The Owl Prince (or Why Beauty can be Deadly.)
Beauty was brought before the King in black, sack black,
hair pulled back with a twisted vine. She didn’t speak
or smile, fooled no one. Bone structure is bone structure.
In deference, she lowered her eyes, so the King addressed
the top of her head, a head that turned heads throughout
the realm. Her dazzling smile she tucked up her sleeve.
Hear ye, Beauty has stabbed the Owl Prince twelve times.
Convinced his son’s death was imminent, the King
waited until the last minute to order Beauty beheaded,
the ultimate price for slaying a Royal, whereupon
a breathless courier announced that the Owl Prince
was seen galloping off on his stallion, sharing the saddle
with a redheaded wench, same wench the Owl Prince
diddled in the Royal Gardens while the Gardener snipped
long-stemmed roses for Beauty. As for the stabbings,
Beauty pleaded not guilty: Your Majesty, he brought me
roses every day, every day we made love on a bed of petals.
What was I supposed to do? He stole inside me like a thief.
Then Beauty smiled a smile that so bewitched the King
he ordered her released and took her for his Queen.
Hearing the news the Owl Prince returned, but Beauty
barred her door to him. Undeterred the scoundrel forced
himself within, whereupon the next day, his body
was found floating face down in the Maun River shallows.
The face is splattered with emotions as if to say, ” I am what I am.
I do my duty bringing Beauty her dozen roses everyday. But I can’t help to notice the other interesting things in the garden. How dare she stabs me and charms my father to set her free?”
The poem tells the complicated story in a few lines and aids the audience to see emotion expressed in the portrait.
This work is out standing and unique. Nancy Scott is an artist and poet that will go far.
This is a remarkable tour de force with imagination and wit. I heard you read material like this at Marble Book Store in Philadelphia and I was wowed then.I know of nothing like this kind of wit and amusing language. It reminds me a bit like what Anne Sexton might have dreamed up without your witty turns of expression.
Keep on humming and may Beauty sit beside us all.