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I Am Oscar
| Open Poetry #41 |
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I Am Oscar |
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SPIRIT Senior Member
since 2002-12-29
Posts 1745California Desert |
I Am Oscar I am overcome by my place Within the annuals of history. I was then and I am now An egotistical man. A melodramatic Irishman Of great wit and fashionable flair. I found writing to be such a bore, But…I wrote poems and tales. Plays also, that parodied the human equation On domestic discord. Satirically raucous, My words became sought after. Somewhat pompous and booming I brought much laughter To the Victorian stage. And even today My cutting words leave their mark On more modern day audiences. I loved the arts, The harmony and the comradeship Of intelligent, bohemian Under rated and stimulating men. Many of whom would rather starve, Than betray their talents, All the while seeking recognition, In a world of unappreciative patrons. I think my wife…Constance, Added a certain virtuous innocence to my life, Besides she was financially a great plus, but… She bored me and I seriously neglected her. My two children, I loved But ignored somewhat. This failing I must admit to. Although…to my credit, I think After their births and for their amusement, I did write several children's stories. All my writings only produced one novel. The story of a young man who sold his soul To retain his beauty. Many questioned whether or not Was fashioned as an autobiography. I could as easily say yes As I could say no…to such a question. I came to a sorry end, That I am mostly to blame for. I became enamoured, In love, or was it lust For a young man of peerage. My sweet Bosie. I regret not one minute spent with him, Although we certainly had our ups and downs, Like any relationship that lasts a few years. His father, Lord Queensberry, insulted me So I, the loud belligerent Irishman Took him to court, and I became, easily, My own worst enemy. Romantic epistles I had written To my dear boy… came to light. I was sentenced to two years, Two long years of hard labour Within the disgusting British Penal System, For my homosexual acts of so called perversion. Some good, I suppose, did come out From my experiences in confinement. I wrote brilliantly and with insight About the deplorable conditions Of the jails…and thus helped In passing reformations to such. After my revelations a new law passed That no longer were children To be imprisoned. I came out of jail a most bitter And a very much bankrupted man, Emotionally and financially. Stripped bare of arrogance, friends and family I escaped to France. I died alone, unloved, unwanted In a friendless hotel room, But a short three years… (An eternity of friendless days,) After release from prison. Today…in my death I am appreciated more, Even understood more… than in my life. Possibly I was a man before my time, I leave you with my following observation… We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. Oscar Wilde. With apologies to Mr. Wilde |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
No apologies accepted...this was very well done..and I have missed your pen. It's good to have you back, Dinah! |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
a very interesting story~~ M |
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TomMark Member Elite
since 2007-07-27
Posts 2133LA,CA |
good summary in a poem. good read Tomtoo |
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