Romulynn Tracci

Rookie (Toy Shop at the end of a cobblestone street)

Pinocchia: Favorite Children's Story And Poem - Poem by Romulynn Tracci

(For Evander Dimi Aniko)

Once upon a time at the end of a cobblestone street
Was a little toy shop called Gappettos
I remember the night - cuz the moon was dove white
And it's light made a beam through the
Window and onto the masterful hands and the wood
As he carved the slender
And smooth shapes with precious precision
That would one day be the arms and face of a doll - No, a puppet
Named Pinocchia

And the face of this doll on colorful strings
Bore the striking resemblance of a girl
He once loved - No, a girl he still loved
A girl he had given his heart to a long time ago
That girl, you should know was entrusted his heart
In fact, for that girl he had once made a box
That was shaped like a heart and inside of that wonderful box
Of this very same wood he had once placed inside
The most beautiful ring - the only key that had ever been made
To his heart and engraved on that box was a baby bird -
And the name of that girl - the love of his life was Ochia

But the means of a man in a little toy shop
Were but trinkets to her - for perhaps every man finds
At one time or another sometime in his life
That no matter how hard he might try in the end -
It was never enough - and no matter how much
Love that one has in one's eyes
In the eyes of the one that he loves he might simply appear
An idiot, a fool, a poor match - a man she could never love back
And if questioned she might simply say
As a matter of fact - in her princessly way - perhaps without
Being polite - she might say 'He's simply not right.'
And perhaps she never thought twice nor heard the
Wedding bells ring in her heart as he did
Though she opened the box, it was simply discarded
As a piece of old kindling- and she never looked round
As he watched through the glass - like the moon on
That cold winter night as his wooden heart was applied
To the fire she kept - the one that she and her family used
To cook and to keep themselves warm

No, Gappetto had no son of his own
Just a few years before he had fashioned a form
'I put too much of myself in that boy
When I made Pinocchio - this time
I shall leave not a wrinkle or scratch
I shall only put in just but the very best
And on purpose leave out all of the rest
And I'll polish and cure this wooden child of mine
Like my love her hair shall be silk and her lips like
A burgundy wine - how they'll shine!
She shall never be trapped by the makings of mine
Though tethered by strings they shall be not of twine
And in fact these colorful strings that entwine
Shall simply be made of her fears and if someday she finds
The way to overcome them then she will be
Even more than a puppet - she will be more than me!
This child, this daughter I've made
This innocent angel, this only dream
That I dream of each night, this fantastic impossible dream
I alone apparently dream of, Yes. One day everything will be right.

Pinocchia, she is all that I have and all I have left
Of the love that my heart once contained and what's left
For I saved but only the best of the best
And here sits now on the mantle- a daughter of mine
For me to remind but for her still to find

She seemed quite a marvel, and wasn't for sale
And all that had seen her - they hardly could tell
That she was a puppet and herein grew a thought
And so it was when the census was brought
That Gappetto wrote down on the forms
When they came…
'Father of one - Pinocchia' - for that was her name

In hindsight he should have known better, of course
For one day a man came up riding a horse
To investigate how a man who was poor
Could care for a child - surely, she deserved more
And this man no doubtly was subscribed to the task
By the very same wealthy family
Who had tried, but had failed, to purchase
Pinocchia who wasn't for sale
But with ways well beyond had petitioned the court
To adopt this poor child… for her own good- of course.

And they took her away, that's just what they did
She became but a gift for a child that lived
In a castle - a room made of stone
And that boy was a prince, an heir to the thrown
But raised by an evil jealous old crone
Who would always be putting Pinocchia down
For she was too perfect so she'd make the point to remind
'You're a dirty girl, Pinocchia! One day you'll find
That inside you are hollow, though you see - you are blind
To the fact that you're black - all on the inside
And no one will love you, at best- they'll be kind!

