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Rebecca Nov 2020
The witch is dead?
Can this be?
My sister is gone,
so why am I happy?

Am I the wicked
and not the good?
Are these feelings I'm feeling
to be understood?

If the wicked do not rest
will she find her peace?
Did the evil she possess
get passed on to me?

There's a smile on my face
to mask my pain.
I will mirror the Munchins
celebration in vain.

"Ding ****!",  They cheer
parading down the road,
celebrating Dorothy
and her little dog, Toto.

She murdered my sibling
by her twisting home.
She came from Kansas
a place unknown.

Who is the child,
that is getting applause?
A demon to destroy
the Witches of Oz?

I need to send her back
with a simple spell,
back to Kansas;
back to hell.

I may be the next witch
on her list,
to eradicate
with a house that twists.

The Emerald wizard will answer her call.
For there’s no place like home, after all.
"Begone, before somebody drops a house on you too!" - Glinda, the good witch of the south
Rebecca Nov 2020
Dorothy Gale,
are you okay?
Is the Clozapine keeping
your twisters at bay?

Do the brainless scarecrows
invade your dreams?
Is your sanity
unraveling at the seams?

No witches on brooms
are taking flight,
no flying demon monkeys
are coming tonight.

There's a yellow brick road
to your padded room.
where a straight jacket
waits to seal your doom.

There are no ruby slippers
to take you back home.
No wizard to cure
your psychotic syndrome.
"Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore." - Dorothy Gale
Rebecca Oct 2020
I’m a man, made out of the tin;
sheets of worn-out metal,
decaying in an orchard
with my trusty axe and kettle.

I cried myself to rust
because I have no heart,
No love for this metallic man;
no soul mate counterpart.

Can’t you hear the sounds
that echo underneath?
A hollow empty shell
where a heart's supposed to beat.

The days are long and grinding;
the nights are even longer.
Rotting away in this field
my mind begins to wonder.

I dream of sweet devotion
that I want to feel
and cardiac vibrations
put in this man of steel.

A coronary muscle
overflowing with affection
is all I ever wanted,
an emotional connection.

Wait! What’s this......??

I see ruby sparkles
and stare with fascination.
It's skipping upon some yellow bricks,
is this a hallucination??


To Be Continued.....
"I'd be tender, I'd be gentle
And awful sentimental
Regarding love an art
I'd be friends with the sparrows
And the boy that shoots the arrows
If I only had a heart"  - The Tin Man "If I Only Had A Heart" from The Wizard of Oz
Sean M O'Kane Sep 2018
Auntie Em is calling….

I was just getting to love my Emerald City
The shiny feel of it, its sweetly diverse demi-monde.
Its shimmering green beauty and tranquil sense of safety.
The heels of my ruby red slippers were well & truly dug in.
But no, the state fair balloon stands before me ******* & ready to go.
A grand exclamation mark in my way if ever there was one.
And Toto for once has gone mute, no chance of a last minute hold up.

"Dorothy, Dorothy, where are you?"

I guess it must have been too fantastical a dream to be true.
A time for goodbyes.
I’m embracing the Lion telling him to always be proud of himself & not to walk unafraid.
The Tin Man’s gentle open heartedness I compliment him on as we both shed tears.
The Scarecrow I kiss and thank for his loyalty & grace under fiery pressure.
With a heavy heart, I climb that first tentative step on the block.  

"We’re sick with worry over you"

I could be angry but the wise words of the mystic ring loudly in my year.
I do need to go back – My Auntie Em is really calling me.
Calling me back to the grey flatlands of home.
Back to the numbness of small town heteronormativity.
Where Twisters rarely every came by to sweep you away and save you.
I could only keep singing ‘Over The Rainbow’ in vain hope.

"Find yourself a place where you won't get into any trouble!

Unlike Dorothy Gale, this Dorothy left Kansas voluntarily
The long yellow brick road finally took me under the rainbow and on to my Emerald City
I no longer pined for home but knew all along that it would call me back one day.
And so here I am, drifting higher & higher away from my adopted home.
Perhaps I need to build a revolving door when I get there to pass through both worlds easily
Or perhaps bring something of the rainbow back to illuminate the grey-lands.
Or perhaps – in reality -  some reconciliation between these worlds is in order.
Perhaps.
It’s time to slip on the ruby red slippers and prepare the way for Kansas.
Yes, this Dorothy has surrendered but
I always had the power to be me, my dear.
I just had to learn it for myself.

August –September 2018
This poem was written in response to my feelings about some tragic news I received last month & how I was dealing with it. Initially, it was quite deep & bitter in the way it wallowed over the world I thought I was losing because of my duty to family. My home town is a stifling throwback to bad old neanderthal homophobia and has nary a sniff of transcendental beauty unlike my adopted home.

However, I thought long & hard and realised that because I now stand tall as a proud bi/pan/queer person I should take what I have gained and use it to guide me. Plus my anger was wrongly placed - not at the family member for taking me away from my Emerald City but cancer itself for throwing chaos into our lives.
Asonna Mar 2018
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Please stop staring at the hole.
With magic i could be one once more,
But fairytales aren't standing tall.
Ruby shoes run out of wishes
I'm sculpted, carved. just like pumpkin.
There's just no light inside. It's gone.
melli7 May 2017
There are precious few at ease
with moral ambiguities,
so we act as though they don't exist.







              ---Wizard of Oz in "Wicked," lyricist Stephen Swartz

— The End —