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(
[sid] => 79611
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
[time] => 2005-01-12 16:48:18
[hometext] => The Tommy Gun story Poems are Available in Print.
[bodytext] => 
The other chapters in this story poem have been removed by the author due to their publication.
For more Tommy Gun visit Ghost Moth online.
Tommy Gun:
Part One:
Violent Concertos
The sun finally broke out today.
Streaming through silvery clouds
came brassy golden rays
to trumpet a new day,
a day of change that will wash over
the entire city of New York
like fat broken drums of whiskey.
Climbing thru the ghostly cemetary mist,
Tommy Gun trudges thru the tombstones
with an amber violin rattling in his grip--
his hands still sore from the kick of the machine gun.
The long night of his revenge is over.
The men who set up his father to die in jail,
and his wife and baby daughter
to be murdered in broad daylight,
are now cold as dead.
He personally shot the man responsible for it all,
until the machine gun rattled empty.
The boss of the New York mobs
is now nothing
but a buzzard's bloody ragdoll...
Tommy wrote this song just for his girls.
And he promised he would play it for them
on a day when he could tell them
everything is okay...
there will be peace.
The bad guys are gone
and there's a new boss in town;
Tommy Gun is gonna see to it
that things are made right from now on.
Tommy stares thru tired burning eyes
down at the frosted graves
of his wife, Carmen,
and his daughter,
Rosa.
He wants to tell them
everything will be okay now...
A tide of grieving tears choke the gentle words,
and the violin drops from his swollen hands
as he collapses to the ground on his knees,
demolishing the wooden instrument.
Two of his men in overcoats and fedoras,
race their grey sillhouettes thru the graves
to help Tommy back on his feet
and get him home.
To rest in peace.
~Chapter one: Sam's Song
The newsies are crawling all over the curbs
snapping caps about the big headline:
NEW BOSS IN TOWN
Everybody's talking about the young egg
with his mug in the paper,
ganged by his guns...
The same guys you see around his nightclub,
smoking their tea sticks.
The same guys you see outside the Operahouse,
guarding his wheels.
So,
Tommy Gun is the new boss of New York.
Everyone says he's our kind of guy.
He's no bunny, he's got brains.
He's sophisticated, a man of taste;
He knows Ellington, and plays the violin.
He has a heart big as a bus.
But hell,
we all know somewhere
there's a morgue filling up
with dead, bullet-ridden gangsters.
That ain't easy to do,
and from what I've been hearin'
Tommy Gun's got New York real-estate
courtesy of Chicago muscle.
His mouthpiece has already got him out of the can.
There's no evidence that will hold up in court
to convict Tommy and his men
of anything.
Leaving the papers with the same old story to tell
of how his surname was adapted
from a longer Italian name.
As if we still thought he actually invented
Thompson's machine gun.
Gimme a break...
I see I got a lotta investigating in front of me
if I'm gonna be gettin' some newspaper spinach.
If I don't report the news,
who the heck will?
"The usual, Sam?"
Marie sings to me...
"Yeah, a stack o' wheat
and a cup o' java..."
"Keys to my room?"
"I was saving that for dessert."
"Why wait,
I can tell you 'no' now and save you some time.
You better stuff this hash down your face
if you're gonna make some money this week
offa that Tommy Gun character.
Every newshawk in town is out there beatin' ya to it.
What're you gonna report on,
what size shirt he wears?"
"Yeah!
I knew one day you'd have a scoop for me.
I'll triple your tip if you can tell me his inseam too."
I banged my coffee onto the counter,
smiling up into her pale blue eyes with overjoy.
"Don't be a jester, Sam."
"I look good in tights and bells, you should see it.
Tonight?"
She slams the pancakes down infront of me.
"You're gonna be busy working tonight, Sam.
And I don't mean on your lines."
She sighs and shakes her curly blonde head.
"No more work, I just quit for you, doll.
Tommy Gun's gonna have me running his
jazz clubs now that he's busy playin' boss.
And I figure in the daytime I can rob a coupla banks.
You know, make a little extra money for
the diamond ring you been wantin' me
to put around your finger."
