Fairyland
B. K. Neifert
Copyright © 2018 B. K. Neifert
All rights reserved.
DEDICATION
I dedicate this work to Denise, Colin and Valarie. In this season of my life, I learned my most important lesson. My greatest spiritual growth has occurred from you, and I am grateful that God brought you all into my life.
I. The Hydra in the Slough
In the Slough of Despond
Lived the Hydra.
Nine heads, eight spoke wrong
One spoke vergall.
When one lie was cut
Two heads spewed all
Through bloody grime
Was the power of Natahunt.
The red spew burned raw
Into the heart
For this Dragon
Spoke lies
Ever so sharp.
Thaddeus mired through the swampy clay
Where he’d spend his worldly days.
Confronting the Hydra of Tyre
He could see the smoke billow from the fire
Lit by the Hydra’s infernal breath;
For the Hydra tried to bring one to wrought their own death.
The first head spoke,
Fright and spewed:
“You are the King of Tyre
“God will kill you!”
Thaddeus spoke with trembling words:
“A King I am not, for I’d bring my nation hurt.
“For a King I can’t be, lest my nation fail
“For a nation led by me, would be weak and frail.
“I am meek, and riddled with lies.
“In my head, Hydra, to kill me you try.”
The swamp,
With vile bugs with hooked tooth claws
Flying wasps, and centipede logs
Shivered at the Hydra’s step.
The second spoke on the first’s behest.
“You, Thaddeus, have been in hell
“Since the day you walked, and heard your knell.
“Or the day you played with fire
“And road in chariots where your beloveds fell dire
“Into the road where your sister lay;
“There you died, with them that day!’
Thaddeus said this word it’s true,
“But Hydra, are there sublime pleasures in hell
“Like writing odes so new?
“Or in hell, does a man sip on bitters
“With sweet mellow brine
“And cream poured hither?
“Does a man taste of love
“When in hell, that seems a bit much
As far as I can tell.”
The swamps’ murky brine
Swathed in the wind
Where the cat’o’nine’tails’
Brown phallus’ bent.
The third head spoke,
“But Thaddeus, you are a murderer it’s true
“For you know this in your heart
“Your sins are not few.”
Thaddeus spoke, with fear in his heart.
He heard the Hydra whisper with a bite of vomit’s tart.
“Yet, I remember no such thing
“For my hands are clean, though my ears do ring.
“A murderer I am not
“Innocent I am.
“Do not try to cast me into prison again!
“For mighty dragon
“Propt upright in blue scales
“With the heads of dragons
“And the body of quail
“Your raptor feathers preen
“From your clawed talon nails
“Your violet eyes whisper
“That you lie with your rails.”
The swamp pooled with circles of chaotic rungs
Where the circles bounced off the bladed grass’s husks.
The green breeze blew in the smell of death
As the rats swam in the muddy, murky abyss.
The fourth dragon spoke,
“Your mother hates you!”
At this Thaddeus swung,
Sprouting heads now two.
The blood spewed in horrendous clots
As a new head reared from that ugly knot.
Now the Dragon spoke
Two things to Thad
“Your mother hates you!”
And, “You have another mother my lad!”
The swamp steams rose
In the moonlit foul mess.
Thaddeus sunk into the gray foul slough’s chest.
Deep he slumped, where the hooked insects crept
The winged dragon bugs
Flew, clouds of insects.
The Fifth dragon spewed his fiery breath,
“Thaddeus, the unpardonable sin you have said!”
Thaddeus spoke, “This cannot be true!
“For it says in the psalms that to desire God is good!
“If I can but desire to love my God
“I have not committed a sin so wrong!”
The swamp’s flowers bloomed
Murky purple with yellow stamen looms.
The beetles climbed, with hooked feet and daggers
The color of black, with horns and jaggers.
“Your father, you must know,
“Is Satan himself!
“You are a child of hell
“For this you have felt!”
Thaddeus held his hands over his ears
As maggots climbed through his fingers with cheer.
“No! No! It cannot be!
“For I love my brother
“And every Christian I see!”
The Seventh dragon spoke
As the Hydra unfurled its wings;
The wings of a pheasant
And the eyes of a king.
“Your friends will betray you
“This you must know!
“For they all scheme against you
“To suck you down to She’ol!”
Thaddeus cried,
“Then I’ll forgive them this sin!
“Though they try to send me to hell
“I will love them as my own kin!
“Even if they ring my death bell!”
The eighth head spoke
Loftier than the others.
He said this bold,
For he’d heard all the others.
“The whole world hates you
“Thaddeus brother of James
“If they only knew you
“They’d make all your thoughts so vain.
“If they knew your every thought
“And your every dream that makes you gay
“They’d spurn them all, and burn them with their gaze.
“Should you try to convince the world of God
“They’d laugh at you, and reward you with sod.”
This the head spoke, as the others whispered gross
Thaddeus then drew sword from his scabbard of gold.
Across the head, that told the truth
Thaddeus, that Hydra, he now slew.
The beast fell into the miry clay.
It was dead, because he cut the head twain.
For the truth is the most cutting lie
When it is spoken to cause men to die.
Thaddeus sloughed through the Slough of Despond
Meeting Christian Bunyan at the edge of the swamp.
There Christian saw the whole ordeal
“I remember my battle with Apollyon in similar fields.
“For fight him I did
“And win I did say,
“That fantasy is right
“When it is written like this good-say.
“For a journey is like a dream
“In these glorious odes
“Of Christian’s journey
“Through the sloughs we’re all told.”
II. St. George and the Dragon
St. George, Briton’s Patron Saint
Walked through the forest
To find an enchanted lake.
Evening’s glow of blue
Llumed light purple mists;
The dark conifers loomed
Where the lake lapped up his
Armor crusted toes
Bound in leather fits;
Standing at the shore
He saw a maiden sit.
The red haired beauty
Knelt by the pond.
A face like an angel
She gazed into it with awe.
“Who is beautiful?”
She said with a soft lullaby.
“I am!” croaked a frogish man
There on a log nearby.
Hid in the tall, grained grass
Sat this prostrate frog.
It was a man St. George had passed
There croaking in violet fog.
More joined in the chorus
The sounds of men’s voices croaked.
Women joined in too
The chirp of bullfrog hosts.
“Who is interesting?”
Asked the maiden Queen Tyrus.
“I am! I am!” croaked the frogs around us.
There in the pool,
The frogs all looked and gazed
Into their reflection
They all stood so amazed.
