Turns Tragic for Mr. Charles Beaumont
away like Walter Jameson,
faculties depart down the hourglass.
end for The Twilight Zone’s famous
death could break this cruel impasse.
unfolds from science fiction.
Beware! the shadows overstretch the brain:
flits away it all: the plots, the diction,
commentary, excised without pain.
macabre scene is such a poignant haunting
other writers. Write now, write
be around the corner, leaving wanting
legacy with wheezing swallowed breaths.
waste away dark star below weird plane
that could make the sane insane.
children—they know not how real life works,
truly gold buys only so much love,
not much more respect. Not that we’re weak,
knew weakness before), but chance will oust
family, perhaps a dynasty.
saw the embers with my timid father,
extinguished the flames of a crazed king,
still the realm learned nothing. It takes fear,
lion’s roar, an unsheathed sword at times
order what’s awry. Unpleasant paths
patriarch must walk, but there are no
for rulers of this crag. Respect
is still respect received, and sheep
still but sheep. This is our legacy!
The Peeled-Back Facts
neighbours to the west are just as those
lordships situated below the throat
this raised land. They forget what installed
oh-so high and mighty to their stations.
was not faith for better futures. Life
always been attired with viciousness,
why deny realities, the frozen hearts
warm as we clench steel to layered chests?
truth of this world lies below the skin
surgically stripped from the bone.
is something the called lords paramount
stark forgotten, claimed uncivilized
reiterating winter’s claim.
cold was always here as pressed knives show.
Cerebral verse has
fled the mind, withdrawn
as Thyrsis left
without saying goodbye,
his presence felt
beyond the Oxford lawn
and heard on
autumn winds as plangent sighs.
proclaimed as balderdash is shelved
as fancy of a man
who has lost touch
with tough prudential
words. His mind he helved
for prose, while
verse he had laid in his hutch.
It fell away as
his beleaguered faith
the rushing tide of doubts,
banshee wail which wraiths
in Celtic tales
would sputter forth and pout.
As Crassus of the
it’s shameful that
Matt Arnold has no buzz.
Christopher Fried lives in Richmond, VA and works as an ocean shipping
logistics analyst. A poetry collection All Aboard the Timesphere was published
in 2013. His novel Whole Lot of Hullabaloo: A Twenty-First Century Campus
Phantasmagoria was published in 2020. Recently, he was an advisor on the
1980s science fiction film documentary In Search of Tomorrow (2022).