the helium museleum

The Helium Museleum sits way up in the sky,
it’s a great place to visit if you’re ever passing by.

Big round letters on the side say, quote,
“For The Preservation and Presentation Of Things That Float.”

You’ll see birthday balloons with their strings still attached
and parade balloons that got away and could never be catched.

There’s a store with gifts and helium prizes
and an exhibit that explains why helium rises.

The ticket taker greets the visitors and speaks:
“You’re the first guests I’ve had in a couple of weeks.”

The ticket taker’s name is Guten D. Goss
Owner, founder, handyman, boss.

While some folks are bankers and others are hatters,
Guten’s an expert on helium matters.

“We must not have holes,” he says, “so just to be clear,
we ask that you leave all your sharp objects here.”

“And if you find your head feeling light,
Air pockets are there on the left and the right.”

“Get in there quickly if you want them to work.”
“And what if I don’t?” a little boy smirked.

Guten replied: “Another boy once, too long he waited,
He’s up in the rafters, fully inflated.”

One day it happened, that out of the blue,
the king dropped in, and the queen did, too.

All hail the king, Good King Divine,
and his beautiful queen, the Lady Ermine.

As the king made his way down the helium hall
he tripped on his robe and he started to fall.

He fell head-first, fell all the way down
landing on top of the tips of his crown.

He got to his feet and rubbed the royal chin,
then noticed a hissing where his crown had just been.

A leak.
A ... ssssssssss ... LEAK!!!

Guten D. Goss rushed to the puncture
and tried to repair it with a big glob of gunkture.

But the hole became bigger than he could fix
proving that helium and royalty don’t mix.

Guten D. Goss rushed fore and aft
telling everyone to grab a lifewaft.

The lifewafts all had just enough air
to carry people down to the ground with care.

The sight of all those lifewafts descending
thickened the sky like a swarm unending.

When everyone else had fled the situation,
Guten D. Goss stayed aboard his creation.

As the hole grew bigger and the helium rushed out,
the museleum began to tumble about.

It lurched through the sky with a terrible whoosh
like an angry goosh or a moosh on the loosh.

The museleum spun around and around
falling ever closer to the ground and the ground.

With a thud and a thunk and a thunderous thump,
it crashed to the earth in a collapsible clump.

Guten crawled out, sore but not hurt,
and found himself in a field of fresh-tilled dirt.

He saw a road and walked toward it until
he got to a sign that said WELCOME TO PLAINSVILLE.

Just at that moment a truck happened by.
He waved and the driver looked him right in the eye.

The truck pulled up and there they sat,
a red-haired lady and a one-eared cat.

The lady said, “Hey, can I give you a lift?
Looks like your balloon has done gone piffed.”

Guten got in and straightened his tie
and told her how he’d dropped from the sky.

Before the truck had gotten too far,
he remembered his manners. “And you are ...?”

“The name is Jupiter Amulet Kimono Earthquake,
but most of my friends just call me Jake.”

The truck pulled into a garage with more cats
and a sign out front that said WE FIX FLATS.

“We’re the only place open these days in these parts
I mostly fix tractors and hay-baleing carts.”

“I can patch those holes easy enough,
but that much helium? That’ll be tough.”

“But I might know some folks who if they’re willing
would be delighted to help with all of that filling.”

Jake grabbed her tools, they returned to the spot
to see where the leaks were and were not.

She set right to work and started repairing
and tried not to notice that Guten was staring.

“It won’t leak now,” Jake said proudly,
then grabbed a walkie-talkie and said into it loudly,

“CALLING ALL CLOWNS! CALLING ALL CLOWNS!
IN THE FIELD BY JAKE’S! BIG BALLOON DOWN!”

In no time flat there came a collection
of clowns arriving from every direction.

Clowns with red noses, clowns with big flowers,
clowns who could do the chicken dance for hours.

The size of the sight left the clowns quite astounded.
Then they placed their helium tanks all around it.

They worked and they worked till their tanks were depleted,
and then when the filling was finally completed,

It slowly began to lift off the land
and hovered like only a museleum can.

With help from the clowns, Guten climbed aboard it,
then turned to Jake just before he unmoored it

And said, “Would you ... could you ... can you ... might you ...”
“Come along?” smiled Jake. “Yes, I’d like to.”

Though surrounded by helium all day and all night
never had his head and his heart felt so light.

Away they a-went, higher than high,
Till they reached that particular place in the sky.

The museleum reopened – up came the crowds!
(But kings and their crowns were no longer allowed.)

Guten and Jake lived their life in the helium.
They got married, had a son, and named him ...

Weelium.

