Scapegoat [Part One]

He fears…

that point when the telly has nothing left to offer

but mindless chatter for the half-witted;

submitting to the power of the red button

shutting down the on-screen world,

leaving him alone with himself and the prospect of bed.

 

Sleep brings dreams.

 

In his dreams

like a kid let loose in a sweet shop

he’s chasing after

sugar and spice and all things nice

reckless

grabbing

thrusting rock-hard candy into gap-toothed mouths

while skipping ropes pluck at forbidden grounds

 

and he’s

King of the Castle

King of the Jungle

wading through rushes and creepers and netball skirt pleats

the white rabbit

tumbling down the hole

after Alice

in the dark

calling “Let me be your friend”

 

whiplash

lands him in strip-tease Las Vegas

where Alice makes a re-appearance

flipped on her back from the top deck

and he reaches out but finds himself

buried up to the neck in gambling debts

by disdainful royals brandishing clubs and spades

 

then the garden

always the same:

the owner of a small hand leading the way

down shimmering path into the evergreen rockery;

kneeling beside the ornamental birdbath

where he lays an unresisting form in dewy grass

bordered by tiny ladybird parades

 

[f*****g women who shrink into babies who melt into dolls whose faces crumble like brittle skulls long-dead in some field of horror…a single accusatory eye staring through him into a celibate future]

 

alarm trumpeting disruption

OFF. WITH. HIS. HEAD. OFF. WITH. HIS. HEAD.

strange worlds shatter into harsher reality

on the coattails of disturbing imagery

which he succumbs to bleakly...

 

Author's Note

if you liked this, please read Parts Two and Three, as they explain further. Thanks.

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

this one is definitely multifaceted - at least that is what I get from it...love the references to Alice throughout the poem...the language is strong - visceral - very much like a nightmare experience - full sound and color - this one spills down the page wonderfully.

[Paul]

Documentation
4/5/18
7:32 PM U.S. CST
"Scapegoat [Part 1] by Reaf C. Boylan, a Fellow Writer's Cafe Author"
by PB Jacobs (www.writerscafe.org)

Hey!

I love the attention to everyday life and style you put into this on a feid and affective level! You capture the mood of a typical remote control couch potato perfectly, in term's of The Mascot Personality Type. Great job, as this is how a lot of people are, and it's all because of idiot marketer's who refuse to put down their lucrative-insanity-based welfare fantasies and tip their hat's to humanity, and real justice, as opposed to retail insanity, and the warped justice that comes from it!

Great Job! I love your production standards of excellence!

PB Jacobs

[Wulfstan Crumble]

"A philosophical treatise by the name of "Fall of Man" combined with a trip happy splodge of Alice In Wonderland"

This one has depth, sly humour, neat digs, verve and a whole skip load of imagination. It feels like a what if moment...what is Neo in The Matrix had a single ounce of personality, not an ounce of magic mushrooms, but, say, some character and he thought about the actual prospects post pill popping...red button, TV off and time for a trippy theme tune by Underworld.
I liked the delicious irony of the first stanza...what if. It is like saying what if Hitler decided to murder all the Jews or what if America had needlessly atomic bombed Japan? The usefulness factor of Modern TV is close to zero. So close some of my students get higher grades in their english tests.
In the modern world, of grey, of parks receeding faster than my hairline, all we have is our imaginations...

Even better when fueled by good poems like this one.

[Donald Meikle]

One scary deranged hole you have led me into dark as I ever want to touch. Lewis Carol had fun and kids loved it
This kinda fun is nay me cuppa char.

[Jenny Davis]

This is so "outside of the box!" I really liked the style in this piece and the abstract verses, it was like reading a piece of art...do continue with this...it's really good.

[A.L. James]

It is not my favorite of your poetry. The others were better. you need to put a mature audience tag on this one sir.

[Roy Jacobs]

Oh man that was a really good piece. Man that was very good how you equated the "Alice in Wonderland" theme with the current world situation the way it is. I too can't stand what you mentioned above, it is easier to control chicken littles than brave bulls. I really can't see anything wrong with this poem, it gets it's point across very well, it has a nice flow and it has mulitple layers of meaning. Good job.

