CAROUSEL WIND

Act 2 Scene 2

[Joy is walking along the beach and runs into the Mr. Poet:, who has his guitar with him.]

Joy:

Hello. I haven't seen you for a while.

Mr. Poet:

It must have been a year ago around this time.

Joy:

Have you done any concerts?

Mr. Poet:

Not really.

Joy: [sings]

Why don't you sing that song any more
You know the one you sang it before

Mr. Poet: [sings]

The song of the beggar who eats bread alone
The song of a king who fears for his throne
Song of the Blessing song of the curse
Life is the song you don't get to rehearse
I sang about life I sang about death
I sang till I was out of breath

Joy: [sings]

Why don't you sing that song any more
You know the one you sang it before

Mr. Poet: [sings]

Song of the dreamer who dresses in rags
The soldier too young to be draped in a flag
Song of the raven song of the dove
Will peace ever come to the people who love
I sang about life I sang about death
I sang till I was out of breath

Joy: [sings]

Why don't you sing that song any more
You know the one you sang it before

Mr. Poet: [sings]

Song of the preacher still standing tall
When pillars of justice get crooked and fall
Song of the lion song of the lamb
Let's all sing together the time is at hand
I sang about life I sang about death
I sang till I was out of breath

Joy and Mr. Poet: [sing in harmony]

Why don't you sing?

Mr. Poet:

When men first landed on the moon, I was working as an armed human scarecrow at a cherry farm. My alleged duty was to sit on top of a rickety tower and scare the birds with a shotgun. To look the part I would often wear my poetry coat.

My poetry coat had humble beginnings as a navy blue overcoat in the Salvation Army. I tie dye bleached it and inscribed poems in the faded blotches. The poems were kept on the inside, it being a time when I still had some modesty and occasionally opened up to bare my soul.
Sometimes I would employ the poetry coat as my phantom surrogate.

Using a water cooler in place of my head, I would put a straw hat on it, and place it where the railing converged. Then I'd prop up a crate and drape my coat with the shotgun holding the arms on the railing, thereby creating the illusion of being on the job.

The only difference between an actual scarecrow and a human scarecrow is the human element. By removing the human element I was able to come down to earth and do nefarious things, such as sneak up on my friend Michael in his nearby tower.

During the evening when flocks of starlings flew high overhead some of the young charges would blast their way through high heaven. Of course we were supposed to just scare the birds and not kill them. Nothing in the job description, however, specifically stated that we shouldn't perforate our fellow workers.

So it was with quiet abandon that I made my usual climb up Michael's tower. The towers had a tendency to sway when mounted, so it was difficult to ascend in a stealthy manner. Approaching the last few rungs I heard a volley of shots. Michael peered over the edge and said, "I knew you were up to something when I saw that crow land on your hat."

Upon returning to my tower I was shocked to see what had happened in my absence. My beloved poetry coat had been shot full of holes. I opened the walking anthology, and saw how a fine spray had decimated my precious lyrics. Looking through the holes I came to the sad realization that there were words missing from some of my poems. And that was the first time it occurred to me that I should edit my work.

Joy:

That's very amusing, but you're evading the question..

Mr. Poet:

I didn't want to get shot down. When I first started writing songs I tried very hard to be original, but actually, I was extremely weird. I wrote one song with an ending that went: "I knew my song was finished so I bought her a balloon. And I told her the son always shines on the bright side of the moon."

Joy:

What's wrong with that?

Mr. Poet:

A classmate accused me of plagiarizing Pink Floyd, and I later learned it was "bad astronomy." I had never heard "The Dark Side of the Moon."

Joy:

That can't be the real reason. Tell me the real story behind you getting burned out as a star..

Mr. Poet: [sings]

Long ago I had a dream that I would be a star
And so I played an open stage but didn't get that far
Hanging out with a Handful of Stars chasing the night away
Our dreams to make it to the top missed the light of day

And like the light of an ancient star that reaches us this day
I'd like my song to reach to you after I fade away

Stars are bound to drift apart — the universe expands
It's sad to see on looking back our dreams got out of hand
I might have climbed right up the charts or burned up in a dive
But heaven helped me on the way and kept the dream alive

And like the light of an ancient star that reaches us this day
I'd like my song to reach to you after I fade away

There was a wall at the open stage
Where stars would leave their names
This song goes out to everyone
Who shares the quest for fame

The world becomes a brighter place when dreamers take a chance
And like all stars that fill up space they need no song to dance
The silent hearts within us all are longing to be heard
I only hope my long lost friends will find me in these words

Joy:

That was a better explanation. It was more sincere. You still want to touch people. But you can't let weird antics and humorous songs be a wall between you and your audience. If you sing what's truly in your heart it will move people.

Mr. Poet:

Last year, the day after we met you, I sang a song called "Death" which is a spoof on the movie "The Seventh Seal" and had the feeling I was offending someone.

Joy:

That was the time my grandfather was on his deathbed. You would have been offending me...

Mr. Poet:

I'm sorry.

Joy:

That's ok.

Mr. Poet:

So that's why you didn't show up to see Enigma. You know he was really heartbroken about that. I think he's still in love with you.

Joy:

I wondered why he didn't try again. but that is inspiring that he likes me. I feel like singing. Here's a song for you. My granddad used to sing it to remind him that it was his duty to fill the world with song...

Joy: [Sings]

It's my song and I'm gonna sing it
You know it just occurred to me
That it's my life and I'm gonna live it
So you better just let me be

Forget the words I'll just wing it
It's my song and I'm gonna sing it
Cause I've been silent for far too long
Now I'm gonna fill the world with song

It's my ship and I'm gonna sail it
I don't rely upon the stars
I'll grab the tail of a comet
And jot it down in my memoirs

Forget the words I'll just wing it
It's my song and I'm gonna sing it
Cause I've been silent for far too long
Now I'm gonna fill the world with song

Too many clowns on the bandwagon
Don't know how to keep a beat
Just don't let them throw you off
Cause It's nasty on the street

It's my tale and I'm gonna tell it
There's nothing I'd rather do
Cause I make something out of nothing
No one has seen my point of view

Forget the words I'll just wing it
It's my song and I'm gonna sing it
Cause I've been silent for far too long
Now I'm gonna fill the world with song

Continue to Act 2 Scene 3