Save Tellie!
When I’m not working on “One Man Is a Village,” my one-man Village People themed show that showcases the songs of Peter, Paul and Mary destined to be a huge hit in Vegas (once I get my changing times down, overcome my prudish habit of putting pants on my Indian, and work through a few kinks in the choreography --“Lemon Tree” is a particularly difficult song to choreograph from the Cop’s point of view, but would excluding the Cop from the routine only make him more conspicuous through his absence?), I like to “surf” my internet. If you don’t have an internet yet, I highly recommend that you get one. I bought mine for $600.00 from a guy outside a Circuit City and it came with literally dozens of websites. He came to my house and set it up and even removed several items from my home that might cause “electronic interference” with my new internet (such as TVs, stereos and DVD players) free of charge. I’d recommend him to you but he never did tell me his name. Over time, I have found websites that did not come with my original internet. I’m not the kind of person who would steal internet or even cable, but I figure the only reason I can get these websites is because no one else wants them, so what is the harm?

Anyway, one of the websites I stole was a poetry site that had some poems by a woman named Rose M Wise. Rose M Wise is a very, very lonely woman. She claims she can speak to “spirits” and writes really awful poetry about her encounters with them. She claims to “channel write;” the spirits speak through her as she writes, and she can do the same with drawings. Here is a sample of some of her work:


This is what a spirit drew for me
Through my hand for me to see

I know theres a meaning behind this scene
But I don't understand what it means

He tells me hes a man and hes 32
But I don't know if this is true

It looks like the drawing of a child
The lines the curves it looks so wild

He tells me hes my spirit guide
When he comes through hes by my side

I feel a sadness behind this man
I want to help him if I can

I want to tell him what is right
To go to the light and be with GOD tonight

So if your not my spirit guide
And your just a spirit that wants to hide

Listen to what I've had to say
Go to the light and you'll be okay

So I took this drawing this spirit drew
Colored it in to bring out the meaning in you


Why a spirit would choose Ms Wise as their “channel writer” is, I suppose, between the sprit and Ms. Wise. Even among the dead, there seems to be no accounting for taste. I am quite content to mock Ms Wise and her spirits from afar. Her poems, such as “They Are Here,” “Crying Spirits,” “Lost Souls,” and “I Will Find Them A Way” give me hours of high-spirited amusement. I have not been able to ascertain whether or not Ms Wise has been successful in leading any of these tortured souls to the Light, but you can’t fault the old gal for trying. The only real victims of the charade, it seems, are Ms Wise’s credibility, the world of poetry, and her helpless spirit victims.

That was until I ran across her poem “Tellie My Cat.”

I have a cat her name is Tellie
She has a big furry bellie
When she get's ready to eat
She end's up sitting down on her feet
She's getting so big she can hardly run
She look's like she could weight a ton
When you call her to come to you
You'd better be able to feed her to
She's playing with something in the air
But there's nothing ever there
It takes all she's got to jump in your lap
But that's okay she's my tellie the cat


I do wish one of her spirits would guide Ms Wise’s hand in writing, “I must take my obese cat to the vet. I must put my cat on a diet.” This isn’t so much a poem as it is an admission of neglect and animal endangerment. But Tellie’s woes don’t seem to end with obesity. No, it gets much worse. The following poem by Ms Wise is entitled “My Cat and the Spirits.”

I notice one day my cat was acting strange
She come running down the hall
Bang she hit the wall
There was a spirit behind her then she ran in to the door.
I couldn't believe it I thought I was going to fall to the floor
But then she ran back in the hall
I found her in the bathtub up against the wall
I felt so sorry for her I didn't know what to do
I just called her name tellie and said I'll help you
I know these spirits just wanted to play with her
They wanted to pet her and play with her fur
Cats can see things that we cannot
This happens to her everyday
So I know its the spirits just wanting to play


This woman is sick. Her cat is sick. Incensed as I am, I feel some poetic retaliation is warranted, for it seems to be the only non-invisible medium that speaks to Ms Wise.


If I were a spirit I would not haunt you.
I would not jump at out you and say Boo!

I would not give your cat a fright,
Or have you lead me to the Light.

Your poetry is really bad.
No wonder your spirits are sad.

Everything you write sucks,
That much is true.
Do not blame the spirits;
The lousy writer is you!

You’re a schizo-lady
With a schizo-cat;
Dumb as a post,
Mad as a bat.

Don’t write any more of this crap
That you call “poetry.”
Leave it to talented people,
Like Whitman and me!

You can’t have tickets
To my Vegas show.
To the psychiatrist
Is where you ought to go!

And put your damned cat on a diet.






http://www.paintedperfectly.com/modules.php?name=Your_Account&op=userinfo&username=spirits20