“Cosmic Revenge”

[“Willie the Demon Child, pt II”]…dedicated to those–unfortunately in the majority–who believe that punishment is more desirable than reformation…

Before reading, please see Pt. I:

“Wicked Willie–the Demon Child” pt. I

“Demonic Dummy”
So empty was wee Willie’s head,
He’d do whatever others said.
Mom screamed, “In traffic go and play,”
And Willie did it right away.

“Rollin'”
In a tire decided Will
To go rolling down a hill.
The story’s ending can’t be told
‘cuz no one knows to where he’s rolled.

“Rubber Band”
Will thought no game to be as grand
As pulling taut a rubber band.
‘Til back at him a band did fly
And left him with a useless eye.

“The Demon and the Serpent”
Will thought he’d grabbed a slimy stick
Until he felt a painful prick.
For Will had made the big mistake
Of picking up a rattle snake.

“Will Has a Blast”
When Little Will was nearly six,
His mother gave him nitro sticks.
He thought his games to be a blast,
But fun that hot can never last.

5 “Little Willie” poems by Paul Burgess. For background info on the Little Willie form–yes, it’s a form–please see the following post: https://paulwhitberg.wordpress.com/2014/05/17/little-willie-and-brats-poems/

“On the Futility of Anger”

“On the Futility of Anger” [The Rambling Prose of Paul Burgess–entry 7]
I. There are two ways to deal with the past: We can learn from painful, destructive errors that changes in mind and action need to become a priority if we want a brighter future; or we can decide that the dark past—despite being irretrievably gone—should become the dark present, which in its turn becomes the dark future.

II. Punishing someone might make the punisher think that “justice’ is being served, but revenge is not true justice, and attempting to heal one’s emotional wounds by making others suffer is as ineffective a remedy as stabbing someone else to heal one’s own stab wounds.

III. If a house burns, we should seek the cause of the accident and rebuild the house more securely rather than kick and curse its ashes. Kicking the ashes seems superficially to be futile, yet harmless, but—viewed rationally—such an act clearly harms its agents by throwing dust in their eyes, soiling their clothing, and maybe even burning their bodies.

 

“The Inquisition and the Lions”

“The Inquisition and the Lions”–by Paul Burgess

The lions shall be crucified,
For they will not renounce their pride!

“Niobe, Arachne, Marsyas, and Others who Bruised the Gods’ Egos” [Morals from Mythology]by Paul Burgess

To wound a god or goddess’s fragile pride
Is deadlier than committing suicide.

“Salesmen [from HELL]”

“Salesman”
The compound “salesman” was originally the compound “sails-man.” To relieve the kingdom of undesirables, Tudor monarchs would have these pests “man the sails” on merchant ships. Recognizing the economic benefits of shamelessness and dishonesty, the merchants often sent these “sails-men” into towns to vend wares. While the merchant tended to other business, the sails-men would try to sell goods at the market. The possibility of receiving a five-percent commission inspired many of the men to raise the art of the sales pitch to unprecedented levels.
Incidentally, the term “fire”—as in, “Let’s fire Johnny before he is eligible for a pension”—comes from the method used by merchants to ensure that sails-men returned with the profits and unsold goods. Sails-men were branded with a mark recognized throughout Europe. People who captured and returned escaped sails-men would receive a monetary reward, and the sails-men would earn an all-expenses-paid vacation to a burning pit; in other words, the sails-men would be “fired”.
A notable early use of the terms “sails-men” and “fire” appears in Tremblestaff’s Merchantman of Florence:

When sails-men giveth me all that is due,
Their prize will be a pretty pound or two.
But mark! If runneth they away with it,
‘Tis time to light a flaming, fiery pit.
Post nigh the ashes there enmired,
“Here lie some rascals who a merchant fired.”