To see the others’ reflection
Was not the game they played
For all were joined in chorus
To sing of their vanity’s fame.
“Who is talented?”
Asked the maiden Queen Tyrus.
“I am! I am!” croaked the frogs around us.
In their hunched reflections
They all saw their beauty anew.
For they were all so special
And Tyrus their Queen they viewed.
St. George was bewitched
Wondering who this woman was.
He approached her with hilt
To find the mysterious cause.
Why when she spoke
Did the frogs all sing with cheer?
What kind of thing
Is this thing found right here?
She turned her gaze at George
With plump face and blue eyes.
Gracefully she twisted
And to her feet she did rise.
“Do you see me?”
She inquired,
Glad her face was seen.
“Yes,” said St. George.
“Am I not extraordinary?”
“I am! I am!” croaked the surrounding frogs.
“No,” Said St. George, “You’re beautiful, and that’s all.”
The woman turned her head
With the severity of kings
“I am so beautiful,”
So repeated the frogs again.
“But this is so vain!”
Cried George
And at once the woman’s eyes flashed.
Her teeth became stalactites
Here mouth formed to a reptiles’ gnash.
Her belly expanded
Her body a female ape’s.
Her apebreasts swung in fury
As she readied to make George’s fate.
The surrounding frogs all cried,
“Not I, not I, not I!”
In fury the chorus croaked
For they all saw their face lost shine.
A scorpion tale
With hair like an ape’s
Hung over the beastly thing.
It flashed at St. George,
So Unsheathed he Silver Sting.
The battle continued
With parries to poisonous blow.
At once the sting was slashed off;
The stinging fleshvalve whipped in bloody flows.
Tyrus then was wroth
So grabbed St. George with claws.
She grabbed him very tight
And mauled him with her jaws.
St. George was martyred
By Tyrus that very day.
Vanity seems like an innocent sin
Until it the peoples sway.
III. Nebuchadnezzar and the Unicorn
“Stately beast
“Of the African fields
“Stronger than the stallions
“Of Arabian yields;
“Thy armor is steel
“Thy horn is ivory
“Thy feet shake the valleys
“When thy stampedes are fiery.
“How I wish to mount thee
“Noble mount of the Nethanim,”
So Nebuchadnezzar consulted his warlocks and Magicians.
This venerable king watched the beast
Trample down its sod.
With mighty feet
Its mighty paws dug
Into the dark brine
Of wet, sooty, caked mud
Where the Unicorn was tried
By men, who became cud.
The Magicians pored through libraries
Contained with truths of all times.
None but defenders of David’s Priesthoods
Could, this noble Unicorn, ride.
Nebuchadnezzar ordered his troops arrayed.
They stood in the pen, but were trampled in dismay.
The beast, mighty, roared his grunt
Goring down Nebuchadnezzar’s host
To pulp in the brown, murky, clay mud.
Blood sprayed over the pit
As the men were trampled down.
Only a Nethanim could tame this beast of Africa’s renown.
Nebuchadnezzar then used his arts
To cause the beast to fall into a deep sleep, dark.
The Unicorn, when sleeping
Was mounted uncouth.
Nebuchadnezzar the wise and venerable
Saw this was not stately nor truth.
Thus, he dismounted the steed
And then entered into the pen
With the wakened, wild beast
Ready to stand to the end.
Nebuchadnezzar did not fear
When the beast charged him fierce;
The wild beast rammed him
Over the pen’s picket, wood heaps.
Back to sleep it went
So Nebuchadnezzar could consider
What this Unicorn’s secret
Was to its charge,
Which caused the earth to fissure.
“Why does this beast never get tamed?”
Thought Nebuchadnezzar to himself
So he consulted Daniel, the wise prophet famed.
Daniel spoke, “It is the most rebellious
“Of the four footed mounts.
“Only a man stronger than itself
“Will its fierce power allow
“One to ride upon its full powered back.
“To tame the beast
“Is to break it with death.”
Nebuchadnezzar then subjected
The mount to cruel torture.
The unicorn was not domesticated
And it died for its honor.
“Daniel, I cannot subdue them
“No matter how hard I try.”
“This I know.
“For the poet who wrote
“This could not tell a lie.
“For though he wrote his story
“He did not deny.
“The Unicorn is an untamed beast
“Who only the Angels can ride.
“For a Unicorn’s rider
“Is the one whom it respects
“For when you try to break him
“He will rather die instead.
“Broom Crown New had different ends in view,
“It’s so very true, but he listened to you:
“And when writing his poem,
“A passage in vision did loom.
“For the Unicorn is untamed
“By man or by beast;
“It is an impossible feat
“To harness its strength
“For an enemies’ defeat.
“Except for a Nethanim
“It’s rider will it rend
“When the Unicorn bucks him off
“And meets the ivory horn’s dagger---
“His illustrious end.”
IV. The Red Bull
I
A Red Bull lived
In Allies’ cave
When a passerby wandered near
A shilling they gave.
The Bull hated the seed
Of all the world’s Moors.
He would charge out the opening
To murder them with horns.
The Bull loved the seed
Of all Ammon’s kind.
These pale skinned travelers
He’d bless with his dime.
One day the village
Brought the Bull a great bounty
To be rid of the Moors
Who dwelt in their county.
“Bull,” they said,
“These Moors are dirty heathens
“Destroy them all
“And we will make yours this Kingdom.”
The Bull had accrued
A fortune of wealth
From the travelers’ coins
Thrown into his swell.
So with this allotment
He purchased a spell
To hex the nation
By Ally Moab’s church bells.
Upon the laymen
He rallied with cheer
The Ammonites of Moab
He stirred into fear.
The Bull used elf mœgic
To bring from past times
The King of Ammon
Who all thought had died.
Through the idols,
Ammon made his chatter
Of a conspiracy so grand
It would make all teeth clatter.
Ammon knew the village’s previous king
Had begun to poison and burn
All the Moors he had seen.
Thus, he told the Bull this tale:
“Make the people your rule
“So far as I can tell
“Make them shelters in prison
“Where their bodies will fell.
“Lop them off like an unworthy branch
“Then say the Jews committed the miserable offense.
“For truly, we care not of any Moor,
“But will make the wealthy Jews
“The wicked demons of lore.”
Thus the rich Jews
Were said to be in league
With the Moorish Kingdoms who swelled in
To the Kingdoms of Moab’s streets.
II
A man named Little-Heart
Raised such a fuss.
For before anyone knew it
He knew who the Bull was.
He clamored in the streets
With a song of desperate strength
To tell who it was,
Who passed through the defense.