"I'd like to put something around your neck, Sam.
Finish your pancakes and get to work."
"Yes, ma'am."
The same old wink to her,
the same amazing wink back from her...
a gleam of sunlight twinkling like a homefire;
that goofy, gorgeous ruby smile of hers
wraps it's lips around something in my heart.
I leave the same two-bit tip.
It's gotten to be embarassing.
Everynight I stare into rings of smoke,
dreaming of her
somewhere with me.
I think we even been to the moon together.
I talk to her there as I gulp down the hooch,
only to drown in the tears
of a lonely penniless man,
worth nothing to any girl like that.
She's one in a million.
I been thinkin' about how I can change.
Not just stay clean.
I got past wrongs to right.
The guys I used to get dope from
knew Tommy Gun real well,
said he was a friendly guy;
a friend-for-life type.
I first met Tommy Gun in a speakeasy,
and he told me about his father.
Tommy senior tried to fight his way out of Sing Sing
with his bare hands, like an animal.
The guards killed him,
and Tommy junior seemed to know
there was more to it than that.
He didn't have to tell me it was a setup
even if he ever got a chance to...
Some drunk with some bad history
was lookin' at Tommy's moll,
and Tommy beat him crazy right in front of us all.
Then he sat back down
and tenderly massaged his hands.
He explained to me, "I play violin."
"Yeah, I was just gonna ask," I said,
and he laughed.
I always wanted to tell that story to Marie.
She has a great laugh.
Well, she has a great everything,
but the laugh is the one thing I can make her do
without getting myself arrested.
I'll level with you right now:
I wanna marry her.
Okay, I'll really level with you:
I sorta got it all planned out.
Wanted men are worth alot of money.
If Tommy Gun can muscle all the mobs of New York,
breaking every law known to man in the process,
I believe I can do a little muscling of my own.
And by the time I'm thru with Tommy Gun
he will be either sitting in the jailhouse
waiting for his dad's electric chair,
or he'll be full of more bullets
than all the men I know he's killed.
I step out into the streets,
smoking a gasper.
Blowing a ring.
I can see Tommy there,
begging for mercy.
But I don't play violin.
copyright 2005 the Ghost Moth
TO BE CONTINUED
To read the entire mini-series, upcoming Tommy Gun stories, and more poetry by Ghost Moth visit :
www.myspace.com/ghostmoth
Ghostmart Publishing
www.myspace.com/theghostmoth
http://ghostmothtommygun.blogspot.com/
[comments] => 10
[counter] => 482
[topic] => 43
[informant] => the_Ghost_Moth
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 110
[ratings] => 22
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => oops
)
Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
Contributed by
the_Ghost_Moth
on
Wednesday, 12th January 2005 @ 04:48:18 PM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
The other chapters in this story poem have been removed by the author due to their publication.
For more Tommy Gun visit Ghost Moth online.
Tommy Gun:
Part One:
Violent Concertos
The sun finally broke out today.
Streaming through silvery clouds
came brassy golden rays
to trumpet a new day,
a day of change that will wash over
the entire city of New York
like fat broken drums of whiskey.
Climbing thru the ghostly cemetary mist,
Tommy Gun trudges thru the tombstones
with an amber violin rattling in his grip--
his hands still sore from the kick of the machine gun.
The long night of his revenge is over.
The men who set up his father to die in jail,
and his wife and baby daughter
to be murdered in broad daylight,
are now cold as dead.
He personally shot the man responsible for it all,
until the machine gun rattled empty.
The boss of the New York mobs
is now nothing
but a buzzard's bloody ragdoll...
Tommy wrote this song just for his girls.
And he promised he would play it for them
on a day when he could tell them
everything is okay...
there will be peace.
The bad guys are gone
and there's a new boss in town;
Tommy Gun is gonna see to it
that things are made right from now on.
Tommy stares thru tired burning eyes
down at the frosted graves
of his wife, Carmen,
and his daughter,
Rosa.
He wants to tell them
everything will be okay now...
A tide of grieving tears choke the gentle words,
and the violin drops from his swollen hands
as he collapses to the ground on his knees,
demolishing the wooden instrument.
