"tourney" poems
if you drill down,
past the hair,
flesh and bone.
into my mind
where the ego
and id reside.
then turn to the left,
and follow the i.q.
down the alley,
you will find
a place.
where on thrones of
cogitating thoughts,
king big questions asked,
reigns in conjunction,
with, queen yet unanswered.
they watch with interest benign,
over a field of an eternal tourney,
split roughly down the middle
by a chasm quite wide.
on one side
of the gorge is arrayed,
the banners of philosophy.
at the vanguard,
the epistemological knights;
plato, descartes, ferrier,
kant, hume,spinoza
and bosanquet.
the major forces ride beneath the banners, of their schools of thought.
followed by the lesser lights,
and those,
obscure or forgotten,
who walk at the rear,carrying the gear and
to set the tent poles.
as to the other side,
that is given to,
the seminaries of religion;
bhuddism, taoism,
islam, hindu, juche,
rastafarian, sikh, diasporic, parsis, tenrikyo,
judaism and christianity
with all its clans.
they array themselves in cadres,
according to belief.
and to the rear,
there rides,
an interesting guerilla band,
of intertestemantals,
about 3 or 4 hundred years wide.
these are the few who are accounted for,
when god spoke nothing,
or perhaps
a lot but the message just got lost.
they number in their disparate clan,
alexander the great, ptolemy, the hellanic masses, seluecids, maccabeans, hasmoeans
and pompey the great,
not all, but the noteworthy.
across the divide,
by arrowing thought
were fought rallies of acumen
and battles of wit
and occasionally,
a persipacious fire was lit.
but there is one more player,
to mention.
apathy,
the great hulking ******
who for want of gumption, and get up and go,
sat crouched,
(quite uncomfortably so)
on a spire.
made of mediocracy,
cemented by woe,
in the iddle of the rifted abyss.
unable to decide
with which team to go.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
She is tourney,
Everyone is pat by her,
Masked man and women are in hasten
For her ………
Under the mask everyone is afraid
But their mask portrays the valour….
A chimera, a phony intrepidness……
Implore for cupidity, majestic canard …..
….. through branding …..!
Everyone is cover-up by masked branding and
skirmishing in the name of tourney !
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
#
Traveling through an ocean-like space
I'm breaking like the waves
I arrive and crush on your shores
crawl into each and every pore
I dissolve into foam
which follows a storm
The storm becomes me
I rage over rock and tree
Devastation as I take
make room for renewal and remake
I brush away home and town
these empty houses, I tear them down
no place left to hide for the hunger
shall these demons come so I can pull them under
Make them eat the dirt they keep feeding to you and me
I will make them swallow and suffocate their glee
And when darkness comes I will be thunder
lightening the sky and breaking it asunder
And through this opening you will descend
everything that has been broken you can mend
Don't despair, love, take pride in me
The force of nature you clearly see
Believe in this inner symbiosis
Create your own apotheosis
Everything is well
Even in these dark times in which you dwell
This nature will never leave you
nor will it ever betray what is true
See through the eyes of your keeper
even when you think you can't sink deeper
What you are you shall hold dear
and walk this blackness without fear
Whatever wounds you carry away from this tourney
it's worth every step of this journey
Fight until your blood runs dry
pick up your worth again and again until you die
no need to run, no need to hurry
believe in your nature and don't worry
Sleep will come eventually
until then rage against life's brevity
You stand unbowed and unbroken by your ache
and leave life in your wake
#
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 1:02 PM UTC
Find coastlines along the edges of your body,
mark your territory
and invite gallant young men to try their hand
at crossing a huge wall made of crystal glass
and steel verses.
Let them be afraid of the tombstones gathered
at the gates; tremble at their own risk
because your heart can't handle an unsteady hand:
it's filled to the brim.
And as the tourney dies down,
as the men scratch the surface
and leave with pieces of your arms,
your eyelashes, your cheeks,
there will be one
who is there when the dust settles.
Allow him to love you,
in a most consuming way; let him
take your body a shrine and let him
call it his only home.
Finally,
break his heart,
and watch as the poetry
spills out of you like
an angry river, from a spear
he wishes he'd hit into your chest
not cupid's arrow instead.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
it appears as though
there was a coup,
in kookaburra land,
this morning.
much fuss,
and cacophony.
as the brown and blue kingfisher clan, reassembled,
their royal court.
the big old king,
uncurled his talons,
unfurled his wings,
gave one last,
manical chuckle....
and fell from his perch.
to lie still,
upon the dusty,
brown earth.
shocked, silence for some seconds, and then...
the eucalypts erupted into, (what would appear to the outsider);
cold calculating mirth.
as the young jacko princes, all began the joking joust
for the top place berth.
in a melee of swooping, chuckling grace,
a contest no less,
set to test....
mettle, worth and cackle call.
each young bird,
takes to the wing and flies into the maddening...and how close,
how loud,
how startling,
they can be.
is made known,
by those,
whose years,
have flown.
when all, is said and done. tourney overflown,
feathers are preened.
then the winner
is presented,
with opportunity, bold....
to nest the queen.
as to the rest,
they take their place,
in the chaotic, cackling, cacophonous,
kookabuurra clan nests.
to bide their time,
until, the next coup,
comes calling...
