Chapter 9:
The Poet That Would Never Know It
Author's Note: Thank you for all of your reviews! Please enjoy the next chapter! Oh, and just so you know, I came up with the poems too!
Disclaimer: I don't own Mario. Obviously!
The dim lights and calm atmosphere of the Forte Café greeted the over-whelmed princess as she stumbled over to a seat, right in front of the ordering counter.
The caf's walls were a grayish purple color, seeing the theme of the café was relaxation; this was the ideal place to unwind and drink a cup of coffee. Which, in Princess Daisy's case, wouldn't be such a bad thing at the moment.
Having just nearly been kidnapped by some taxi-driving goon the princess was just glad to be alive and not trapped in some little empty room. No, this room she was currently in had an awful lot of character.
The aroma of freshly-brewed coffee filled the little café as most of the guests that were hanging out matched the walls in their blackish wardrobes. There was a little small platform in the back of the restaurant with a microphone. Chairs and small tables filled the area surrounding the stage, various inhabitants occupying them.
The princess' blue eyes gazed at the empty stage. She yawned. This environment made her feel rather tired. That and the fact she hardly got any sleep last night due to all the excitement of the upcoming tennis tournament...
Suddenly, a little Koopa with black sunglasses, a black beret, and black vest came onto the stage. "Good afternoon," he said, in a rather deep and soothing, poetic voice. "To all of you...."
The welcome speech seemed to turn into a little three stanza poem that ended up sounding much like this:
Good afternoon,To all of you,
A poetry contest is why we're gathered here,
So grab a coffee and pull up a chair near.
Today we'll hear the greatest poets of the land,
To which none of their poems are at all bland,
Princess Peach wouldn't have it any other way,
But her cousin's in the crowd today.
Daisy felt her cheeks flush bright red as what seemed to be a million and one eyes stared at her. Why was she always announced as Princess Peach's cousin? Heck, she was a princess too.
So let's give Princess Daisy a cheer,Maybe later she'll recite a poem up here,
And for the rest of the contestants gathered around,
Let's get this contest down!
The crowd clapped, as the Koopa walked off the platform. Daisy, quite astounded that they knew her name, applauded as well. It took talent to rhyme things and keep a constant rhythm THAT she knew. One of the hardest things she ever had to write was a sonnet. The sonnet needed ten syllables per verse, which caused her to constantly have count and recount words' syllables. She had come to a conclusion that day that iambic pentameter was no requirement.
She glanced at the stage, curious at who was next to come. A Goomba hopped onto it, adjusting the microphone pole so it was low enough for it to speak into it. "My name's Goombro and my poem's called Trash."
Daisy tried hard not to laugh.
"Trash may smell like yucky dirt,But I like to pour it on children's shirts,
The trash cans are my best friends,
With them, the fun never ends.
To see the look of despair on the kid's face,
As they walk off in their different pace,
It makes me feel like a pot of gold,
Polished; free of mold.
The flies swarm around the cans of waste,
But boy, do I like the taste,
Trash flies are the best kind to eat,
They really are quite a treat.
You might think I'm a piece of trash myself,
But, hey, I'm one of 'em elfs,
I gotta be the coolest guy around,
And this contest victory I'm bound."
The customers clapped, as the Goomba stepped off the stage. Daisy burst out laughing. A poem about trash!? She never thought anyone would be serious about that!
The Koopa, that had welcomed the guest before, stepped back on stage making various comments about how great the poem was. Sure, it rhymed but it was weird...at least...that was what Princess Daisy thought. She rolled her eyes. The audience seemed to love it.
Next, a little timid Toad made his way cautiously on stage, with a terrified look on his face. Maybe he had been one of the Goomba's victims.
"Err...hi everyone," they said in their childish little boy voice. Adjusting the microphone so he could speak, he took a deep breath. "My name is Toadie. My poem dedicated to my mommy. I call it 'My Mommy Wears A Pretty Necklace'."
"Aww..." Daisy let out, tilting her head. The little Toad was SO cute with his little blue spotted mushroom top, as he nervously clenched his piece of paper.
"The pearls shined as a necklace was taken out of the drawl,At first I didn't know what was in store.
The event was going to be of bliss,
My mommy wears a pretty necklace.
I'd always hang onto the beads,
Especially when my daddy leaves,
My mommy would give him a quick kiss,
My mommy wears a pretty necklace.
As I'd watch him walk out the door,
I'd get a weird feeling of bore,
And then the shadows would hiss,
That my mommy wears a pretty necklace.
The day my daddy never came back,
The day I saw my mommy cry while I ate snack,
The pretty necklace was thrown out the door,
And the pretty necklace my mommy wears was no more."
A tear fell down the princess' cheek as she listened to the end of the little Toad's poem. That couldn't possibly have happened to it? The poor poor thing! She watched him smile as he walked off the stage, proud of himself.