The man named Little-Heart
Stood before the giant crowds
He was neither Jew nor Moor
But he spoke with thunder aloud.
“These men are fooling you!”
Shouted that Little-Heart friend
Thus he was cast into a dungeon
Where he was heralded a great man.
From his cell he wrote odes
To tell all how the dangers would unfold.
The Bull and Ammon killed this Little-Heart.
This raised up two warriors
Who would play a secret part.
Zelek and Tavid, two grand Nethanim
Trekked for eighty years
To find the Bull and Ammon’s den.
Dug into the pits of hell
There Zelek and Tavid were sent
Fought through blithe horrors
Down to perdition they went.
What was once confined to one little town
Was a war waged across the world
With many battles renown.
Zelek challenged Ammon,
And Tavid the Bull.
After fighting through the horrors
Of many a foul ghoul.
The Bull transformed
Into his wicked self.
He rushed at Tavid
Trying to gore his belt.
Tavid grasped the Bull
Wrestling with him on the floor.
Yet, Ammon was the King
Whom Zelek first served.
Locked in a sword fight
Where steel sparked with blue torque.
Zelek and Ammon
Fought their bloody sport.
The Bull was then stabbed
In the ribs with a skewer;
The Bull raced forward,
Turning to face God’s steward.
The Bull rushed again
Wafted by Tavid’s flashing hand.
The Bull grazed his body
But another slash ripped bloody bands.
The Bull turned around
Angered at the fight
Rushed that Bull-Fighter Tavid
To be jabbed by a knife.
The Bull wafted back and forth
As Tavid drew his sword
Right through the Bull’s tower,
Blood spewed from the score.
Ammon fought Zelek
In the heat of the clash.
Crashing came a sword
But Zelek parried it back.
Zelek grabbed Ammon
By the belly-bulge-jug.
He ripped open the bowels
Letting the foul dirt unplug.
Ammon fell dead
To his bloody feud.
The war, a century old
Killed many men it’s true.
So take this ode
Listen to the words of Bulls;
What they say they mean
Don’t let yourself be fooled.
V. The Wēarl Frog
V’esti! Thou art cold to the world!
Held to your bed by the Wēarl
That slimy Frogman
Who sits upon thy chest.
V’esti, you cannot awaken from slumber
For the Wēarl’s dust drowses thine eyelids
Giving you your pleasant dreams
With wo’s nude form, and pleasant nights of skin.
At dawn, the Wēarl sits upon your chest
So you cannot move.
“Be rid of this curse,
“LORD of the heavens,
“LORD of the Earth!
“Thy wroth creature’s
“Silhouette haunts my dreams!”
In the morn, he sat upon his furnished
Brewn, staring at his idol’s pleasant face.
“This cursed thing
“Which I worship
“The God of all Christiandom
“Who shows me beautiful things!
“The True Christ has left
“Me to the Wēarl
“To sleep in woken Melancholia!”
V’esti, thou art cold to love
For you mourn the loss
Of thy beautiful dream.
To be the writer of odes
The touch of a soft woman’s love
You mourn that thy waking
Life cannot bring these things.
V’esti set thy timepiece
To waken at the dawn.
Yet, at the clock’s noisy clamor
Thou wrestle with the piece
To lower thine eyelids
To the slumber of the ethereal
World of the Wēarl.
“Mourn for your broken dreams!
“For your broken heart!
“Bond thy life with the souls
“Of others! Open thine heart to love!”
V’esti, thou could not but mourn:
Thou mourned for unheard odes;
Thou mourned for unsung songs;
Thou mourned for lonely nights.
V’esti, thy meditation upon the destitution
The bloodletting of thy soul
By the Wēarl’s cruel chains.
Soak in mourning.
Then, in Mourning do what Mourning does
To detach thine heart from what is lost for thy earthly temple.
Accept thy life is sullen
That thy soul will not taste the great joys
Thou wished thine soul to quaff.
That night, the Wēarl sits upon thine chest
So, V’esti, pray to God
In thy dreams, “LORD
“Be rid of this Wēarl!”
Awoken, V’esti , thee still be cursed by the Wēarl’s vice.
The voice of one crying in the wilderns
Spoke to thee these splendid words:
“Love again
“Let yourself be close
“For it is precious to love!”
V’esti, free thyself from this strange bond;
Reach to unknown souls
Pour out thy love.
Scolded, V’esti, thou art untouchable
I know, but reach out to the wilderns
Where the barren souls might meet thee in touched
Intimacy! Though thy love-song will grow with every biting revile.
V’esti, thou loved the wrothful lot who
Scorned thee ever so rude.
Thou love’st thine peers
For thou had been bound captive by the Wēarl’s
Vice of slumber and pleasant dreams.
With this love,
Instead of the Wēarl
Come thou V’esti boyhood’s bovine.
A sweet mother who
Gave of her milk with pleasant
Love and mother’s nurture.
This creature skips in youth;
The pleasant gallop of a heifer’s
First bow in the field
Where life is joyous.
This Angel reawakens
The past hidden joys
Of childhood’s beloved sheen.
Awake before the rising sun
The Wēarl lost power in his spell.
For a fortnight, the Wēarl fights
To drowse thou V’esti.
V’esti awake each morn,
“For you,
“Christ, I awake!”
For a fortnight
Christ awaken V’esti
Until the Wēarl’s vex
Be gone.
VI. Lumbers Slow, That Creatus of the Soul
Tony Renada hunts in the gray
Blocks of Lancaster.
A pistol holstered in his jeans.
Lumbering in his soul---
The creature of ours
Who lumbers--- The tortoise with a forest
Upon his shell. Slow it walks
Through Tony’s black forest.
The trees, dearth of leaves,
Ashen by fires kindled
From the past. That Creatus
Lumbers closer to his heart
To make it rock.
Its black scales and lockjaw snap
With every footprint.
Its eyes blaze with ignillume furnace.
Tony has but one sin
Before the Creatus reaches his heart.
Oh, black, bare forest
Once filled with amber sunbeams
Pillared across autumn leaves;
Where the eye covered Seraphim
Flew with their six wings
Now perch there owls
Dragons, a haunt of Imps
Turned dark by the fires
Of sin. Slowly the Creatus moves
With the imps upon its back
Spilling into the black forest;
The imps stoke their flames.
Their black skin and fiery eyes
Pointed hooves and black beaks
Are Creati, made by the man Tony Renada.
The choice came.
Shoot his rival in blue cloth
Or betray his threads of red.