Two of his men in overcoats and fedoras,
race their grey sillhouettes thru the graves
to help Tommy back on his feet
and get him home.
To rest in peace.
~Chapter one: Sam's Song
The newsies are crawling all over the curbs
snapping caps about the big headline:
NEW BOSS IN TOWN
Everybody's talking about the young egg
with his mug in the paper,
ganged by his guns...
The same guys you see around his nightclub,
smoking their tea sticks.
The same guys you see outside the Operahouse,
guarding his wheels.
So,
Tommy Gun is the new boss of New York.
Everyone says he's our kind of guy.
He's no bunny, he's got brains.
He's sophisticated, a man of taste;
He knows Ellington, and plays the violin.
He has a heart big as a bus.
But hell,
we all know somewhere
there's a morgue filling up
with dead, bullet-ridden gangsters.
That ain't easy to do,
and from what I've been hearin'
Tommy Gun's got New York real-estate
courtesy of Chicago muscle.
His mouthpiece has already got him out of the can.
There's no evidence that will hold up in court
to convict Tommy and his men
of anything.
Leaving the papers with the same old story to tell
of how his surname was adapted
from a longer Italian name.
As if we still thought he actually invented
Thompson's machine gun.
Gimme a break...
I see I got a lotta investigating in front of me
if I'm gonna be gettin' some newspaper spinach.
If I don't report the news,
who the heck will?
"The usual, Sam?"
Marie sings to me...
"Yeah, a stack o' wheat
and a cup o' java..."
"Keys to my room?"
"I was saving that for dessert."
"Why wait,
I can tell you 'no' now and save you some time.
You better stuff this hash down your face
if you're gonna make some money this week
offa that Tommy Gun character.
Every newshawk in town is out there beatin' ya to it.
What're you gonna report on,
what size shirt he wears?"
"Yeah!
I knew one day you'd have a scoop for me.
I'll triple your tip if you can tell me his inseam too."
I banged my coffee onto the counter,
smiling up into her pale blue eyes with overjoy.
"Don't be a jester, Sam."
"I look good in tights and bells, you should see it.
Tonight?"
She slams the pancakes down infront of me.
"You're gonna be busy working tonight, Sam.
And I don't mean on your lines."
She sighs and shakes her curly blonde head.
"No more work, I just quit for you, doll.
Tommy Gun's gonna have me running his
jazz clubs now that he's busy playin' boss.
And I figure in the daytime I can rob a coupla banks.
You know, make a little extra money for
the diamond ring you been wantin' me
to put around your finger."
"I'd like to put something around your neck, Sam.
Finish your pancakes and get to work."
"Yes, ma'am."
The same old wink to her,
the same amazing wink back from her...
a gleam of sunlight twinkling like a homefire;
that goofy, gorgeous ruby smile of hers
wraps it's lips around something in my heart.
I leave the same two-bit tip.
It's gotten to be embarassing.
Everynight I stare into rings of smoke,
dreaming of her
somewhere with me.
I think we even been to the moon together.
I talk to her there as I gulp down the hooch,
only to drown in the tears
of a lonely penniless man,
worth nothing to any girl like that.
She's one in a million.
I been thinkin' about how I can change.
Not just stay clean.
I got past wrongs to right.
The guys I used to get dope from
knew Tommy Gun real well,
said he was a friendly guy;
a friend-for-life type.
I first met Tommy Gun in a speakeasy,
and he told me about his father.
Tommy senior tried to fight his way out of Sing Sing
with his bare hands, like an animal.
The guards killed him,
and Tommy junior seemed to know
there was more to it than that.
He didn't have to tell me it was a setup
even if he ever got a chance to...
Some drunk with some bad history
was lookin' at Tommy's moll,
and Tommy beat him crazy right in front of us all.
Then he sat back down
and tenderly massaged his hands.
He explained to me, "I play violin."
"Yeah, I was just gonna ask," I said,
and he laughed.
I always wanted to tell that story to Marie.
She has a great laugh.
Well, she has a great everything,
but the laugh is the one thing I can make her do
without getting myself arrested.