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
Once a lad and growing so
Days spun and spanning into years aglow-
Vitality, vim and vigor strong
Life's sweet pathways sometimes short sometimes long-
Boy-becomes-man journey
Letting go, each, that father-son tourney
Wave spreading in the sun
Smiles scatter warmly in youth's summer fun
Breaking over life’s beach
Sharing nourishment its lessons to teach
Dreams and hopes and coping
Even during seasons pained and molting
Like a dance, almost love
Son’s own rhythm within, below, above
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
No better place but inside my dream
to leave the world and it's endless scheme
my fingers tracing violet mountains
that turn into illustrious fountains
of things I want to do with you
if you and I could ever follow us through
I wonder where I'd start my journey
Give the starting signal for our particular tourney
Getting into delicate positions
movement in passion my only mission
Sensuality comes easily
I want you to lean into me
let's be a little bit sentimental
no words needed when we become intrumental
In my dreams we hold on tight
to the endless possibilities of a night
under a cold and steady moon
Goodnight love, we'll see each other soon.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 8:09 PM UTC
always throw caution to the wind
for a life well lived, for I did not, and lived a life well-lied
always throw caution to the wind
our life in this realm is short-lived, no bigger than
the size and brevity of our divine sparks existence
always throw caution to the wind
long winters and short summers recalled on paper,
have you not realized that mere gods worship immortal men,
our gloried markers, our stories, our ephemeral skin - forever
always throw caution to the wind
jump in after it, the winds course is a buffeting, head knock heading,
breeze, gust, gale and storm, a recovery chance of chances, a tourney
where the thrill of the unpredictable toss is not a simple head or tails,
but a slot machine of innumerable outcomes randomly optimized
always throw caution to the wind
the life irregular is the normative, the outcomes always positive,
this is the only thought that should ever provoke -
be wild but not crazy, think clearly and dare define safety
on your own terms, your own odds calculating, sew your own net,,
pick your wind and as a parent, always dress appropriately
for I am still crazy after all these years
Apr 26, 2019
Apr 26, 2019 at 3:30 PM UTC
.
*Two Knights out and two Knights in,
two Knights in the tourney ring.
With a lance and sword and shield,
no quarter must either Knight yield.
With each muscle and each breath
they must fight on until death.
With mace chain and insult calls,
two Knights stand 'til one of them falls.
The white Knight is a charmer,
black Knight in polished armour,
to win a fair Princess to wed.
The white Knight is a chancer,
the black Knight is a dancer,
who will die on a grassy bed?*
© Pagan Paul (25/05/19)
Oct 22, 2019
Oct 22, 2019 at 6:25 AM UTC
i was walking on air
feeling like a blessed heir
before she punctured my ego
and freed me from my vertigo
life is a strange journey
much like a tourney
it leads you to where you began
in that dim light where creation beckons
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 5:33 AM UTC
You remind me of someone from a half remembered dream,
A silhouette from an epoch
That I have journeyed through fleetingly.
And then beside these sempiternal embers
I indulge in a pestilenntial reminisce,
Of the antiquated aeon of camaraderie
When the befuddlement inundates my anima like a swinging ragde.
I have been spooring thy sigil,
Through this deranged tourney of metampsychosis,
Only to be impelled by your unequivocal,
Benightedness surrounding my subsistence.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 10:21 AM UTC
One last night in the dungeon,
One last night to his fall,
The Earl of Grace was chained in place
To the damp of the dungeon wall.
They’d taken him at the tourney,
The knights of the Duke of Beck,
While the King had turned his face away
As they fettered him by the neck.
They’d taken his chain of office,
They’d taken his rings and seal,
The shifting tides of the time had sighed
In showing him what was real,
The King had removed his favour,
The court had looked on askance,
That final fall from a height so high
Was part of the courtly dance.
For no-one survived forever,
In that court of grim intrigue,
He’d been aligned with the prince to find
The prince was brought to his knees.
Grace didn’t have the King’s permit
To marry the Lady Grey,
And that, just one of the sins he wore
Conspired to put him away.
For Beck was stalking the lady,
The wealth and the lands she had,
Her cold response to his needs and wants
Had driven the Duke quite mad.
The prince, confined to his quarters
Was backing the Earl of Grace,
But once the marriage had come to light
The scandal had brought disgrace.
He stood in the dark, and shivered,
In the hour before the dawn,
And watched them setting the gallows up
That would take his quaking form.
Beck had wanted the axe and block
But the King had murmured, ‘No!’
‘I’ll not part him from his noble head,
But I’ll hang him, long and slow!’
The hangman came at the dawning,
Was strapping his hands and feet,
While shuffling him to the drop, he said,
‘Hanging an Earl’s a treat!’
And Beck was there to await him,
To whisper his evil spite,
‘You’ll be deep in the earth, while I
Will be with your wife tonight.’
