The Dementia Of Iyan Igma Not for Ages 3+

The Rock of Gibberish Altar
by
Iyan Igma

I burnished my armour till my fingers were sore,
And girding it on, the gods I did implore.
Confident that I could neither fail nor falter,
Much like the Moors in the Rock of Gibraltar,
I sallied-forth from my keep a maiden to woo,
And with each plodding hoof-beat, my love only grew.
I thought of her virtues that so oft were extolled,
And occasionally my heart I had to scold
For thinking what’s unbecoming of chivalry.
Through forests I ventured and down by the sea.
Scarcely did I notice—my mind was a whirl.
Oh, the things that one will do just to get a girl!
I never considered the peasants I knew,
After all, they’re hackneyed like the town where I grew.
Now after for riding for a weary week,
Quite certain that my strength had sprung a leak—
For I scarcely stopped to eat or to sleep,
And even my horse had started to weep
Like a useless vow—the chateau came into view;
And with reckless abandon towards it I flew.
But no heralds or trumpets sounded my approach;
Vaguely I saw that darkness the land did encroach.
But rather than use prudence and turn away,
I pursued my course to that chateau cold and gray.
How is it that the moat and drawbridge did greet
Me alone? No sentry stood at guard on his feet.
If I had listened to reason, instead of pride,
I would have never planted a cursed foot inside.
But my ambition for my fair lady proved strong,
And I found that my feet carried me right along.
Laying on the altar at the foot of the stair,
I saw that my maiden didn’t have any hair.
I rationalized myself to this thinking that
If she went out in public, she could wear a hat.
I bent down to give her a passionate kissing,
And that’s when I realized all teeth her were missing.
But before I could shrink back in harrowed dismay,
Her eyelids flipped open and she pulled me her way.
Her stench seeped into me like moldy osmosis;
She rudely exposed me to her halitosis.
My, how my first kiss was a brutal disaster!
Our union’d fail if built on such a pilaster.
Releasing me, she stared—and one eye was lazy.
I began to wonder then if I were crazy
To have disavowed the damsels of my home town
For this? But now the portcullis was coming down,
And, kicking and screaming, I had to drag her out.
Ladies should never throw temper tantrums or pout
Because they’re being rescued by a gallant knight.
Yet on exiting, I saw the cause of her fright.
A pitch wyrm had just swallowed my steed with a slurp,
And it turned to her screaming with a fiery burp.
Though I told her, “Don’t panic,” she seemed quite afraid.
I ran at it and hacked at its head with my blade.
I thought that it laughed as its blood rusted my sword,
As I punctured a scale, time seemed in fast forward.
The wyrm roared like the last blast from a cannonade,
Pouncing as I impaled his gnarled head on my blade.
My heirloom, this sword, snapped in two as did his pate,
Brimstone billowed forward. I moved, but was too late.
As my hair shriveled and my skin did crisp,
My damsel came near, talking with a lisp.
A mist gathered as she did ensorcell,
The sunlight perished as she worked     her spell.
My spirit was nigh to leave the planet
As she made me bite a pomegranate.
As the wave of anguish started to ebb,
I felt like a fly in her spider’s web.
The realization raised my hackles:
No princess could make such ghastly cackles.
The bite that she took made my heart falter,
For she’d married us at Hades’ altar.
“I’ll call you my pet, even if you mind.
Why is it, you ask, that you didn’t find
The princess you’d heard of lying in bed?
How could it be that you found me instead?
It’s simple really, she is my sister,
And she took pity on me, a spinster.
In my mirror we watched your approach,
And she traded you for my hen claw broach.
You’re much too handsome for her, for she’s seen
The stunning oft are self-centered and mean.
The gallant are all ruled by empty mores
Who love naught but the fame of their forays.
They think that, until they burst down their doors,
Princesses lay sleeping getting bed sores.
They come thinking true love can break the spell,
With less sense than an empty wishing well.
How can you love someone you never knew?
Are attraction and glory love to you?
And though she’s developed an apathy
To love, she does not live in misery.
She couldn’t dwell with an ignoramus.
Because they can’t get her, she’s now famous.
She asked me to guard her here to escape
The wooing of many a jackanape.
The dragon we summon most of the time
To rid ourselves of the vermin and slime.”
Just then the dragon’s corpse started to rise,
And she could sense the sheer dread in my eyes,
For I had no blade with which to combat.
Calmly she told me, “Don’t worry ’bout that.”
Her snapping fingers petrified the beast,
Until the next time they’d need him, at least.
“I was overjoyed to have made the switch.
It’s not often a knight weds with a witch.
So that you know, I am still a princess,
Just one none would marry without duress.
Despite the rumors, I am rather sweet;
I would gnaw the warts right off of your feet.”
“Charming,” I thought ruefully of my bride.
Then, she led me to her chambers inside.
“I know this is hard; to help you withstand
This night I’ll slip into something more grand.”
I saw her glow as she did imprecate,
Changing form so that we might consummate
The marriage that like Jacob I entered.
Perhaps she’s right, and I am self-centered.
“Beauty is skin deep,” the wise men have said.
I’ve seen what lies ‘neath the skin of the dead,
And it’s no muse for composing sonnets
To gorgeous dames whose hair’s trapped in bonnets.
If I e’er o’ercome the sight of her skin,
I’ll find a beautiful witch trapped within.
When I looked on her, I saw that without
The beauty of ages o’er her did sprout;
I even saw ivory when she smiled.
I’d come for a princess and been beguiled.
In the end I’d settled. ‘Twas just my luck.
When I reached for the zipper, it was stuck.