Would he sheath his sword
Or slaughter?
The Creatus lumbers
Close to his heart.
Its black, snap jaw
Ashened by the furnace of hell
Behind it.
VII. The Succubus
Live, lovely Savannah
Merry on the meed of young loves.
There you found a suitor, Justinus
Splendid for your eyes to behold.
He vanished from their chasms
To do battle with serpents.
While gone, African Heath,
You found his form in pleasant reveries.
The Succubus then found you
With your lover’s chest in third eye.
Loves were splendid in phantasms
With lives, loves and very secrets.
Then, you fell in love
Just like Justinus so long ago.
For half a twelvemonth,
Justinus battled Lucifer himself
Nebo and the cruelty of Athena.
While the Succubus brought loves profound---
True love--- it was only love’s shadow.
When Justinus returned from combat---
His wounded heart Christ healed---
He did not know this maiden mourned for him.
Savannah lamented his long trek.
She had loves for the Succubus
Who had showed her splendid sorrows
Constructing a life with her suitor in reverie.
Like Justinus long ago, she was tormented
By splendid loves, unanswered by caress
Or human affection.
Justinus glimpsed the heath in Cedar Woods
Recognizing the Succubus’ loves.
Justinus lamented
That he never knew
But sensed the Succubus had revealed to her
A wrong life; a whole love’s lifetime lamented in waking reveries.
She was finished with his form
So the Hero who overcame Nebo, Athena and Lucifer
Saw his admirer mistreated by the Succubus
The thing he once knew in love-dreams.
The dreams were false, and she had lived her life.
He lamented it was not his.
VIII. Lola and the Zulu’s Magic
Lola, Lola, so afraid of naught
Scared of the Elvin mœgic,
Which your curious brain had sought.
The white snow fell silent
Down the blocks of Manhattan
The cars drifted by
Sending up smoke of black satin.
The scrapers raised
So tall in the sky.
High, high they raised
By good mœgic they’d rise.
So! Upon your way
You met a Zulu warrior
Whom you be dismayed
Ban’ta, who knew the Elvin
Kind’s of arts horror---
He waved his hands
To say a potion:
“Lola, Lola, so bad at all
“You cannot do a thing
“For you know you will fall!
“You’re terrible at everything
“Know this is the truth!
“A bad woman, with such sins in your youth!
“The world would not love you
“Should you ever be so honest
“That if they saw your heart
“They’d know your goodness is the tallest
“Tale of the most miserable kind.
“A good woman you’re not
“This I have divined!
“Your God is a fantasy
“Your brain is paranoid
“Your faith is such misery
“Your religion is void
“For it is the cause of your
“Miserable voice
“That you speak with such ignorance.
“Your religion is a lie
“Because of science!”
In the bedroom
Upon the lighted sheath.
The idol of the nations
Where men’s souls did evil speak.
The words on the screen
With the lit up wroth kind
Put a sour, scared hurt
Into Lola’s pure mind.
Lola was frightened
It was very true.
This was the vex
From the man so cruel.
He, the Moabite breed
Kept it a secret it’s true.
In her mind she imagined
A goat he had slewn.
With her bravery scourged by Ban’ta’s words
She felt helpless and broken by the sound of their hurt.
In her mind, she felt all was insecure
She feared his vex
Which over her head did leer.
Upon her sheath,
She did write up her words.
There the Zulu’s mœgic
In her mind’s bottom eve
Spoke his words
Though this she could not see.
One day she proclaimed the powers of hell
To all who would listen, she would tell of its spell.
Demons and succubae,
Giants and frogs,
She’d tell all her followers
To do battle by law.
“How they abuse
“And do, such wickedest of things!
“They drink man’s blood
“To conjure dragons and fairies!
“Their power is over the precious
“Of God’s cherished, good flock!
“Repent, repent, for almost all is lost!”
Lola sat upon her gallant soap box
Speaking to the multitudes
“The enemy is powerful!
“Be wary and nary of cheer!
“Be warned of the enemy
“Who is ever so near!”
Jude, brother of the LORD
Walked by one day.
“Why do you preach of the powers of dismay?”
He asked Lola, with a grumpy sigh.
Lola said, “Because a Zulu vexed me
“And said my soul will die!”
Jude, realizing his own sin was spout,
Sat upon the rock, to which he saw Lola sit now.
“Lola, Lola, do not be vexed by blithe hell.
“For such is their power, to make you believe in evil spells.
“For with them they cause you to doubt all good things.
“In your mind they turn you over
“To take all that you see,”
Lola straightened up, “How”?
Did you not hear, “Blessed are the meek
“Who are tossed to and fro?
“Torments smite their cheek
“And fall they into spirits low?
“Blessed art the spineless
“Whom Satan steals from;
“For if Satan is stealing
“You are God’s chosen one.”
“Yes.”
“Then, do you know
“That these are words it is true?
“For we call it vexation
“When words steal from you?
“For the power of hell
“Is not for the mountains to shake.
“It is to watch for the fault lines
“And claim they knew it would quake.
“For there is only mœgic
“On the wicked man’s side.
“Parlor tricks and magician’s tips
“Which are used to chide.
“They use false miracles
“Done by mœgical things
“To cause you to doubt
“God’s wondrous singing.”
Lola found Ban’ta wandering through the caves.
He spoke to her, “I will vex you again
“For you knew that I would!”
Lola said, “You have no power
“Except to cause me to doubt.
“You use cheap parlor tricks
“To imp me now.
“For my wallet is stolen
“It is because you used sleight of hand.
“You knew I would panic
“Thus you predicted I would scrape my van.
“Not only that, I see
“You messed with its steering.
“So that my brake lines would cut
“And my car would go reeling.”
Ban’ta shook his staff of shrunken heads,
“You will be destroyed!”
Lola spoke softly, “No,
“You’ll be very annoyed.
“For I don’t believe in Mœgic
“Now anymore.
“It is all the doing of humans
“Who imp my horn.
“For when I blow upon the horn of salvation
“You are there to make me think it is not His.
“For you even have friends who help you
“Torment my soul.
“I do not believe in mœgic
“Just your impish resolve.
“You try to hurt me, and slay me
“And cause me to doubt.
“You don’t use mœgic
“But sleight of hand and misdirection unsound.”
Ban’ta then spake,
A vex it was true,
“You will be completely ruined
“By my mœgic in lieu
“Of the challenge you bring
“To my mighty bands.
“Twenty shrunken heads
“I mœgically recant.”
