Viva La Vengeance! Oh, A Tale of Two Cities!

+   = WTF?!?!

Although this poem has absolutely nothing to do with Dickens, at first glance at this title will perpetually bring to mind the Vengeance from "A Tale of Two Cities." Characters like her is why I love literature and want to teach it! The Vengeance in the film version really brought to light how much of a creeper she actually is. WHAT A LAUGH! Who in blazes is the Vengeance do you ask? She's a good chum of Madame Defarge, or in other words, her partner in crime. Her sidekick. She's essentially a terrifyingly bloodthirsty member of the French Revolution. She's the Wicked Witch of the West + Jafar + the Queen from Snow White (and then some!) all rolled into one fucked up, spiteful, perverse creature. And a creature is what she exactly is! She's the farthest thing from a human being! Saying she's a smidge cantankerous, sour and ornery would sorely be an understatement believe me! She's one of the most uproarious characters ever created for a work of fiction. She's right up there with Sula, King Lear's daughters (namely Goneril. Because that sounds like an STD. Which I declared in AP English senior year.)

Anyway, when I wrote this poem, this creepyass old windbag was the farthest thing from my spastic trains of thought. However, looking back, my God does she tie in well into the theme of this poem!

<=== Look, she's fist pumping!
GTL baby! What a scalawag! BA!

I could see Vengeance and Angelina actually being insanely good pals. Both need some SERIOUS anger management classes! Just throwing that out there folks!

Vengeance

In an iron sphere so cold and dim
I see out, they can’t see in
Fire-eyed demons in suits of lambs
Tell me I can’t do things I can
Tell me I’m not things I am

Blackbird on blackboard they barely see me
I pave my own path
Thus, they only scorn me

Vultures claw into the towering edifice
Scratch as you may
It all goes away
The edifice will always stand, unscathed

Scribe to a tablet
Circus in head
Whatever is there is that that I dread
As the pits of hell encroach upon the hallowed ground
The blazing torches then surround

The vultures’ motives are none too faint
Edifice can peel through thy gold paint
Though the nearby tree’s unmoved
Edifice will sprout much higher soon

Stoic to the point of stone
In the golden cage you roam
Crossly gazing at my dome
With enough fury to blow me home

Tiptoe so the floor won’t creek
Think you’re strong, you say I’m weak
Say my future looks so bleak

When parallel intersects
I’m pounded down, without a breath
I’m stomping now just like a colt
Tapping foot, raring to bolt

Don’t erupt, stifle the roar
The siren blares, sneak out the door
Send the boomerang right back
Long ago, I would’ve packed
Walking on a rope of string
I hear you growl, you hear me sing
Though the tree ignores everything

Edifice sees through its windows, hears the true sounds
Fights with its might to demolish the mound
They scratch the bricks
And leave their mark
Although it quickly fades
For the towering edifice
Will crush the vultures someday

The edifice’s roof soaks in the rays
And craves the end of the day
When night sweeps across the land
The bricks fold their hands and pray
Digging deeper in the sand

The birds believe the building is the lesser being
For the birds’ words have the ability to sting
The proudest vulture of the brood
Not amiable in the least
Struts with smut and drivel
That the ignorant brood just cannot see

The edifice gazes out its sphere
So calm, so sharp, so shrewd
The vultures don’t see it standing there
As they exchange words that are so crude

Fatuous cruelty
So needless and grim
They fight, so unjust and sly
But I will always win