Saturday, 10 August 2013

FrightFest & The Chinese Takeaway: A Poem

They say the arts are therapeutic. Some events are so traumatic that they get buried deep inside the dark depths of your psyche, unable that you are to face them. But the arts can help you heal the trauma, by letting you express yourself creatively and challenge those painful memories.

As we are nearing FrightFest, it is time to face my old demon, an event that occurred at last year's edition and got branded on my brain. I have only mentioned it to a few trusted people, in hushed tones, looking in the oblivion at the Lovecraft-like, unfathomable horrors that the memories conjured. Even now, nearly 12 months later, it is too raw to be openly talking about them. I could have drawn the event, I could have sung it. Instead, I have decided to write a poem about it. And I hope I will finally heal.

There once was a horror film festival
It was a world of thrills, it was a scream

But what was to happen at the interval
Tore my soul and snapped my dream

There was the usual crowd  of horror cliques
I even bumped into Tom Six

And as I sat down waiting for Tulpa
There came the offensive item that made me go aaaahhh

For here she was, the lady had brought in a Chinese takeaway
The horror, the horror, no way! I hear you say

As much as I love Chinese food
Is a cinema, for food, really the right hood?

Popcorn, hotdogs, Chinese banquets
When at a cinema, you must leave at bay

Please, festival goers, I implore you
Or I'll scoop your brain and eat the goo

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