Ban’ta spoke an evilest of curse
Yet it frightened his soul
When Lola walked away terse.
For the evil he spoke
Had on her no ill effect.
The hypnotic words
On her did not vex.
Thus Ban’ta fell prey to his own sin.
He fell on his sword
His bowels breaking within.
Thus was the end of that Zulu we all face
On the internet, an idol, that anonymous wraith.
IX. Montgomery George and the Witches Brew
Little Montgomery George
How you love to spy the whole town.
You spread gossip to the four corners
Of that wood-sprawled Utopia.
One day, you overheard
Two women’s chatter.
In a crypt they kept their prisoners
So you spied.
You, in gleeful wit,
Ran to Pastor Donaly.
There at the town’s steeple
You told the Pastor of the mœgic.
How the old sisters Boderve
Kept prisoners for the black arts.
Pastor Donaly’s ears pricked;
Only clergy could understand such mysteries
Thus, only he could rightly investigate.
The two made a slow amble to the bone yard
Where the two Boderve Sisters soothed.
Passed the mossy lake, through the crook’d trees
Where the earwigs scamper on every log
The centipedes wiggle across the dearth.
They reached a crooked house
Leaning over the marshes
Which surrounded the black lake.
Donaly’s fist crashed onto its wooden plank.
Out came a beautiful woman.
“May I ask what you want?”
“Are you a witch!”
Cried Donaly.
The woman bore her naked breast
So with it soothed a spell.
“Do I, so beautiful, look like a witch?”
“No.”
“Then be on your way
“Good Protestant Pastor.”
In the briny wood
Pastor Donaly’s eyes glew black
His teeth crooked into a spine
So his back arched like a wolf’s.
He seized the boy
Grabbing him mighty hard.
Leaving bruises upon those little arms.
Donaly rattled at the witch’s plank once more
So an old woman appeared.
“Pastor, so nice to see you again.
“I see you brought lunch!”
Pastor Donaly’s eyes wrinkled with a crooked twine.
“As always, little eavesdroppers
“Make good meals.”
The boy cried all his winds
From those pungent lungs
Yet no one appeared.
In the house the old woman prepared a stew
With carrots, celery and onion.
“It is almost time for our dinner guests.”
Said the witch.
Little George Montgomery found himself in such a fright
He clung to the ropes which boundt him
So his little fingers turned green.
A knock echoed through the wooden walls.
“Ah, our dinner guests have arrived!”
The old woman opened the door.
Stood monsters,
With horns, and wicked jowls
Fir, feathers, and impish rams’ horns
With stony teeth.
Each had a pair off marble eyes.
The fire cracked, the knives were sharpened.
George Montgomery plead for his life.
A live sheep be pulled into the room,
Where his bloody neck spewed
Upon a bucket, to be made into pudding.
There, the sheep was skinned,
Its entrails made into shapes so foul.
The boy watched
Imagining his body skinned, his blood made into pudding
His entrails made into wicked shapes,
The meat thrown into the soup.
“Now, little boy, it’s time for you to go into the soup.”
Little George Montgomery cried out with his lungs!
“LORD, help me!” George Montgomery cried.
At that, the beasts snickered,
And off came the first mask.
It was his brother. Then his sister. Then his mother. Then his friends.
The whole town found themselves in this parlor
Where Pastor Donaly laughed the most.
“Well, I hope little George Montgomery
“You learned your lesson about eavesdropping.
“You never know what mischief you will find.
“To every conversation save yours
“It is best to stay so very blind.”
X. Hayden and Jaylah
Cities sprawled above the sky
With basketball courts, and pigeons fly.
There lived two lovers
This is true
Hayden and Jaylah,
This story’s two.
There sat a man,
On a bench,
Every day,
Feeding pigeons.
His snap brim hat
His dark olive skin
His old white hair
His clefted chin;
A rather polygonal face had he
So strange, a rich man in Harlem’s street.
There he sat, every day
Feeding those pigeons
Light and gay.
Hayden and Jaylah hid their love
From all men around them
Yet it was from above.
The man once saw them
Kissing hard
Upon the courts
Of the basketball yard.
Passionate, and in love
These sixteen year olds pushed
Making dry love,
Upon the chain link booths.
The man who sat
Had himself a plan,
He’d offer them something
Right and grand.
The man one day asked the two over
Saying to them, “You two seem to love each other
“How would you like to live forever in each other’s arms?
“A love like yours would last till eternal dawn.”
The two thought it was a joke
And thus laughed away,
Yet, one night making love, passions were swayed
Jaylah said to Hayden, “What if the man were telling the truth?
“I could make love for eternity with you in this beautiful youth.”
The two approached the man, sitting on the bench
And asked him for the means by which they could spend
Eternity in each other’s wet embrace.
Was it witchcraft, or some form of devilry again?
The man said, “No, nothing so trite.
“I will just give you a piece
“Of the fruit of life.”
They, amazed, sat down for a sit
The man pulled out a horned melon
With purple seeds and yellow suit.
It was there, like banana and cucumber
The two ate, but felt no great thunder.
Thinking it was just a trick
They left their way, and made love yet again.
Soon, though, they saw they had not aged,
Enthralled by nakedness, the lovers ate
One another’s strong, passion fruit.
Yet, one thousand years past and their love waned true.
What was once love, waned to hate.
The two lived forever, for now and always.
What seemed to be the blessing most profound
Turned into a curse, the fruit of life renowned
Was built for heavenly abodes.
Not for earth, even with the greatest gifts untold.
The two hated one another sure
Hiring concubines and consorts for their love so sure.
They bore hundreds of children in the span of one thousand years.
Seven were to each other, the others weren’t so near.
With the wisdom of twenty lives,
the two became King and Queen.
Lived in the shadows, with their children as the World’s wise,
They possessed each a half of the world’s deep.
Their progeny as the leaders of all the west and east,
Were ruled by two from Harlem’s ancient, wasted streets.
Their hatred grew to such limpid peaks
That they finally erupted into a war
Which melted the world sore.
When Solomon saw the two’s blithe plight,
He said to himself, “Such foolish childs.
“I had not been tricked, but live as an Angel
“Upon the earth; I lived my short life able.
“Children of men, not even the strongest of loves
“Can endure a thousand years of hardship
“In the pains of this world’s throws.”
XI. The Myth of the Red Dragon
Xi Phong dwelt on the Chinese coast
A town with great rivers, and of rain they’d boast.
In the ocean lived the Mighty Red Dragon
Who did drink up water in mighty strong flagons.