And the tears they fell- but on the inside
And a new string appeared
In the air from the fears
That this jealous old widow conspired
For Pinocchia had no way but to believe
That the lies she was told would all but
Enslave her in time

The little boy too was told just the same
In fact he didn't even know his real name
And he'd talk to Pinocchia - for he understood
And he wished she was real and not made of wood
'If only you were a real girl.' He would say,
'It must be a curse that they made you this way.
Pinocchia you are my only friend.'
And he took her with him wherever he went
'Don't listen to her! It cannot be true!
For I do not see all these bad things in you! '
And he'd laugh and he'd joke and he'd even have tea
And crumpets with Pinocchia - sometimes he'd have three!
But try as she might to keep anything down
Well it was clear that the strings were holding her down
After all she was told she was water logged wood
She believed all the lies were the truth - as anyone would!

Though she screamed inside she made not a sound
And she loved the boy too when he wasn't around
'If only I wasn't so ugly and wrong.
There must be somewhere where I belong
There must be a place for the hollow and black
For those that believe inside they are flat
For dirty girls who will never know love in their life
For the boy I am sure there's a much better life.
I'm not a princess I'm a lie through and through
Those who don't see my hollow heart are untrue
I must leave this place and be only with those
Who can see through this fanciful dress and these clothes.
I'll follow the strings! They must lead to those
Who are wise to the truth that the old woman knows
I must be with my kind for it hurts me inside
To be round with those who have nothing to hide.'

And Pinocchia pulled on her very own strings
And they lifted her out of the the castle like wings
And she fell by the moat - just over the wall and
She thought that she'd escaped the worst place of all
Now covered in dirt and there in a pile
She sat and she stared there for awhile
Till one day, by chance there came with a smile
A top hated black and blue crocodile
'Well! Well! What's a dirty girl like you doing here? '
Said the crocodile who was simply drawing her near
Pinocchia gasped - this must be a friend
For it seemed he could see her true nature and then
'She blurted I've come to be with my own kind!
For the boy I was with - well he must have been blind
I'm not who he thinks that I am - not at all
I'm not a princess. I've climbed over the wall! '
'Well, ride on my back I'll take you across.'
Now this grey haired old croc who was once known as doc
Or Detroit was once a magician and they say
His tail was a wand that no longer worked
And he had a long nail he used as a pick on a tooth and he jerked
And claimed to be able to eat thirty fish in a bite
And for twelve e-z payments he swore that he could
Find a crystal tierra - 'It's all that you need to feel good.
Jump on my back! ' He said with a smile
Sarcasm's pawn shop is right on that side
And I saw it, it's just what you need - it's a crown! '
And he cautiously looked to see who was around
And she climbed on his back
But just 'bout half way
He'd forgotten every promise he'd made
And he flipped her straight up and his teeth made a snap
And if it wasn't for that second when the light caught
The gleam of her locket and blinded him this tale
Well, it wouldn't last
For a second like a deer caught in the headlights
He paused long enough for her to see sight
Of a stone that she jumped to and soon as she went
That croc slipped away and simply complained of the time he had spent
And she made it across but with nowhere to go
She walked, no she tip-toed, right on into Sarcasm's store

Now Sarcasm didn't mind this store at all
Behind the cashier was all kinds of things big and small
Mostly things that were all part of dreams
Dreams that had faded- a graveyard for dreams
Some wide, some skinny, some tall
And there in the case behind bulletproof glass
Was a crystal tierra - simply one of a kind
Pinocchia gasped - 'Well I must make it mine!
Though I have not met my mate
I'm sure if I wear it
Somehow this curse - well then I can bear it
For I'm sure I shall always be sick of the light
But if I am unclean - I'll be queen of the night! '

Now a traders no fool - and how does he line his pockets?
Well he said 'I'll just take your dress and your locket.'

And sure as that she said 'Well? Sure!
These? They don't mean a thing!
Just give me that crown, I don't need a ring.
And like that was a sound
And I wasn't sure then
If I heard but the sound of a breaking
Or additional string

Then Pinocchia left Sarcasm's store
Though she had much less- well, she thought she had more
And she walked on until she came to a glade
Where the sun shone down on the meadow and laid
By a little red tent where she soon came to find
A piece of herself - for it's part of your mind -
Conscience, a curious creature lived there
And in a red tent spent its time without care
And Conscience was simply an eye - perched on a foot
And no one knows exactly why it was put
There but Pinocchia came to the tent and she asked
If she could lay there beside it and nobody asked 'why? '
For after all, Conscience could only see in the dark
For the light was too bright for it's eye

