I hold the pencil in my hand
And cannot seem
To let it touch the paper
As I watch a series of video
Of the goodly work
Of many others
Who have dropped their pencils
And other other tools
To bring a dream to life
That began but long before
I was even a gleam of a gleam
In anyone's eye
And has continued long past since
I was able to have dreams of my own
And even make them real
With effort enough
And not a little bit of luck
From when I was Chuck
To now as Charles
With projects in
All the medias
That have but been
Which is quite the feat indeed
For any character
And the goodly subject
Of both the poem and videos
That I am writing yes
And watching too
Is the legend himself
One Oliver Queen
An arrow in Green
And in all the medias
That he has been but in
It is only that of Video Games
That I have not but taken
Some good part of
And I'm okay with that
As I long ago left the liking
Of those games behind
Just as I long ago stopped watching
The Arrow itself
When it was set In Starling
And not the rightful Star City
And he was not but yet
The good Green Arrow
And was killing as well
With some abandon
But I still like the character
And I bought the actor
In this goodly role
And was touched by his tv death
Because of that truth
So though it's been months
Since last I watched
Any of these videos
And even longer since
His death and aftermath
Was aired indeed
I'm brought but back
Into those feelings
I'm talking of course
About the living Letter Tau
The most fully present
Of the four that I house
Inside my little flat
And was housing before
I knew I was housing them
But that's a minor detail
And story for
Another good time
Even if it never comes
Not that you weren't fully aware
Of all my recent doings
As you're following me
At my Insta
And over at Happs no doubt
And have at least looked
To see what my videos
On youtube yes
At least but look like
Along with reading me daily here
Becuase that's how you roll
At least that is my hope
Though it could sadly be
A foolish one
As nary a soul
Is subscribed to me
Save for the ghosts I think
But they don't count
On the physical plain
Though they nicely number up
To 3417
That's just a thing
That I tell myself
When I wake up sighing
And think about the dream
That I never had
Of being a youtube star
Which is well and truly good
Because I can't be
A who are you
As I'm not even a nobody there
Not that you should care
But I wouldn't mind if you did
Even just a smidge
So my little letter Tau
Is writing now
And he's taking delight
In being well but able
To write more than me
On any given day
And he's already done it once
So he can surely do it again
And you surely don't have to care about this
Because he can write more than me
On a handful of days
But more than that
I think but not
And even if I should turn out wrong
And he can win week after week
My lead on him
Is insurmountable
So it won't be a concern
For the rest of 2021
Sadly the same cannot be said
About the 6 point lead
The failing Habs have
On the flickering Flames
Who are about to roar to life
And burn the Habs' hopes down
All around themselves
If they cannot win
And they don't even have to win them all
As at their best
The Flames can only win to the point
Of 67 points this season
While the Habs can win their way
To 79
Which is a difference of 12
But as they're playing now
They can scarcely play
To fiddy feck
Now if this should be true
Then there ain't no way
That the Flames can't win
Another 7 games
When 6 of those
Are against the Habs
Who have shown
That the team they own
This seasons of ups and downs
Is the Bleu Blanc Rouge
So they are boned
If they can't beat anyone else
But The floundering Canucks
Who they're finished with
And the streaky Oilers
Who they can still but lose
Yes badly to
And to think that this was a team
That was built for the playoffs
When they couldn't get
Yes out of their own damn way
And win the games
That they should win
Or at least not play but like
They're lost on the ice
I've failed to win the day twice this week
Though I'm still standing tall
And within striking distance
Of still winning it yes
Which I would like to do
Because once but more
The weeks but coming yes
Will not be the same
As the ones I've had so far
As I will have to pass
On busting my ass
To fell 20 fields
Over 7 days and nights
So it is good that my record is what it is
Which is 11 and 2
With some good chance
At hitting 12 to the up
Before I fall to 3 to the down
And it just dawned on me
That over the last five games
The dreadful Sabres
Have more dang wins
Than the failing Habs
And that's all kinds of sad
Given the number of losses they have
compared to the failers themselves
Ugh oh bother
Canada failed
To curl to a medal
At the Men's Curling World's
And they didn't even lose
To the eventual champion
Which sometimes is
What is but wanted
When the thinking's like
You want them to lose to the best
While other times
You want them just to lose
And in this moment
I wanted them to be beaten
By the champion country
Of all the world
But Scotland lost
To Sweden ja
And Canada remains stalled
At 36 up
And losers of two dang straight
To Sweden sigh
But they will win again
As they've medalled in 54
Of the 62 years
The ship has sailed the competitive seas
It just didn't happen
In the year I turned 50
Which would have been nice
What also would have been
Nice to see
Is a Cup for the Habs
Like they had
40 years before I was born
And the year that I was
But the way they're playing now
They won't have the chance
To play for the right
To hoist it high
Like last they did
All the way back
In 1993
Which is a long long time ago
So long ago in fact
That II had yet to do
The regular writer thing
And was only writing
Yes fitfully
Which ain't the way
That I believe
That writing should be done
As I but think
That it should be
A daily thing
Like drawing yes
And the goodly practice
Of music three
But that's only for me
To insist for myself
Though I certainly invite ]
Yes all to follow this habit
But enough with the writing
I've got to elsewhere go
But as you know
I will be back
And you'll be glad I am
Or at least not angry
At the very worst I hope
And the poet came back
The very next quarter
Though very late
And not but set upon
The path to greatness
Because of that fact
He looked in his cupboard
Bare as it was
Of goodly desserts
And knew he'd have to leave it so
Yes even though
There was time to rectify
Such a sadful situation
He knew he must but let it be the case
Until the morrow yes
As the poetry demanded attention
As he was a quest
To be the best
That he could be
So he would remain
Hard at work
Without the sweetness
That he so likes to eat
As a meal is not complete
Without this good
And come the end of the day
Even if he would fail
To do what he ever aims to do
He'll still but stand him close
Because the first two quarters
Were as good as they were
With hopes for the good
Of the coming last
To be but good enough
For the winning of the day