Every year Xi’s village made sacrifice
To the Dragon’s wretched, wrothful vice;
For rain they’d bring their fairest maiden
To the Dragon to be consumed and laden.
Some years, the Dragon did not bring rain
So the Dragon’s wrath, some said, made it vain
Yet others saw that many seasons the crops grew tall
So they believed the Dragon’s power over all.
On a particular day, Xi Phong left his abode
To go on the long, winding silk road.
There traveling, he met a Persian Trader
Xi Phong told him about the Dragon’s water.
The Persian traveler, vexed, did not believe
For he’d seen a kingdom fall
By the hand of an invisible King.
For, he stood by the wall
Of Babylon---who ruled over Xi Phong
Until the Persian Kings toppled its blocks---
Seeing the hand write the death of Babylon.
It was a peculiar people’s God
Whom the Babylonians twice tried to kill;
But both times, this God gave Babylon’s king his fill.
Yet, their holy book named King Cyrus
To bring down the walls of King Tyrus.
Xi Phong thought, “Could my village be wrong
“And the waters that return to the earth be brought by this God?”
Xi Phong, along his sundry walk
Saw a puddle standing over top a bowl shaped rock.
It’s body steamed, and where did this steam go?
It looked like a cloud, which descended when there was a fog.
No cloud in the sky was seen
So Xi Phong observed the puddle that eve.
The puddle disappeared, just like water in a kettle.
Xi Phong knew there were Dragons, this he was settled.
So, unnatural powers existed on the earth
Yet, he saw that nature produced clouds with the Dragon’s dearth.
For a cloud rose above the puddle
And there in the sky, Xi Phong thought it would rise
And collect into fog, from which the rain would fall from the sky.
Nature produced the rain,
And the Persian told of God;
Could this world be built
To make clouds from water on rocks?
Xi Phong returned to his village a year after his discovery
And that the Dragon’s art was a vain misery.
That a God of a peculiar people built the Earth and stars
To make rain from the water standing on rocks.
The Serpent ascended from the waves
Xi Phong said, “You do not make it rain.”
The Serpent laughed,
“I am ancient of days,
Of course I make it rain.”
The Serpent blew steam into the heavens
And a storm gusted in when the next day ended.
Xi Phong waited, and sought to test the Dragon again.
“Dragon, in five days bring rains from the heavens!”
The people thought Xi Phong crazy and ended
But the Dragon said “I will make it rain in three days.”
Xi Phong said, “No, five days, if you have powers that you say.”
The dragon, in his massive red form, said,
“Little Xi Phong I see
“Why five,
“When I can make it three?”
Xi Phong said, “Dragon, I believe in three days it will rain
“But not in five, again I say!”
The Dragon then spoke,
“I will eat you, and then bring a flood!”
Xi Phong trembled, “Dragon, you are too mighty for me.
“But if you make it rain in five days
“We will all know your great powers be.”
The dragon lifted his tale, “I say three days
“But you say five?
“What kind of mischief is this, or guile?”
Xi Phong said, “Five days, and when it does not rain
“Leave, and never come back again.”
The dragon consented.
The third day, a flood consumed the village,
But on the fifth day, Xi Phong saw the steam lifting from the tillage.
The sun shined, and no rain fell.
It was a sunny day, and the Dragon never came back
As far as anyone could tell.
XII. The Blessed Isle
Radamanthus ruled over the Blessed Isle
Where the souls of all Philosophers went to rest.
The sun shone purple through the bulged haze
That separated land from the ocean dome above.
The land lay west of the Pillars of Hercules.
Here the Philosophers loved wisdom
With wisdom as their sport.
No bodily pleasure could be partook
No joy of tasting food
Nor the fruits of love’s pleasurable skin.
Wisdom was their sole food.
The isle was a meadow, with pleasant zephyrs
From the east; no rain, nor snow, nor harsh climate
All lived with no need for shelter.
The wildflowers grew, the grass always freshly mowed;
A love for philosophy united the whole.
It began that wisdom lay hid
In nature.
Atomists, Pythagoreans,
Evolutionists.
This knowledge pleased all.
Before this, the island was darkened
By the tyrant Pyrrho
In his black robes
Who led all men into Anarchy.
There came one wise man
Famous for questioning all.
He questioned the opinions of men
Who came to truth with no proof.
He questioned empty talkers
Who believed opinions were all a man had---
These claimed there was no truth,
So they turned the worse argument into the better.
This wise man proved that ignorance was ignorant
Through ignorance.
For by his skepticism
He proved that men did not know
If there was no truth.
The man’s pupil, when he passed
Lowered into the depths of the sea.
There he crept through the tomb of
The Sea Serpent
Deep into the ocean’s blue depths
Until his Spirit passed through the dome
Of the ocean, into the grassy plain
Where all Philosophers lay to rest.
This pupil founded knowledge;
That knowledge existed in the celestial bodies
In the form of all that is good and beautiful.
The philosophers were astounded by this;
For it was true, so they believed.
The heavens declared truth!
By this, the isle rejoiced.
Then came even this man’s pupil.
He believed truth could be found in the natural world
By observing the ants and the grass.
For meaning did not need to be from the heavens;
It could be observed on the earth.
The Philosophers were greater impressed by this wisdom.
For Three Thousand years the philosophers
Debated these three notions.
The zephyrs blew pleasantly.
The philosophers were happy,
For meaning was to be found.
They only disputed where it was found
Either on the Earth or in the Heavens.
In beauty, in earth, and in the heavens
All wisdom could be found.
After these many years
Arrived a new Philosopher.
He sunk down the depths of the sea
Past the Serpent
Walking into the paradise
Of the Isle of the Blessed.
He posited that truth must be
Found in what can be Touched
Smelt, Tasted, Seen and Felt.
The Third Philosopher
Was impressed by the man
But could not relinquish
That some truths were simply known;
They could not be observed.
Another Philosopher descended
To the depths of the sea
Where he broke through the dome
Breathing in the sweetest air
The most fragrant waters
Babbling through a river.
He said, “By truth
“Men are born good
“So men should be given their freedoms.”
Radamanthus now felt threatened;
“Do you challenge my kingly authority?”
The Philosophers all rebelled
For men were good;
They deposed Radamanthus
Stripped him of his crown.
A new philosopher descended
To the depths of the sea
Past the Pillars of Hercules
Which stood in their polished
Opalescent columns; he descended into
The Blessed Isle.
He believed truth was found in the conscience
Of men. The prevailing philosophers were gay
For they had now overcome the previous lot.
