Poem : Sweet.

To some super ear-sensitive types
They may prefer sandpaper for wipes
Rather than listen to what I will mention
They treat with condescension.
They don’t care for the noise
Pots pans chainsaw noisy toys
the chug chug riff of heavy metal
Heart and stomach to unsettle

Me, with love I’ve loved it
Cause I totally got it and sometimes get it
Some people enjoy rare dimes
or stamps or cars or snorting limes
Metal’s an acquired taste one might call snobby
Others might call tasteful, says my man Virgil James Bobby.
My love of metal began a tale of two bands
Cassette tapes could count on one hands.
Some started with classic, like Zeppelin Led,
or British new wavers big Diamond Head.

I began with two bands, both long haired,
who had looks apparently parents they scared.
I learned about one from a film, Iron Eagle
PG13, watched at 12, wasn’t very legal.
One Vision was the name of the song,
Vocals, guitars, sweet Dio, nothing too wrong
Except the monster-ish imagery on their album covers
It was very too scary for my little sweet brothers.

The other band I’ve haven’t spoken of yet
Wore the sweetest spandex you’ve ever seen I bet.
They sang about the devil and how they revel
In sending him below, no snow, what they call the fire pit level.
Yep, to hell with evil is what they sang a lot
I’d save up my dollars and their albums I bought.

Dio and Stryper were the names they used
I could spend my life singing for them, I so often mused.
They’re way so cool with their operatic voices
And their taste in clothes shows some interesting choices
The guitars were heavy and the drums were thunder
They were cool long before the Office crew at Mifflin Dunder

Until one afternoon at the bookstore of the Bible
I won’t write its name to avoid legal libel
Let’s just say it was a Christian Bookstore in a little tiny town
Owned by a friendly big lady who rarely would frown.
I found a tape on VHS
Rent it for three bucks, or perhaps even less.
Twenty-four hours is what you’d get,
So I raced home quickly to watch every bit.

The movie had a name called Hells Bells
Great name, because it’s a name that grabs you and totally sells.
Sold me, I popped it in the video tape players
And started listening to the rock music naysayers.
See, this vid was about the evils of rock and roll
And how its evilness would kinda suck up your soul.
It did its job totally not well, and listening to it I felt so swell
Because for its message I totally fell,
And with pen and paper and the rewind remote
I took careful notes on the bands I should note.
Def Leppard U2 and Bon Jovi I think were a few of the many
That I went on to spend more than a pretty few penny
So Hells Bells the video helped me out a little too much
And what I mean is it got me in touch
With the super great bands I wanted to know
It helped my musical education super fast grow.
I’d rent it again and again for a night at a time
To learn more how rock and roll was a crime.

My love for Stryper at one point did peak
As many more artists I’d discover and seek.
I moved on to Prince and bohemian Queen,
Sometimes a few tracks by the weird brothers Ween.

At some point Stryper disbanded and were no more
Though they lived forever in MTV lore
But Michael Sweet decided to go it alone
Like Keith Richards if he ever went solo Roll Stone.
Mike started a tour with Jesus Northwest
With DC Talk, Newsboys, and the best of the rest

For twenty-five dollars if I remember it right
My bro, my sis and I left for the night.
We watched all the bands sing and dance and twirl around
The noise was big and the speakers had sound
Finally, the ultimate event I’d waited forever for
At one point in life I could think of nothing to want more
And when I finally saw Mr. Sweet perform,
I was a little let down by his haircut and style so norm

Nothing stands out, but he played some song
He might have played an encore, but not very long.
I guess it was fine and it was a bucket list thing,
Bruce Dickinson scream, another man sing.
I got a picture with him, I clearly can prove
Although there’s lots he could really improve.
It’s done, it’s over, though some hard stuff I love still
But not the Stryper stuff that’s run of the mill.
I’ll take some pre-Black Metallica and loud Deafheaven
As long as it’s cranked to just under eleven.
Down of a System and Soulfly’s cool too
Though not too comforting for the lambs at the zoo.

Farewell to innocence, to Dio, to Stryper and full length spandex
I’ve got something better, my wife whose nickname is Becs.
She’ll occasionally listen to metal with me
And leave after a while to let me be me.

Rock on.