They took their time with the halter,
Were seeming to draw it out,
When down in the court a clatter
Of knights, and an awful shout:
‘The King is dead, long live the King,’
As they rescued the Earl of Grace,
Shuffled him off the drop, and then
They hung the Duke in his place.
David Lewis Paget
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
The conscience does creep when wake feels like sleep,
But dreams could have never appeared as such steep
steep a hill as this woeful wander,
Past the dark caves of pity to where the sad fellow saunters.
With sleepless thought they wake there forever
In the coldest of knot tied apart and together.
The hollow will follow someone else on this journey.
But we stepped so careless with our caution less selves.
Made a game out of the danger. Got going a wee tourney’
Past the poets and swore we would return to their shelves.
So far out we fell of some kind of edge they swore disproven.
Now Down past the devil our story meets us at it delves.
Welcome to the world that stays still as it does its movin’ .
We scribble on each others faces the reasons for our still.
Chill burns, time turns back and forth for the sake of doing.
Have you ever filled yourself much to full upon a fill?
Have you ever dreamed a different morning sun?
Well I found pity- she was sat at the bottom of’a hill.
I begged to bring her home but she had only just begun,
She wanted to hear my head in his bedroom stirring,
But with pity it collapsed him as he heard's sad song sung.
The hill looks less steep, less frightening from the bottom.
Conscious lost himself from me as I came tumbling down.
I could have sworn Id fallen like an apple from tree to turn rotten.
Everyone who walks here, walks here with crown.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 7:34 PM UTC
After the last cottage receded I pulled out from the green grasses
Nothing was bothering my coffee Only getting colder like my heart’s paces
The one sight pricking the back of my eyes
Was of the person waving byes
Who wasn’t a friend of mine but someone else’s
They destined me the business You bolstered me then
Said just regularly get mounted On the commissioned rails
We’ll always be your men
If only you were now to witness Me when I have ran insane
As the flanging and clanking Enough of it I've had
Is only commuting me Into a division alien
And still looking out Through a misty and blue shaded pane
About to lose the bout I don’t like being alone in the journey, Ben.
Should we buy this book Ben? Jack you should read diaries and biographies
Momentarily I was with my colleagues Back in those cubic topographies
But Jack and Ben were just their namesakes Passengers as I crossed these depressive geographies
Only till pulling me where don’t know a four year old voiced Uncle will you please give me those toffees?
I candidly kept smiling as went back the kid
Of course kids don’t understand what I hid
They don’t see whether it’s December or May
They just see the tree in a different way
Anyway had to be at the corporation Couldn’t get offstage
Reaching the concerned documentation I saw the cover page
All true but my valid recognition It read I had chores of a big sage
It was beyond my cerebration Oh! Or my compatriots gave the proposition
And let me have the advantage!
You are letting me perform at a higher rank You set me sail to a farther bank
It seems I am not alone on this voyage You are with me as a special entourage
I was only being disjunctive
For I was looking with a different perspective
Knowing friends are with you in any of your tourney
I am certainly not alone in this journey
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 3:16 AM UTC
There once was a daughter of the sea god.
She was young and brave but lived with her squad.
The seven halfbloods had set on a journey.
Defeat mother nature and her tourney.
With arrows flying and blood spilling.
Everything in her mind was unwilling.
But the brave daughter took a risk,
At the end it was one hectic brisk.
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 12:45 PM UTC
It goes back histories ago, you’ve heard the stories.
Humans, born as a giant beast, uneventfully split as punishment.
That split soul became the humans we are now, two halves separate.
The story goes, life after life, their kind would search endlessly for the other half.
Destined to never unite, destined to feel incomplete for all eternity.
Our soul doomed to search endlessly until the end of time, but I know fate is in our favor, benign
If I can’t be with the rest of my sole, then I’d rather be left a hole
Their love is more than adequate, it’s a feeling that never quits
I thought I found you some time ago, but it was a selfish soul with an ego
I guess I’ll continue my search, I don’t think I can survive much longer without your perch
Thought I found you again later in my journey, but I was just a slave to a sick wretched tourney
I use to look up to the stars at night, ponder, are you too thinking of holding me tight?
No matter how much time it’s been, I will feel the same for you as I did then
It’s the way our spirit makes me feel, full enough I don’t ever need another meal
Our spiritual bond will not be forgot, we are intertwined together as a knot
I will never again let this curse leave me detain, I fight with love, not distain
Until finally, through my search I found you, without using any of my senses, I knew. you did too
I know you’ll never leave us again, our journey together has just began
I know our pain may hurt, but we’ll always rise stronger no matter how hard we hit the dirt
I’m more than jovial our souls were united, life was so hard while we were divided
I felt what you felt when we were apart, we knew something was wrong from the start
Those happy days I felt so much pain, I could feel you fighting just to keep sane
The things we’d do to one another, it would leave blood covered on each other
I searched for you my whole life, if I’m lucky enough one day I’ll call you my wife
No matter the weather, nor life as rough as leather, or as dark as the nether, as long as we are together our soul will not tether
Aug 2, 2020
Aug 2, 2020 at 3:45 AM UTC