'I've got your back.' Said Conscience with care
And the two became friends on that day but sometimes
Though she went wherever she went and hopped on along just behind
Pinocchia would often forget
The one in the little red tent
And pay her no mind

At night, what a sight, for the stars were aglow
And there were so many that they'd light up the road
And Pinocchia laid and wondered where it all began
For surely, it started right there at the end,
Or perhaps it wasn't created at all.
'I am what I am and that's all that I am.'
But just as she said it a new fear began
For she heard something rustle - just there by the trees..
'A dragon will eat me! It will start at the knees! '
But the rustle was simply some leaves in the wind
But No, that's not where this story ends

Because out of the woods came no dragon at all
But rainbow the mouse - who was really quite small
On his head was an artisans hat that was striped
Like a rainbow with all of the colors of light
A mouse with scissors and a pile of keys
That shook as he'd walk in the midsummer breeze
And he swore that he had a key to the door
But he never knew which key opened which lock
Or really what each key, or any key really, was for

'My goodness! What's this? What do we have here?
You're a puppet with strings made simply of fear
Let me tell you bought elephants
Why they're scared of us
and we're small - see- so man that's what they don't want to discuss
It's cuz mice, well we're little and so it seems strange
But elephants use one percent of their brains
And in fact, if you keep one caught and on chains
If you simply remove them their presence remains
And in fact - see - in fact
Once replaced just with strings
See - an elephant still thinks he's still in chains!

And look at you girl, you're in ropes - see - your hopes
Man - your hopes - see - is that I might use my scissors and cut all your strings!
But I can't - see - I can't for they cannot be cut
And I have no key if you have no lock
Cuz fears - man- your fears - it hurts when it stings
But I'll tell you - man- cuz I'll say anything!

You're like an elephant - man - you're a queen
But you don't have to face yourself to be clean
You simply can't see what everyone knows
You're like the emperor without any clothes!
And elephants -man- well - see- to the blind
You never know really what they will find
For one thinks it's trunk feels like a snake
And another grabs hold of a foot by mistake
And thinks an elephant is like a tree
And another will say that he must disagree
For when he puts his hand - man- there on its side
He's sure that an elephant is just the kind
Of thing that appears like a wall - man - you see?

And we, we mice - man- we are small
But elephants fear us cuz we know it all! '

And just as quickly as he had come with advice
Rainbow was gone - that's the way - man- the way that it is - man - with mice.

'Such a strange thing to say. So abrupt, so concise'

Said Pinocchia as she pondered if Rainbow was wise
That's just when she noticed where Conscience was at
Right there bating it's eye jumping there at ther back
And at that very moment Pinocchia swore
'I'll get these strings off me - I will find a door!

And I'll find a lock and then I'll find the key
I do not want all these colorful strings.
I AM a princess, I now have a crown!
And just then one string came tumbling down
It was silver, I think, and was once attached
To her head at the top under silk piles of hair was a catch
Now free, she could see
'There are so many strings! I must be afraid of so many things! '

Gappetto, he loved her as all fathers would
He'd have made her alive if only he could
I remember he said 'I know what's missing
But I cannot give her much of this thing
And I fear she shall never know how much love I have for her or think
She's just wood and just string
Despite all my love I too, though I live
Fear I am of wood with nothing to give
And this fear even in my masterful hands
Has cursed me to only creating cursed toys
Cursed daughters and boys
Not living but wooden like me I hope she understands.'

So you see, just for note, each man has his sin
Though he shapes the wood of a new violin
That the instrument holds in itself every note
Even those that the composer himself never wrote
And though he put only inside her his best
It was he who decided to leave out the rest

Now he sat in his toy shop alone every night
Though he tried love had failed him and it doesn't seem right
He had tried once to find her but he found when he tried
That the more that he looked the more everyone lied
He was told that she too was thrown on the fire
Just to spite him - it's true- the old crone was a liar
And Gappetto, had no way of knowing her plight
As he wept in his little toy store
The one at the end of the cobblestone street
Where he worked and slept
Where he dreamed of Pinocchia each day and each night

