Rapunzel’s Real Hair

Rapunzel! Rapunzel!
Don't let down your hair.
The last time you did,
it gave us a scare.
Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
you should be aware
of the mangy raccoon
that's been living in there.
It's built up a nest in that ratty old mess.
How long it has been there
is anyone's guess.
The beast tried to bite me
defending it's home,
all hissing and scratching and rabies foam. 

Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
You've quite the collection
of bandaids and wrappers of every selection.
There's slightly used suckers
and other confections,
a sweet, sticky banquet
of germs and infections.
Raggedy curtains of hairy old mystery,
Littered with decades of personal history. 

Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
Don't let down your hair.
The prince wouldn't touch it -
well, no surprise there.
Attempting to climb it takes bravery rare,
until it's been washed,
nobody would dare.
It's gotten too long
and too big for the shower,
It burns with a magical, odorous power.
A greasy and smelly impossible climb,
no hands can keep hold of the slippery slime. 

Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
A piece of advice.
Shampoo and a haircut would really be nice.

-B.C. Byron
Go ahead and use my hair as a rope ladder. You may want to wear gloves, though. And stay away from the sucker – I’m saving that.
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The real Rapunzel was a gamer who didn’t want to leave the screen long enough to get a haircut or bathe. She was a legend in her time, cleaning up in all the online gaming tournaments. Locked in her tower with a top-of-the-line PC and dual 50 inch monitors, taking every character class of every game to the maximum level. A fully stocked mini fridge at her side and a gaming chair that doubled as a toilet, there was never any need to leave the seat. She had everything.

Her hair was foul, but it wasn’t the only poorly maintained part of Rapunzel. Her toenails curled around the inside of her shoes, growing back under the full length of her feett like a pair of homemade arch supports. Her crusty clothes had layers of Cheeto dust and ramen noodle broth accumulated and solidified over 4 years making her shirt and pants into a cardboard suit. Her unbrushed teeth had fallen from her mouth into the vent beside her computer desk. Her nose was left unblown through 5 colds. Her rancid breath began to coat the walls until they dripped. Her eyes could no longer focus on any object beyond the distance of her glowing screen. It was at this time that she met her dream man, GameDude597. After months of missions together and sharing all their digital items, they decided to meet in person. Rapunzel was ready for more companionship than the diseased raccoon that nested in her hair. When her gaming prince arrived and knocked on the tower door, Rapunzel found that the door would no longer open. The locking mechanism had rusted shut due to a constant exposure to moist, acrid air. She quickly ran up the stairs to her window and let her oily hair waterfall cascade to the ground. GameDude597 was never seen again. Just a pair of smoking sneakers was found beneath Rapunzel’s window the next day and the digital soul mates never got to meet in the analog world. Then someone decided to rewrite Rapunzel into something more kid-friendly and make a movie about it. Cut your hair kids.

The Benefits of Being a Tree

I'm sure that trees think very hard.
What else could they be doing?
In the years and years of standing,
Thoughts are simmering and stewing.
They ponder why the sky is blue,
Why they haven't eyes to view it.
They wonder how their thinking works,
Without a brain to do it.
They imagine places they would go,
If they had some legs to roam,
But rooted deeply in the Earth,
They're happy with their home.
I'm sure they get to know themselves
With no one else to talk to,
No interrupting buzzing phones,
Or places they can walk to.
I'm sure they've found the deeper things
That can't be seen with eyes,
And heard the softer whispered truths
That noises can disguise.
I'm glad to be the thing I am,
I wouldn't choose to be a tree,
But once in a while,
standing still
Just might be good for me.


-B.C. Byron
Sometimes, standing still is the nest way to move forward in life
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We could all use a bit of tree time. I read a science fiction book called Star Maker that was full of unusual and powerful ideas. A man leaves his body to become a traveler of the universe and meets some mind-bending creatures out there. Each alien race met in the story is vastly different from us in noth body and mind, and each presents a different perspective on our own existence. One of the more brief encounters in the book is an alien race of plant people who spend large portions of their lives rooted to their small planet’s surface, quietly soaking in the energy of their sun. They csn’t talk or watch internet videos while rooted. This frequent quiet time has a profound effect on the personalities of the plant people. I remember thinking how peaceful it would be to have several hours per day when other tasks have to be put aside. Sleep is great and so are dreams, but being wide awake while not moving is a completely different thing. This poem is a reminder to myself that doing nothing can be an important task too.

I’ve been making a little more tree time lately. A few minutes each day to just sit and do nothing at all. Not only can I feel my blood pressure lowering as I do tree time, but my mind works differently in this mode. New ideas make roots and branches connect thoughts that usually don’t go together. It’s a good way to find inspiration and get to know the inner workings of my own brain. I used to fear these quiet times. I used to call that “boredom” and when it came, I srarted frantically looking for entertainment to fill up the space. It takes practice to be still and it gets better the more we do it. It turns out that boredom ain’t so boring anymore.