Bryan Corbett


Van Halen With Dave - Poem by Bryan Corbett

The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Van Halen three that day:
The singers stood three to none, with but one more show to play
And then when Roth died at first, and Hagar did the same,
It seemed to all the fans that maybe Eddie was to blame

Quite a few fans got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Dave could get another chance to sing
We'd put up even money, that he'd show Eddie who was king

Now, Hagar preceded Cherone, then they tried Dave again
'Cause the former was fired, and the latter was a dead end;
So, upon the stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Dave ever coming back.

While Wolfgang took over bass, to the wonderment of all,
'Cause Michael, despised by Eddie, had to take the fall;
And when the dust had lifted, and Alex saw what had occurred,
There was Michael out at second, and Wolfgang a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
The rumors had all been true: Diamond Dave was coming back

There was ease in Dave's manner as he stepped into his place
There was pride in Dave's bearing and a smile on Dave's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt that Diamond Dave was back

Ten thousand eyes were on him as his hand reached for the mic
Five thousand tongues applauded 'cause tonight would be the night
Then while the writhing Eddie played the guitar on his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Dave's eye, and a sneer curled Dave's lip.

Then when the first new song came screaming through the Marshall stacks
Dave just stood a-listening and even turned his back
And Eddie quit playing the song, his face was turning red
'That just ain't my style, ' said Dave. 'Strike one, ' Eddie said.

From the benches, jammed with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
'Kill Eddie! Kill Eddie! ' shouted someone in the stands;
And it's likely they'd a-killed him had not Dave raised his hands.

And with a smile of Jewish charity Diamond Dave's face shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the show go on;
He signaled to the drummer, and Alex began anew
But Diamond Dave still ignored it, and Eddie said, 'Strike two.'

'Fraud! ' cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Dave and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Dave wouldn't let that song go by again.

The sneer is gone from Dave's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his mic upon the stage.
And now Eddie plays the new song, and really lets it rip,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Dave's leg kick.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Van Halen - Diamond Dave has struck out.

Topic(s) of this poem: humor


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, February 21, 2016



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