[Angelheaded Hipster]

Ok. It's official. I am envious....bordering on jealousy....I love love love this. Anything dealing with whiplash crazy dreams, and Alice....man....

This kicks a*s all the way through....and maybe it's just me.....but I was picking up on sexualized tension in the under tow....

going straight to faves....

[G. Cedillo]

i don't know if the use of common turns of phrase and even sing-song rhymes - like "Sugar and Spice and everything nice" was done intentionally but it works here - it helps add another dimension to your free-fall nightmare-scape through youth, awkwardness, maturity, love, and bitterness- -- all very well paced and timed. Though it is alarmingly sad...
the crux lies here i think, brilliant conscious rap/rant:
"f*****g women who shrink into babies who melt into dolls whose faces crumble like brittle skulls long-dead in some field of horror�a single accusatory eye staring through him into a celibate future"

i dig this,
~~ g .

[lostintheworld]

I'm loving his dream in the midst of the telly comments...
it reminds me of
Coleridge's Kubla Kahn

a pleasure dome
complete with Alice
and women wailing to their demon lovers...
in a long dead field of horror...

and then i wonder if in some way you are commenting on the fact that we need to rebuild a new palace/world, free from the media sensationalism and mob mentality that plagues us...

and seriously...you can think i'm crazy all you want
but damn i just see this as so reminscent of Coleridge
Your poem really is genius...

so in Kubla Kahn it is rumored that the poem started as a dream nad then after awhile he bagna writing ferociaoulsy trying to capture it all...but then some dude interrupted him in the midst of relating it all to paper... Some dude named Porlock. ANd so when the conclusion was finally written you have to wonder what was altered from the dream state....and I say all this to say that the person from Porlock has become a metaphor for the malicious interruptions the world throws in the way of inspiration and genius....and so i noticed your comment about writing part three and it's just interesting to me...
cause it's like porlock has interrupted your dream for the completion of this poem...

and right now, i wish i had some opium
cause then maybe
i wouldn't think i was crazy for writing all of this...hahah

[eli mercuree rue]

hmm

imust start with the part i thought was the most important because
its still f*****g with my head
like old men on railroad tracks
walking straight into the shining light
100 feet away not making a sound
can barely hear them breathing
as they begin to stumble to their
death throwing
the bottle of crown royal to the side
submitting their bodies to the cold
hard clash of the steel coming 80 mph
towards them
horn blowing...
3 seconds
2
1
lights out
and like that they are wiped away from
our memory cause all they ever were
to us was that thing
takin our moey from taxes
f*****g b*****d
we
all mumble
f*****g b*****d

so this passage im talking bout is

[f*****g women who shrink into babies who melt into dolls whose faces crumble like brittle skulls long-dead in some field of horror�a single accusatory eye staring through him into a celibate future]

yes dude thas like the battle of evolution
but in reverse
he's done those things he's fucked the woman the child the baby[doll] and they were all meaningless they all will be either because of mob mentallity or because women have fucked him over so he wants to do the same or possibly im wrong
but they are saying
off with his head
off with his f*****g head
hes done wrong
theyve done wrong
we are the epitome of our own destruction
monsters
in our own
intuitive thoughts
we
are
what we
are
and never wanted to be
"succumbing bleakly"
to what others want what others need "what mamma say, ima do"


the garden to me in his dream represents this peice of serenity he seeks
he
wants out on something
and im not sure if thats life or just his current situations

the whiplash scene again shows his failure
regrets
and in a sense his depression

king of the castle stansa
hmm
hes in need of compassion but also dominance
a way to rule his own life
reach success

candy store
hmm did he miss out from mafia affiliation
did he have a kid who died and his remebering
what it was like when he was a kid because of that

hmm first stansa hes worried about being let go where he will go and how he will succeed after all hes known his entire life was what he is now
hes stuck making a decision where either choice could get him killed

argh boylan im i on the right page
you gots ter let me kno
lol

later