(note: this appeared in The Charlotte Writers' Club anthology, "Journey Without," in 2009.)

the way of snowflakes

a tale that concludes:

"no two snowflakes are alike."

why so? to begin ...

-----

1.

many's the winter

of shivering trees and the

snowman in the sky.

so distant a home

that echoes never reach there

before turning back.

it is there that he

christens winter proper by

dancing 'round the snow.

for when a snowman

dances, he shakes loose the snow

he's always wrapped in.

from that dancing 'round

come flecks and flakes, each the same:

perfect little dots.

(you might have heard that

no two snowflakes are alike.

that is true ... in time ...)

and not just any

dance. it takes a special dance

to send down a snow.

a slow and graceful

pirouette is all he needs

for a light dusting.

or to bring on a

good flurry, a handsome waltz

sets him a-striding.

and when he has to

get moving on a blizzard,

then it's rhumba time!

rhumba here and a

rhumba there, look out below

on a rhumba day!

and all the while he

dum-de-dums, quietly, the

only song he knows:

"it's not for me to

light all the stars, or to set

the moon in motion.

"i'd much rather turn

the lowlands white, whenever

i get the snowtion.

"no, it's not for me

to stir the seas, or bundle

the winds for blowing.

"it's only for me

to dance about, whenever

the world needs snowing."

2.

then one day he fell.

and could not rise, and did not

know to call for help.

he'd been stirring up

some flurries before taking

his rest for the night.

but he missed a step

and toppled over a

AAAHHHGREEOOOFDURRSLOMP!

or something like that.

the sky shook. the snow came hard

and then came no more.

it was the waltz that

turned into the halting waltz.

it was the last snow.

for the next winter

passed with no flecks at all, and

certainly no flakes.

the next winter, too,

and the winters twenty more

were silent and bare.

and the people would

gather and look up and wish

and go home and sigh.

it came to be called

the time that the snowman fell

and the snow did not.

3.

there then came a wind

that snatched up the many sighs

and sent them soaring.

like a lost balloon

they drifted off ... to the home

of the up-yonders.

who were all sleeping.

it's what they did all winter.

every winter.

know this about the

up-yonders, for you never

see them anywhere:

what goes in the air

is put there -- save for the snow --

by this little flock.

like the rain: fatsplats,

hissingmist, and each one of

the drops in between.

and like the rainbow:

stretched and curved, soaked in colors,

lowered into place.

just for fun, they would

dabble in dew, or form the

occasional fog.

they work in springtime,

summertime, autumntime, too,

before it gets cold.

but no fluffy snow

from them; they sleep all winter

every winter.

4.

but not this winter.

not with all those sighs making

it too sad to sleep.

the head up-yonder --

who's a head above the rest --

was the first to wake.

he nudged the others

and they hurried straightaway

to see all the sounds.

they pressed their noses

to the windows on the floor.

(how else to look down?)

"will you look at that,"

said one. "i wonder what brings

the sighs here today."

then they saw something

they had never ever seen:

no snow in winter.

"will you look at that,"

said one. "i wonder what made

the snow go away."

the head up-yonder

and another few or so

went looking for why.

they searched the clouds, took

apart the twilight, even

asked the equator.

then they came upon

him, singing in a whisper,

moving not at all.

"i can't seem to dance,"

said the snowman. "where has the

snow been all the while?"

"nowhere," said the head

up-yonder. "there is no snow."

"oh," said the snowman.

"but there must be dance."

the head up-yonder frowned, then

sent for the others.

they gathered around,

across and alongside as

well, then set to work.

"push!" "easy!" "hold!" "now!"

using all the little might

that they could muster.

when the snowman was

upright at last, he blinked once,

then began to sway.

and, looked at each

upturned face, spun a slow and

graceful pirouette.

5.

just as slowly, a

lone up-yonder in the

back began to clap.

in turn, they all joined

with him, and the clouds themselves

shuddered with the sound.

the snowman kept up

his pirouetting, the sky

swirling up in white.

as the snow darted

and scattered, it came to rest

on cold little hands.

a lone up-yonder

shook it loose and saw a flake

much unlike the rest.

he shook again and

again, with each tiny flake

much unlike the rest.

the snowman said, "aaahhh ...

why don't you stay the winter?"

the up-yonders did.

6.

and thus it is: the

snowman in the sky dances

and sings quite brightly.

while the up-yonders

gather the flakes and shape them

one by one by one.

when fashioned just so,

they are sent floating away

by cold little hands.

-----

it is written that

no two snowflakes are alike.

and now you know why.

(author's note: yes, this is made up entirely of haiku-like stanzas, 5-7-5 as syllables go)