Pinocchia walked on and on till her feet
Got caught on something pulling underneath
'It's quicksand! ' She cried and it's pulling me down'
As if there were strings below that would soon make her drown
But Pinocchia was not the type to give up
And she wrapped a string on a branch and pulled herself up
And that string broke and she found that - well you see
Sometimes hardships alone well help make one free
And she walked all the day and walked all that night
Till in the distance there appeared an odd sight

Hour the owl was gurading the fort
Round his neck was a clock he was quick to report
'I'm not a clock I'm a watchman of sorts'
But the clock round his neck was stuck on a time
'It's correct twice a day- come rain or come shine'

And the clock looked a lot like the box that was made
On it too, a baby bird, was clearly engraved
'One day I must get these strings off of me! '
'There's no time like now' Pinocchia, she agreed
'Yes, it seems if I only - well, if I only knew how'

Hour interrupted - 'There is only now!

There is no tomorrow - so it cannot be done!
In the end there are not so many - just one!
There is no tomorrow there is only now!
There never was yesterday do not allow
Yourself for a minute to think it's a task!
For you have all the answers to the questions you ask! '
Pinocchia said 'No, I'm dirty inside! '
Hour glared, 'Are you sure? I'm sure somebody lied
And Pinocchia looked straight up at the sky
And a ribbon fell down just missing her eye
No, now I'm sure that a string though colored in red
Drifted down from the master puppeteer by her head
And her arm reached up for the very first time
As if to grasp the sun as it shined
'I'm no longer afraid, I'm doubting the past!
I'm beginning to feel that the darkness won't last.
And I'm thinking that maybe I'm not really a toy!
Cuz inside I am sure that I still love the boy! '
And another string broke as she faced every fear
Until in the end there weren't any strings there!

And she thought just perhaps ' I'm not dirty at all! '
That the dirt had just been left by others was all
She wasn't hollow, wooden, or glass
Not a puppet at all if no strings were attached
'Now I see that the fears were not really my own
They were placed there upon me- they are all that I've known! '
Pinocchia raced to the castle and into the arms
Of the little boy who had always kept her warm
And there on the shelf - she glimpsed as she passed
Was a wooden box - well, it happened so fast!
It's amazing she had not noticed before
For she had passed many times before the crone's door
But she had not seen - for she only heard
On top of that box was engraved a baby bird

Could it be that the crone and his love were the same?

'Ochia? Yes! Yes! I know your name! '
The resemblance was there it had been there all the while
And the old crone appeared younger and returned with a smile
It's a name that you love and you never forget
And a life without both love and pain you'll regret
And it's true she remembers the day that they met
Though the years and misfortune, deceit, and the liars
Had blackened her heart she'd not yet set afire
The box, well, she simply had tossed in another
She had done it simply to appease her mother!

For her, since that day, no real love was to be found
And so she cursed happiness when it was around
But Pinocchia, simply just saying that name
Awoken a part of her heart once again
Ochia longed for love, true love and laughter
And she ran to the little toy shop
At the end of the cobblestone street
And into the arms of Gappetto and
They all lived there together, were married, and lived
Happily ever after

The little boy? Yes, yes.. the little boy had a name
But of course as it happened it wasn't the same
But one day he was told it just so he would know
The little boy - his name- was Pinnochio

-THE END-


Poet's Notes about The Poem

Wanted to write a little poem for my little family so I could read it at night to a kid or two. Based on a spin off of Pinocchio and inspired by the birth of my son. Dimi used to love Stinky Cheese Man so I thought I'd write a fun little story based on Pinochio and with enlightening self-help topics and sort of in the vein of Shrek.
This is the short version- the long version is a musical- part of a CD I plan to make with music and contains lots of songs that go with this- you can tell the difference between the short version and the long version because the long version has TRY POLAR BEARS in it..


-THE END-
Rainbow the mouse, Hour the Owl, Doc the Croc, and Pinocchia are trademarks of Romulynn Tracci. Copyright 2012 by Romulynn Tracci. All rights reserved. Pinocchia and Ochia are fictional characters. All similarities to anyone living or dead are simply coincidental. Currently not affiliated in anyway with Disney or Tim Burton - but wouldn't that be nice one day?

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Poem Submitted: Friday, June 1, 2012

Poem Edited: Sunday, July 29, 2012


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