"farriers" poems
"Consider it” the courtier said to the king
"The Gods would never let the Reaper count among the battle-dead
The young and strong whom love has newly bound
As blissful newly wed”
And so it seemed!
When searching the war-torn land
No grave was found to mark the stain
Of newly wed, newly slain
Thus must they have triumphed with lovers' might
Two hearts in every lover's breast
What foe could stand the steel that love drove
To cleave helm, rend armour, sunder bone
“What mighty, fell warriors these must be
In the springtime of their love”
So spread the Courtier's revelation
The grim weaponry of devotion unmasked
The King, foes at hand and hard pressed
Now quickly formed his shock battalion of lovers
Whose brides, close as a skin to the battle, would suffer
To see Hell break loose between vows and wedding bed
Wedding parties among armourers and farriers
A wedding draught for courage
Gold bands not yet blood-warmed
On hands raised in “Adieu!”
Only through battle the taste of heaven on earth to be had
The love-zealots drove wild through the enemy to find
Among baggage train and camp kitchens
A familiar, foreign rear-guard, devoted and adoring
Who overjoyed to meet victorious warriors
And at such short notice could not countenance the worst
And, as angels, would have felled these men
With easy smiles and tender greetings
Whence came the counter-revelation
Of us-and-them and just-the-same
And wheeling, reeling heads and hearts
Turned back to battle and were condemned to mortality
The noble and sanctified were thus slain
Justice was served to kings, courtiers, lovers and mere others
And by brutal blow and fickle chance the victors wrote history
And made justice, made their heaven on earth.
Feb 22, 2011
Feb 22, 2011 at 10:26 AM UTC
Absolute authority
Does not belong here
Prostitutes of parody
Will not be strong here
Carriers of castaways
Sink in the ocean
Farriers to Far Aways
Shrug off the notion
They don’t think it
Could ever possibly
Happen to them.
Eventually, it will.
Oh how creative
Oh how imperative
it is
Irreparable damage
Has already been done
In the homes
In the brothels
They hide from the sun
Time measures distance
Between now and then
A filthy-snow Christmas
I see at the end
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC