Poetry On Odyssey: Ding Dong Dead

Poetry On Odyssey: Ding Dong Dead

Dorothy skipped and hopped like a toad, her two friends stopped and went to the side, discussing their plan for her quiet demise.


I loved the story of "The Wizard of Oz" growing up and in honor of Halloween coming up, I thought I would put a creepy little twist on the classic tale. The rhyming gives it a children's book-vibe, but this is definitely not a story I would recommend reading to a toddler... unless you want to scar them for life, maybe. This is a two-part collection of poems, the second of which I will be releasing next week. Enjoy!

The Scarecrow

Walking along the yellow brick road
Dorothy skipped and hopped like a toad
until she stopped and went to the side
to hear a desperate scarecrow man cry.

"Oh please!" he wailed, screaming aloud.
"Someone please get me back onto the ground!"
Then Dorothy ran to help the poor man
and together they got his feet back on the land.

"Are you alright?" she questioned in fright.
His eyes moved fast from the left to the right.
"Oh yes," he said with tears flowing down
and his coarse straw lips turned into a frown.

"For years I tried to be free from restrain
but I was not blessed with having a brain.
If so, I might've found a way to get down
to join all the munchkins back in the town."

A thought then popped into Dorothy's head
remembering what the North Witch had once said.
"The Wizard of Oz is who you require
to fill your most pressing, desperate desire.

I'll take you there and we'll get what we need
so just follow behind while I take the lead!"
His expression soon turned from sad to gay
and together they both went on their way.

The Tin Man

Walking along the yellow brick road
the scarecrow and Dorothy happily strode
until they stopped and went to the side
to hear the wails of a lone Tin Man's cry.

"What's wrong?" they asked, approaching the man
and gave him some oil from an old rusted can.
Through creaky sobs, he showed them his chest
and then he proceeded to tell them the rest

"What I lack is a soul and some love
and so long I've prayed to the heavens above.
I'm structured and strong, and I've got some real smarts,
but what I crave most is the warmth of a heart."

The scarecrow and Dorothy looked at each other.
Surely they'd be able to take on another.
"Come with us," she said "we'll help fix your flaw.
We know of a wizard who can help us all."

And soon all three were back on the road,
singing and skipping and hopping like toads.
But with burning desire, they could hardly take it
and the tin man and scarecrow soon grew impatient.

Dorothy Must Die

Walking along the yellow brick road
Dorothy skipped and hopped like a toad
her two friends stopped and went to the side,
discussing their plan for her quiet demise.

"Are you thinking what I am?" The tin man had said.
The scarecrow looked lost, scratching his head.
"The girl has a heart and a brain!" Tin exclaimed.
"The two things we most desperately wish to gain!

Dorothy is one of the purest of souls
Why settle for silver, when you can have gold?
The Wizard is fake, and everyone knows
he's just an old man putting on magic shows!"

They looked at each other and smiled a smirk
and in both their eyes a new evil did lurk.
They caught up with her, not making a sound
then bashed her head hard and she fell to the ground.

Not yet knocked out, she let out a scream,
"Why do you do this? We're on the same team!"
She struggled to crawl on her hands and her knees
as the two were approaching with increasing speed.

Soon she was cornered, her back on a tree.
The crack in her head was starting to bleed.
They beat her with fists of metal and straw
until she was no longer breathing at all.

They ripped out her motionless heart and her brain
and looked back down at the gory remains.
Laughing they smiled, both dancing with joy
for an end had come to their successful ploy.

Popular Right Now

11 Things Psychology Majors Hear That Drive Them Crazy

No pun intended.

We've all been there. You're talking to a new acquaintance, or a friend of your parents, or whoever. And then, you get the dreaded question.

"So what are you studying in school?"

Cue the instant regret of picking Psychology as your major, solely for the fact that you are 99.9% likely to receive one of the slightly comical, slightly cliche, slightly annoying phrases listed below. Don't worry though, I've included some responses for you to use next time this comes up in conversation. Because it will.

Quick side note, these are all real-life remarks that I've gotten when I told people I was a psych major.

Here we go.

1. So are you, like, analyzing me right now?

Well, I wasn't. But yeah. Now I am.

2. Ugh so jealous! You picked the easy major.

"Lol" is all I have to say to this one. I'm gonna go write my 15-page paper on cognitive impairment. You have fun with your five college algebra problems, though!

3. So can you tell me what you think is wrong with me? *Shares entire life story*

Don't get me wrong; I love listening and helping people get through hard times. But we can save the story about how one time that one friend said that one slightly rude comment to you for later.

4. Well, s**t, I have to be careful what I say around you.

Relax, pal. I couldn't diagnose and/or institutionalize you even if I wanted to.

5. OMG! I have the perfect first client for you! *Proceeds to vent about ex-boyfriend or girlfriend*

Possible good response: simply nod your head the entire time, while actually secretly thinking about the Ben and Jerry's carton you're going to go home and demolish after this conversation ends.

6. So you must kind of be like, secretly insane or something to be into Psychology.

Option one: try and hide that you're offended. Option two: just go with it, throw a full-blown tantrum, and scare off this individual, thereby ending this painful conversation.

7. Oh. So you want to be a shrink?

First off, please. Stop. Calling. Therapists. Shrinks. Second, that's not a psych major's one and only job option.

8. You know you have to go to grad school if you ever want a job in Psychology.

Not completely true, for the record. But I am fully aware that I may have to spend up to seven more years of my life in school. Thanks for the friendly reminder.

9. So you... want to work with like... psychopaths?

Let's get serious and completely not-sarcastic for a second. First off, I take personal offense to this one. Having a mental illness does not classify you as a psycho, or not normal, or not deserving of being treated just like anyone else on the planet. Please stop using a handful of umbrella terms to label millions of wonderful individuals. It's not cool and not appreciated.

10. So can you, like, read my mind?

It actually might be fun to say yes to this one. Try it out and see what happens. Get back to me.

11. You must be a really emotional person to want to work in Psychology.

Psychology is more than about feeling happy, or sad, or angry. Psychology is about understanding the most complex thing to ever happen to us: our brain. How it works the way it does, why it works the way it does, and how we can better understand and communicate with this incredibly mysterious, incredibly vast organ in our tiny little skull. That's what psychology is.

So keep your head up, psychology majors, and don't let anyone discourage you about choosing, what is in my opinion, the coolest career field out there. The world needs more people like us.

Cover Image Credit: Pexels

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Short Stories On Odyssey: Roses

What's worth more than red roses?


Five years old and a bouquet of roses rested in her hands. The audience-- clapped away her performance, giving her a standing ovation. She's smiling then because everything made sense, her happiness as bright as the roses she held in her hands.

Fifteen now, and a pile of papers rested on her desk. The teachers all smiled when she walked down the aisle and gave them her presentation. She was content then but oh so stressed, but her parents happy she had an A as a grade, not red on her chest.

Eighteen now and a trail of tears followed her to the door. Partying, and doing some wild things, she just didn't know who she was. She's crying now, doesn't know anymore, slamming her fists into walls, pricking her fingers on roses' thorns.

Twenty-one and a bundle of bills were grasped in her hands. All the men-- clapped and roared as she sold her soul, to the pole, for a dance. She's frowning now because everything went wrong, but she has to stay strong, for rich green money, is worth more than red roses.

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