The Nightmare before Christmukkah

Bak from 'nam.... twas nice, prob hear more about it soon but i don't have any time rite nw.

In the meantime, its tales by Tim Burton, our friendly director/writer/producer/DAMN-talented-man/best-director-next-to-clint-eastwood/wierd-guy who embraces spooky, dark victorian sorta-gothic styles in his movies (yes qutie a mouthful). But hey! he writes books too, so i thought i share some stories which i find quite entertaining from 'The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy'.

Anywayz, Tim Burton basically wrote this book to highlight the troubles of young teens in various surreal scnerios while embracing his distinct flavourful styles. (btw the graphics are really nice too.... yet a tad creepy! )


1. The Boy With nails In His Eyes

The Boy with Nails in His Eyes
Put up his aluminum tree
It looked pretty strange
because he couldn't really see


2. The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy


He proposed in the dunes,
they were wed by the sea,
their nine-day-long honeymon
was on the isle of capri.

For their supper they had one spectacular dish-
a simmering stew of mollusks and fish
And while he savored the broth,
her bride's heart made a wish.

That wish did come true- she gave birth to a baby.
But was this little one human?
Well,
maybe.

Ten fingers, ten toes,
he had plumbing and sight.
He could hear, he could feel,
but normal?
Not quite.
This unatural birth, this canker, this blight,
was the start and the end and the sum of their plight.

She railed at the doctor:
"He cannot be mine.
He smells of ocean, of seaweed and brine."

"You should count yourself lucky, for only last week,
I treated a girl with three ears and a beak.
That your son is half oyster
you cannot blame me.
...have you considered, by chance,
a small home by the sea?"

Not Knowing what to name him,
they just called him sam,
or, sometimes,
"that thing that looks like a clam."

Everyone wondered, but noone could tell,
When would young Oyster boy come out of his shell?

When the Thompson quadruplets espied him one day
they called him a bivalve and ran quickly away.

One spring afternnon
Sam was left in the rain.
At the southwestern corner of Seaview and main,
he watched the rain water as it swirled
down the drain.

His mom on the freeway
in the breakdown lane
was pounding the dashboard-
she couldn't contain
the ever-rising grief,
frustration,
and pain.

"Really, sweetheart," she said,
"I don't mean to make fun,
but something smells fishy
and i think its our son.
I don't like to say this, but it must be said,
you're blaming our son for your problems in bed."

He tried salves, he tried ointments
that turned everything red
He tried potions and lotions
and tincture of lead.
He ached and itched and twichted and he bled.

The doctor diagnosed,
"I can;t be quite sure,
but the cause of the problem may also be the cure.
They say oysters improve your sexual powers.
Perhaps eating your son
would help you do it for hours!"

He came on tiptoe,
he came on the sly,
swaer on his forehead,
and on his lips- a lie.
"Son, are you happy? I don't mean to pry,
but do you dream of heaven?
Have you wanted to die?"

Sam blinked his eyes twice
but made no reply.
Dad fingered his knife and loosened his tie.

As he picked up his son
Sam dripped on his coat.
With the shell to his lips,
Sam slipped down his throat.

They buried him quickly in the sand by the sea
-sighed a prayer, wept a tear-
and were back home by three.

Across of gray drifttwood marked osyter boy's grave.
Words writ in the sand
promised Jesus would save.

But his memory was lost with one high-tide wave.

Back home safe in bed,
he kissed her and said,
"Let's give it a whirl."

"But this time," she whispered, "we'll wish for a girl."


3. Stick Boy's Festive Season


Stick Boy noticed that his christmas tree looked healtheir
than he did.


4. Junk Girl

There once was a girl
who was made of junk.
She looked really dirty,
and she smelled like a skunk.

She was always unhappym
or in one of her slumps- perhaps 'cause she spent
so much time down in the dumps.

The only bright moment
was froma guy named stan.
he was the neighborhood
garbage man.

He loved her alot
and made a marraige proposal,
but she'd already thrown herself
down a garbage disposal.




Disclamer: I did not write any of these stories, they are quoted as they were in the book. Hopefully, no law was broken. if your looking for the rightful writer, his name is Tim Burton.

Btw you can see all of his stories at http://homepage.eircom.net/~sebulbac/burton/choose.html
And I recommend you do!

Labels: A Touch of literature

|

Exclamation_popcorn reflected on life at 8:06 PM