there were enemy troops on the borders of Salmon,
their unfriendly neighbors near the Mountain of Yore
and the King was near certain that his land was done for.

So he needed a messenger to save their lands
and he sought out a hero from the kingdom's bands.
But each made excuses, for this and for that,
One said, "My hair's funny,"
and "I can't wear a hat."
A second, who resisted, said his nose was too fat!

The king tried reason, and he also tried terror,
but quickly realized that the latter's an error,
so he promptly decided to appeal to God,
'cause these were strange people, these people of Podd,
for nothing was wrong... though each thought he was odd.

The king finally saw, although quite peculiar,
that the land would be lost -- including their ruler! --
if he couldn't find someone to carry out this task,
but there seemed no one else in his land left to ask.

Yet the Kingdom was saved, it turned out in the end,
all because the king knew that to save his own skin
he would have to step down from his throne, to the street,
and even though he didn't like his own feet,
he became a great leader by hiding it inside,
and he ran 'cross the hills to the far other side
to bring back an army or some kind of troop,
to finish forever this enemy poop.

I guess that is why some are kings, some are not,
We're really all the same, and we're all that we've got.

copyright 1996 ed newman
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