I'll level with you right now:
I wanna marry her.
Okay, I'll really level with you:
I sorta got it all planned out.
Wanted men are worth alot of money.
If Tommy Gun can muscle all the mobs of New York,
breaking every law known to man in the process,
I believe I can do a little muscling of my own.
And by the time I'm thru with Tommy Gun
he will be either sitting in the jailhouse
waiting for his dad's electric chair,
or he'll be full of more bullets
than all the men I know he's killed.
I step out into the streets,
smoking a gasper.
Blowing a ring.
I can see Tommy there,
begging for mercy.
But I don't play violin.
copyright 2005 the Ghost Moth
TO BE CONTINUED
To read the entire mini-series, upcoming Tommy Gun stories, and more poetry by Ghost Moth visit :
www.myspace.com/ghostmoth
Ghostmart Publishing
www.myspace.com/theghostmoth
http://ghostmothtommygun.blogspot.com/
Copyright ©
the_Ghost_Moth
... [
2005-01-12 16:48:18]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
(User Rating: 1 )
by autumngreeneyes on
Wednesday, 12th January 2005 @ 06:07:17 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| This is beautiful mothy..reminescent of all the old novels.. I'm not sure of this, but when I was writing my childrens book about the butterfly.. the artist was doing research, and a famous bug guy (can't remember what you call them..anyway, he told her to be sure and tell me that I should use the world chrysallis for a butterfly..and cacoon for moth.. that they were distinct..and there was too much misinformation about bugs and insects..LOL..in case you want to find out.. |
|
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Re: Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
(User Rating: 1 )
by Nazmythian on
Thursday, 13th January 2005 @ 07:36:54 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Like goin to the movies in my mind man !!! WOW !!! I am amazed, and impressed, and astounded, and ... and ... and .... suddenly I want a cigarette, a bag o' popcorn, and some Ju-Jubees ...
Nazzy ~ |
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Re: Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Sunday, 16th January 2005 @ 05:06:54 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
I caught your poster in some forum or another - very amusing, I must say.
As for this, i'm not sure if it's a story, or a poem, or both - but I know that it skilfully blends characterization and plot (of what has unfolded) into something that is surefire, gunsmoking entertainment.
I've tried story poems before, but (as you may have found out) I lack the consistency to finish them off, and they get me in the end.
N_F
*waits patiently for the next part* |
|
|
Re: Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Thursday, 20th January 2005 @ 09:42:38 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
I agree - this was like going to the movies in my mind - the best kind of black and white that fills your imagination with colour and life == Enjoyed this - -
|
|
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Re: Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
(User Rating: 1 )
by Vampirequeen on
Friday, 21st January 2005 @ 12:56:41 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| wow mothy this is awsome dude.I am so amaze at this ,it's like woe.anyways you have great talent keep writing. |
|
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Re: Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
(User Rating: 1 )
by eyesxcriedxout1989 on
Tuesday, 25th January 2005 @ 08:06:05 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Holy crap man...This was awesome...I've not been on here in quite a long time, and this definitly made me glad to be back...This is truly wonderful
Mason |
|
|
Re: Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
(User Rating: 1 )
by cuddlytiger17 on
Tuesday, 25th January 2005 @ 10:40:48 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Lengthy, but in the end its worth it. Humorous,
dramatic, a bit romantic, you've got it all here
Mothy. Love the ending, it kind of taunts you...
Good write. |
|
|
Re: Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Wednesday, 2nd February 2005 @ 06:51:03 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| HOLY CRAP NUTS!!!! I don't normaly care for the whole ganster thing, but this f-in' rocks! |
|
|
Re: Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
(User Rating: 1 )
by freckle on
Sunday, 6th February 2005 @ 05:41:25 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| This is great, makes me wish there was more than three parts! |
|
|
Re: Tommy Gun: The First Mini Series
(User Rating: 1 )
by Archie on
Thursday, 13th October 2005 @ 06:05:01 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| This is very good. I think you were born after your time. This would have made you rich many years ago.. I like the Casablanca feel it has to it reminicent of the 1940's and 1950's gangster movies. |
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