String Time

D a v i d C o g g e r

String Time

Once upon a time or so, when dreams were often heard,
I listened to a funny yarn, about a string that was a nerd.
T’was in a land, not far away, with mysteries and riddles.
Where dogs would bark at silly things and cats could play their fiddles.
Where bovines launched themselves from earth to go around the moon.
And kings and rulers lived in peace, which ended all too soon.
Where bags of belly laughs poured out and giggles never died,
And wondrous things seemed hard to do, until you really tried.
Where girls were made of sugar and spice and little boys of strings,
Whose pockets held peculiar stuff, and many other things.
Now in these easy days of fun, when life could give such hope,
And young string lads grew up to be big strong lengths of rope.
There once was just a simple string, a long thin straggly fellow,
Whose hair was short and sparse and his teeth were soft and yellow.
His name was Sasha Braidy and he certainly lacked some flair.
For his face was often messy and his colourless clothes threadbare.
He always drove his car to work, but was never known to speed.
Whilst he was only two strands thick, he was very smart indeed,
Yet, our dear Sasha was sad and lonely, till once he used his mind,
And came out quite triumphant, to redeem all stringdom kind.
He worked within a science lab, where theory and science merged.
His field of expertise was atoms, though his thoughts were seldom heard,
His work was on ‘String Theory’ which required a lot of care.
The work was hard, the hours long and time he couldn’t spare,
One day whilst sitting in his chair, as he was quietly thinking,
His colleagues asked him out that night to do some serious drinking.
He gave no-one a problem, he never made a fuss,
So when he said he’d go with them, they said he was the bus.
By this they meant that he would drive them all around the pubs.
And later if they felt like it, he could drive them to the clubs.
Now Sasha’s not a turkey, though I often felt he tried,
But when he heard the invitation, he almost sat and cried
For to go out with the lads was just the one thing that he craved,
So he splashed onto his face ‘Old Splice’ his favourite after shave.

Now I have known so many strings but they’ve all remained detached,
Some have gone to bigger things, whilst most have been despatched.
Still strings are brave and useful things, and often just serene.
And now I’ve heard about a string that longs so for the scene.
Oh sure there are the strings who like to be the wrap around,
Who look real sweet and bow and sweep or try and stitch things down.
They tie the birthday thought and the gifts at Christmas time,
Still they remain such simple string, and really do just fine.
There are of course the strings that make up music for our ears,
Who pull our very heart strings and fill our eyes with tears.
But not all strings are simple folk, I really must confess,
What about the strings who say, they clean up all the mess,
Who have a hidden agenda, or get a job for So and So.
It’s not because they’re better, it’s just because they know!
Then of course there are some strings who garrotte people dead,
Or topple mighty governments, at least that’s what they’ve said.
We know of course the strings who send the arrows into war,
So to say, all strings are peaceful folk, reveals a basic flaw,
But like so many strings before and many strings hereafter,
Sasha Braidy was meant to feel the brunt of peoples laughter.
Still I don’t wish to string you along, when there is much to do,
For many a weary piece of string will break like me and you!
But wait a minute, where is the plot, I have a path to tread,
I’d better return you to my story, before you go to bed.

Now Sasha’s colleagues sung for him a very selfish song,
That club life was for men not string, but he never cottoned on.
As they stood in the nightclub line, they towed him right along.
Even borrowing his car keys, till he felt ‘there’s nothing wrong’.
But when they reached the front door of the local trendy place,
The doormen there, grew quite unfair and didn’t like his face,
"Be on your way you piece of string!" they laughed and jeered and said
And would his work mates stand up for him, not likely, use your head!
They waved at Sasha from the door and gaily went on through,
So Sasha pleaded with the doormen, what else could he do?
"Not likely you rotten little twine!" they said and pushed him down,
So Sasha deeply sad and hurt stumbled into town.

His keys were gone, his money spent, he felt alone and stranded.
What his colleagues had done to him was definitely underhanded.
With no where else for him to go, he wandered for a while,
When looking in a passing mirror, he stopped and gave a smile!
But there was not a happy thought, within him at this time!
With a drooping jaw, he pondered more, why can’t I look just fine?
When suddenly a thought occurred and a light went on inside,
"If I am going down," he mused, "at least I will have tried!"
Sasha made some rapid moves, before he lost his thread.
He raised his chin and curled his neck, to wrap around his head.
Then he curled back up and pushed on through to bolster up his shoulders.
He dabbled his hair with a razor blade there and suddenly he felt bolder.
He pulled his poofy waistcoat off and turned it inside out.
Now dressed in black and frizzied hair, he began to dance and shout!
"No point," he screamed, "to be so square, I must get my body pumping,"
So he raced back to the night venue where he found himself still jumping.
He met some pretty girls in line, who liked the string they saw,
They asked him if he’d dance with them, when they got through the door!
"Most certainly good ladies", said Sasha with a sudden cool,
He was walking in his dream come true and was nobodies fool!
The doormen didn’t know him, they couldn’t even tell,
That the string they had kicked out before was back and looking swell.
They looked at both the girls with him, and longed to be his mate.
They complimented Sasha, and said "you’re looking great"!
They waved him quickly through the door and gave a cheesy grin,
But Sasha didn’t notice this, the moment he was in.

With two girls dancing next to him, for a string he had some style
He bopped and grooved and twisted, then he slow danced for a while.
Now Sasha’s so-called friends were there, huddled in a mess,
But with no form to socialise, they were the general pests.
When Sasha saw their sodden state, he waited for his chance,
And picked a pocket for his keys, then went on back to dance.
Then when they saw young Sasha, with two girls upon the floor,
Still was this really Sasha? They stared, to be real sure?
"We didn’t think you’d get in here!" they said unto the string,
"That was your plan, I see it now, you refused to help me in?
I have no further time for you, so when I leave this place!"
Here he waved his keys at them and reality hit each face.
"I’ll be driving home in my car, and I won’t be carrying you!
After all you’ve done for me, I don’t care what you do!"
"But aren’t you just young Sasha, a simple string, so what?"
"A simple string!" he laughed at them, and the whole room laughed as well
"I'm a frayed knot!"