Sir DaVied & The White Dragon

  • In memory of my friend, “piano man” David Dominy, who passed 03/05/2005. This is presented in fairy tale form, partly fact and partly fiction — but no happy ending. It is based on a brother musician, with whom I made music, and whom I loved. He was taken down by the evil, insistent white dragon. He would have been 74 Saturday. Tuesday’s dragon prompt called my attention to this older piece.

  • Original DDE™ surreal art: “The White Dragon” by: rob kistner © 11/20/24

     

    He had such a great laugh
    and talent 100 fold

    he was a keyboard wizard
    who conjured hard won magic
    on a daily basis

    riding persistent sentry
    over his mighty
    sleeping white dragon

    keeping it at bay

    protecting himself
    and loved ones
    from its ravaging fire

    the white dragon had held him captive
    for over seven years
    having overtaken him one day
    in a careless moment of weakness
    when this wizard had been foolish
    and let down his guard

    but the brave wizard
    Sir DaVied as he was known
    had again found his courage
    and fought back the white dragon
    driving it into submission
    difficult and tentative as it was

    sadly though
    the cunning dragon
    would not be held down
    and in a moment
    when the wizard’s vigilence
    had sadly waned
    the white dragon pulled Sir DaVied
    once more under his evil spell

    on this fateful day
    the wizard’s infectious laughter
    had become infected lunacy

    his beautiful dreams
    had again become dread

    as the nightmares returned
    the evil white dragon
    imprisoned the wizard
    in its dark and haunted lair

    it was reported
    Sir DaVied’s rants
    could be clearly heard
    above the bustle
    of the homeward privileged
    that passed unaware
    of the wizard’s dilemma

    the battle had raged long

    coarse rants and ramblings
    rose from the rancid shadows
    until in final desperation
    fetid hands lit the fateful fire
    that brought to boil
    the white magic potion
    of the wizard’s deliverance

    he’d slipped the cold steel
    into the froth of sweet promise
    still warm with transformation
    and drew the white magic potion
    into the glassen’d vessel
    of ultimate escape

    tied and tapped into submission
    distraught from battle
    this magical musical wizard
    impaled his demons
    with the white dragon’s dagger
    hoping the potion
    would drive back the monster

    saving himself yet again

    but not this time
    no deliverance this time

    the cunning white dragon
    broke down the wizard’s defense
    and claimed the brave wizard
    as silver-white sleep
    carried him away

    the wizard was gone

    gone on his silver steed
    for his final ride
    to the realm of no return

    now the wizard’s castle
    is in abandoned disarray

    no lights to stave off darkness

    the piano is broken-keyed
    caked with time and neglect

    no more does the wizard
    descend the marble stairs
    and glide back
    the black lacquered bench

    nor lay hands
    on the polished ivory
    to control the mighty Steinway

    no more does he confidently caress
    and coax those keys to his commands

    no more do the beautiful strains
    of the gold-framed
    spiral-string soundboard
    waft tenderly up the staircase

    nor ring gently
    in the empty atrium

    no — the wizard DaVied
    has passed

    but in my soul
    in my heart
    his spirit
    his music
    (((echoes on…)))


    Photograph by Romain Thiery

    *
    rob kistner © 2021
    revision © 2024

    Poetry at: Sunday Muse

    Poetry at: dVerse

     

    42 thoughts on “Sir DaVied & The White Dragon”

    1. A beautiful ode to the fight for life your piano man friend fought. It is always so hard to watch those we love lose that fight, but they are still beautiful warriors indeed. I love the way you did this poem Rob! Magnificent and true to his courage!

    2. A marvelous tale indeed, woven with your own special brand of magic, Rob. At the end I had to take myself to YouTube and Don McLean singing “The Day the Music Died”. It seemed appropriate.

    3. I’ve seen the needle and damage done….

      As a recovering person myself, though my dragon was different, I know how hard it is to get straight, and that dragon will try every trick in the book to get you back. He never tires of trying.

    4. This is a classic tale Rob, complete with horror mystery and the Harry Porter magic weaved into it. You cleverly ended it directly related to the prompt picture, topped all along with a fantastic write to accompany it. Perfect!

      Hank

    5. “he was a keyboard wizard
      who conjured hard won magic
      on a daily basis”

      I’d like to remember his this way

      Happy Sunday Rob

      Much love…

    6. This is masterfully penned. You have captured the fight for survival by the knight and his dragon. So sad the music has died but, his memory lives on through your words. Gone from this realm but,
      transformed in the sky world.

    7. “could be clearly heard
      above the bustle
      of the homeward privileged” – this is intriguing language, music within the music of your poem!

    8. So sad. I love this stanza:

      he’d slipped the cold steel
      into the froth of sweet promise
      still warm with transformation
      and drew the white magic potion
      into the glassen’d vessel
      of ultimate escape

      1. If the White Dragon gets its claws in you, it is a battle for life, though the longer you succeed, the better you get at succeeding… but he is always lurking, so lifelong vigilance is essential. David made it 8 years clean, and a band breakup, a night of depression … and I lost a friend, and music lost a player! 😐

    9. I missed this poem the first time around, Rob, so I’m glad you shared it again at OLN tonight. An evil dragon and a keyboard wizard – great stuff! And I love the way you incorporated Joni’s words into these lines:
      ‘he’d slipped the cold steel
      into the froth of sweet promise
      still warm with transformation’.

    10. Jung said it takes spirt to counter spirits – spiritus contra spiritus — enter the dragon’s white lair and you need vaster wings for getting back. Sorry you lost a good one.

      1. Thanks Brendan. I have a wide, deep “soul trunk” of shared memories that sparkle and dance and riff and thump and wail and crescendo and rock and laugh — and are wrapped in absolute awe. There will never be another like David. I am fortunate to have 3 of the 27 key musicians I have traveled with making music — still in my life. My drummer Gene snd I have been friends since I first recruited him in 1967 to play drums. He was 16 years old, I was 20, and just left a blue-eyed soul group I had been with since age 16. We were called the Brothers Royal, performing with the Casinos, and I was a baby.

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