Radamanthus remembered the days of Pyrrho
When Anarchy reigned. How he consolidated
The world of the Blessed Isles.
He was pleased with the first three;
The next three Radamanthus feared.
For the first three believed in the rule of Philosophy;
These new men believed in the rule of man’s law and senses.
The upheaval arose, that the philosophers
All warred among one another
Those in favor of Radamanthus
And those in favor of Athens.
The second philosopher warned how feeble the Democracy would be
How the Rhetoricians destroyed it.
A bitter war broke out
Where the philosophers bound one another in chains.
There, the philosophers whom the new order loved
Stayed free, yet the old order were cast into the ocean.
In this dark time
Descended into the grave a new philosopher
Who hated the turmoil.
He found truth in both the new and the old.
He said, “Men, men, we must be free to choose.
“Either Radamanthus or Democracy.
“For, both have their merits, and both should be equally understood.”
Thus, the Philosophers thought, “To make a choice
“Between two worlds is good, but how do we know which is right?”
This new philosopher said, “By faith we know which is the right.
“For we cannot truly know except by choice.”
The philosophers bandt into their two camps
With the short lived peace.
The two kingdoms, Radamanthus’ and Athens
Lived side by side.
But then came a new philosopher
Unlike any philosopher the world had ever seen.
He descended into the depths with anger
Bitterness, hatred toward his God.
He arose into the Isle of the Blessed
With bitter hatred toward all.
Cursing God, he screamed:
“You fools! Do you not see, there is no truth!
“Only power!”
The camps went back to war
After their brief peace.
For a century, the philosophers warred
Placing one another in chains
Over whose kingdom would prevail.
Was it Radamanthus’, who kept
The Isle of the Blessed in peace---
For these men did not know God
So they formed their city in the grave.
Or would it be Democracy?
An order of freedom, rule of law
Men born free to think and do as they pleased;
Who sought to depose Radamanthus.
Perhaps it would be these two newcomers;
Those who chose their meaning
In the face of there being none.
The ancient philosopher Pyrrho came
And spoke, “We philosophers were content with sciences
“Though specious, for we thought we had found wisdom
“In the five elements.
“Now men find nothing.
“Was I not right?
“There is no meaning,
“Not in science,
“Nor in the heavens.
“This last man was the wisest of you all.
“There is nothing men create
“Nor do understand.
“They master themselves
“And retrieve power.
“They war, and destroy, just like you fools.
“We have searched for four millenniums
“Only to find so much strife.
“Men, in this progression
“Have destroyed the earth many times.
“I see the outcome: I believe we can know nothing,
“Not even our own value.”
The Philosophers saw
That this wisdom was inescapable.
Radamanthus exclaimed
“This world, our Isle of old, Pyrrho,
“Were wrought with the pursuit of
“Wisdom.
“You say there can be none.
“No philosophy can justify
“No invention of mankind.”
The zephyrs blew
The meadow
Was pleasant
With flowers.
The multitudes sat crestfallen.
Because four millenniums of man’s wisdom
Was demolished.
What a vain thing is philosophy.
For eternity, the zephyrs blew
Yet the philosophers sat
In silence.
Upon the Earth
Men fought similar wars.
One wisdom united all the philosophers
Now so clear.
The meaning they sought after
Did not exist with this invention of philosophy.
Pyrrho robed his dark linens
Sat in the center of the Philosophers.
“You see, it is all misery.
“For life eternal, we sit with no food
“No water, no drink
“With man’s wisdom.
“We do not thirst
“We do not hunger.
“We do not feel pain.
“We simply sit with man’s reason
“And with man’s reason
“We see nothing.
“For we are circumcised
“Of all appetites
“Except for man’s reason.”
XIII. Alexander and the Orc
Alexander, oh Alexander
Walk through the enchanted woods.
Bamboo and honeysuckle
Creep in diagonal roofs.
Slanted and dark,
The path twists and turns.
Ever walk through the forest
With the darkened bed of ferns.
Alexander stumbles upon an Orc
Bred from the Sea Monster’s soul
A wild man with skins
Manpelts he’d adorn.
The madman wore his victims
Upon that bloody coat
Wanting Alex to be his next face-skin
Or join in mischief’s host.
“Come, make mischief with me
“And I will let you live.
“Do not so, and I will have you killed.”
“No!” said Alexander,
Ready to die a cruel death.
The Orc said, “I’ll let you go free
“If you bring me someone’s head.”
Alexander bestood his ground
To leave his worried way
Believing the Orc would kill him
And leave his bowels decay.
But, the Orc shouted from the grove,
“Spy of Jezebel,
“Tell me what this man has never told!”
The spy was a creeper
Who crept through houses’ walls:
He’d dig into small holes
Like a rat he could make his body mold.
The man spied out Alex
Wondering what his secret be
Until one day he heard him praying,
“God, give a wife to me!
“For I am a virgin,
“With no mischief done
“Please, LORD
“Be faithful,
“And give me many sons!”
The spy returned with this news
That Alexander never knew a woman’s love.
So the Orc stood ready
To sway Alex to do so very much.
The Zidonian knew Alex was a virgin
So the Orc now did too.
The two were going to hurry
To break Alex with this news.
Three years passed,
Alex had forgotten the Orc.
For demons disappear in mind
When times pass ever forth.
The same Orc found him
Patient and ready to sway.
He said to Alex, “Be ready
“For I will make you a murderer this day!”
Alex said, “No!”
So the Orc caught his breath.
“Then at least lie with a prostitute
“To get rid of this shameful dread.
“For then you are a virgin no more
“And have grown so ever bold.
“Your body will have known love
“So your dreams will not be poor.”
Alex said, “It is no shameful thing to be a virgin
“Of this I know so very true.
“Now, either kill me or leave me
“I’ve had all that’s left of you.”
“Yet you are not!
“I heard it before quite true!
“A man you laid with
“In your silly youth!”
Alex trembled at the gaff
For it was quite the truth.
He had done this shameful thing
In his emboldened youth.
“The punishment is death
“To the man who does such things.”
Alex said, “It is better to die
“With open shame
“Than to hide in leagues with you.”
The Orc drew his blade
Ready to kill his “fool.”
But a Huntsman found them
Killing the Orc with a shoot.
The tip was blessed by Christ
So through the Orc it flew.
The Huntsman then said,
“This secret is safe to loose.”
XIV. Nero’s Pegasus
I
Nero, desire the world---
Hear the legend of Pegasus.