About five contestants later, yet another memorable one came up to the front. A familiar Toadette walked up onto the stage. Daisy rubbed her eyes. It couldn't be...
It was.
The Kootroopia freak had entered herself in the poetry contest.
"Hi!" she said, in an energetic voice. "My name's Toadette and my poem's called 'Can You Feel The Beat?'."
The princess frowned, watching from the distance. This wasn't going to be about Kootroopia, was it? She seemed pretty obsessed last time but now...she didn't look like she had ever heard of them. She had a black pink-polka-dotted dress on, with her hair up, rather then in childish braids.
"Can you feel the beat,Of the downtown streets?
Can you hear the sound,
Of the children around?
Can you see the light,
The stars so very bright,
Have you ever looked at the night sky?
As time passes by?
Have you ever felt controlled by love?
Have you ever seen a pure white dove?
Can you hear the music of those with broken hearts?
Have you ever considered poetry an art?
Have you ever had so many questions that it would never end?
Have you ever felt like you needed a friend?
If you ask yourself these then you'll just like me,
Life's full of doubts; just let it be."
It was an odd style of poetry, Daisy had to admit, but she couldn't help but clap. She was proud of the "#1 Fan". Not once in her poem had she mentioned Kootroopia. That was a major improvement.
The rest of the hour was spent listening to the various guests recite poems that they had worked their hardest to perfect in hope of success.
Daisy couldn't help but let her thoughts even have a poetic twist, as rhyming seem to become a spreadable disease to all those listening. She couldn't help that her gloved hand went up when they called for a contestant that hadn't gone. She couldn't help the standing ovation she got when she walked on top of the stage. She couldn't help her poem began in a silly way.
She stood there, adjusting the microphone to fit her own tall height. She took a deep breath and began to tell of her plight.
"Hi," she greeted, looking around. "I'm Princess Daisy..." It was much better then the 'Hi I'm Daisy!' greeting she had used all through the Mario Kart tournament. She couldn't help herself then...she wanted to be known. "And my poem is called 'The Poet That Wouldn't Ever Know It' "
She took a deep breath and begun. As soon as the first verse was done, the rest seem to come out on its own; flowing almost perfectly. The oddest part was all of this was coming from the top of her head. She didn't spend hours writing it; she didn't spend five minutes scribbling it onto a piece of paper. It came natural. Maybe it was natural talent...maybe it was the inspiration the café gave her...whatever it was, something wanted to present her thoughts in a more...artsy form.
"When Sally Elizabeth got on the train,She knew her life wouldn't be the same,
As the train left the departing station,
She made a mellow notation.
And the poet that didn't know it sat down,
Her face remained in its usual frown,
Did she know happiness was near?
Or was it something that she feared?
Sally knew something was up,
She heard a rattle as she lifted her tea cup,
The train had come to a complete stop,
She stood up.
And the poet that didn't know it looked around,
Her face remained in its usual frown,
Did she know happiness was near?
Or was it something that she feared?
One of the attendants came rushing over,
It held tight to its lucky clover,
But was luck really real?
Or was it some phony fake deal?
And the poet that didn't know it didn't make a sound,
Her face remained in its usual frown,
Did she know happiness was near?
Or was it something that she feared?
The attendant wore a cheesy fake smile on her face,
She explained how this delay would slow the train's pace,
But all through the explanation Sally felt close to demise,
She stayed quiet trying to seem smart and wise.
And the poet that didn't know it placed her feet on the ground,
Her face remained in its usual frown,
Did she know happiness was near?
Or was it something that she feared?
As the attendant hurried back to another part of the train,
As some of the other passengers started to feel insane,
Sally Elizabeth sat silently in her seat,
The horoscope section of the newspaper at her feet.
And the poet that didn't know it put her head down,
Her face remained in its usual frown,
Did she know happiness was near?
Or was it something that she feared?
She shut her eyes and tried to enjoy the rest of the journey,
There would be an answer surely,
Eventually the train started up again,
And that's where this tale must end."
Her eyes widen as the audience went into a full applause. She never really thought she had much talent. Taking a couple steps off the stage she hurried back to her seat. Sure, the poem could have been a bit longer but most of the other ones were only four stanzas...besides, she was out of rhymes. It was hard coming up with poems at the top of a person's head.
The Koopa, which seemed to have the role of emcee for the whole contest, got back on stage. He made a nice departure rhyme that Daisy hadn't really listened to. Though the poetry contest was a bit of a break, she knew her life was on the dawn of a predicament of disgrace.
Final Notes: I'm really sorry the ending is sort of crumby. After writing 5 poems off the top of my head, I have a headache from trying to rhyme so much. I hope you enjoy my attempts to redefine the limits of poetry.