Through many caves wander
Until the winged beast is unearthed.
The bird’s power gives its rider
His fortune; to crush under him
All numerous foes.
Nero, tame the white horse
With apple and pear.
Mount the steed,
So fly into the clouds.
In Nero’s town
A Chimera’s claws
Beat down huts.
Eagle wings fold its back
With reptilian skin---
The jowls of a Leopard.
Nero, seek to test the Pegasus
In battle, to see if the famed
Legends’ verity holds.
Through the air,
The two beasts spiral.
The winged horse
Battles the Chimera mammoth.
They spiral down,
Then up, twisting down through the coves.
Their speed flees like eagles
In diving flight.
Nero, thrust a Javelin
Into the Chimera’s heart
Slaying it so the beast falls
With crumpled wings
Upon the earth.
Nero, then receive abundant gold.
Govern that town.
The king over the province
Sees this lowly governor
Popular with his people.
He marshals his army
Of threescore thousand.
Nero marshal armies
A decimate of the king’s.
Nero, fly high, sailing above the cloudfog
Which billows below the mountain gorge.
Nero bear a shield and hammer
Bashing the shield to dislodge
Mountain rock.
It falls, crushing the numbers
Coming down the narrow passe.
The rear flank routs in might
As Nero’s army climbs over
The rubble to give chase.
The king grows wroth
Yet the heroic deeds of Nero
Reach the king’s courtiers.
They scheme, stabbing the king
In his venerable back.
They place Nero upon the throne
Giving him power over all Rome and Greece.
II
After twenty years rule,
News of the Viceroy
Sesak’s defeat
By the hands of Cyrus
Reach Nero.
Pleased by the fall of his only rival
Nero invites Cyrus to dine.
Cyrus, who lifted the East
To conquer the world’s kingdom.
Cyrus had heard of Pegasus’ fame
So walks he with a procession
Humbled by his victory;
Nero throws a feast of honor
For Cyrus. Nero, display the
White horse
So that even Cyrus is amazed.
Nero rides upon Pegasus,
Flaunting with pomp his
Skills with the beastly mount.
Cyrus is not amused
The conqueror of Babylon.
High Nero flies
With his gnosis taunting Cyrus
With every tumble claiming he is the better king;
With his laurels, and the champion steed
He proceeds to fly high in the sky.
The pomp of an inferior
Who wishes to take your stead.
A Jew of renown
Draws his bow
Seeing the rightful,
Good king being mocked by a worthless man
Whose only power was a beast.
Cyrus brings down Babylon
With only his loyalty
And good graces.
Nero won his kingdom
By the power of a beast.
“King Cyrus! This miscreant
“Challenges you!
“He rides high
“Where you cannot get him
“So he squanders your pomp
“And righteous reign.
“All your father had built
“He mocks!
“This man’s only power
“Is his mount
“While you won entire kingdoms
“With thy kindly gestures!”
The arrow flies from the bow
Stinging Pegasus.
The beast rears
Throwing off its boastful rider.
Nero falls, breaking arm twain
With bloody black eye.
Nero grows cold, with his steed crippled.
Nero’s reign grows strong
Since Pegasus
Still is loyal to him.
Cyrus sees the man’s wrath growing
How he persecutes Christmen in his reign.
Cyrus marshals war against Nero.
The war, bloody, with the
Lives of hundreds plex
Lost, ransacks the world
With all of its squares
Locked in heated war.
Nero wins, in infamous war
So for one hour rules he
Over all kingdoms,
All men. For Pegasus’
Tears gives Nero the power
To predict his enemy’s war.
For the hour Nero rules all,
One hour over all flesh
Then comes a horseman
From the sky;
With the battles of Beowulf
The Battles of Arthur
The Battles of Brittos
The Battles of Cyrus
All fighting for the glory of this king;
So he descends from the clouds
And bursts Nero to dust
With pleasant winds.
XV. The King in the Forrest
Hezekiah, twain
Oaken sunbright; walk steadfast---
Lightstreams guide thy feet.
Pluck a peach, good King
Off the tree thy splendor spies.
Luscious forest green.
Quotidian walks
Hezekiah watch thy good tree.
Its twisting, tough sticks.
Terminal buds bloom;
Soon opens those green florets
With neon stamen.
Then sprouts good, lime leaves
Which shift to the forest’s shade.
Grow, leaves, to ovals.
From the twigs sprout blooms
Solid green, whitening pure.
Open, peach-mallow.
Pluck off the sweet fruit
With creamnectar citrus meed
Smooth, sweet, tart spicejuice.
The King’s joy beheld
The LORD’s good mœgic--- good, true.
Named here miracles.
XVI. Prestor John
Canto I
Glist, you swords upon the warfields
Where Moor and Saxon draw their blood.
Joash, you hearty soul, crash your steel
On Arabian blunderbuss.
There, the gray steeds of great desert might
Flood the peninsula of Spanish
War; reconquest in heated sweat
Upon Sheshak’s Moorish kingdom.
The cannonade tosses bombs down
10Upon the blackened armor’d knights.
Bloody war of Northforest might---
Southdesert marshals upon shields.
Like the Valkyrie’s war, of yor
War-bands threaten innocent blood
Where millions march across the plains
To make war upon strong kingdoms.
King Rolthgand of English isles
Saw the Moorish advance through Spain.
“Zoroasters of the desert
20“March upon our fords next: when lost,
“The Iberian Plains are theirs
“War shall then be at Albion.”
“I call forth you, Joash, tens slayer
“To beat back the Moorish kingdom;
“For Zarathustra is too strong
“A force to contend with; against
“Assyria’s King, Rezin Mād
“Jezebel Zarathustra too,
“We are unshod to destruction
30“Should these two kings gain Spanish fields.
“There is a Kingdom to the East
“Yor the great mountains of Asia
“Where lore is said of Prestor John.
“A tale wandered through the silk road
“From the basin of Chinland’s gorge
“Near the Indies of great Persia
“Of a settlement of Christians
“Who number a large, great nation.
“Find Prestor John to fight this war
40“Against the Assyrian King
“So! Queen Zidon here seen in wrath!
“King, I will find Prestor John’s lands.
“I ask for a Centurion
“To war through unknown Asian lands.
“There, I hear of Dragons, Satyrs
“Fairies, Orcs, Giants, Jackals, wroth
“Kinds of mœgicians and warlocks
“Soothsayers; parasitic kinds.
“I will need a force to survive
50“The lands to which I go, lest I
“Be destroyed by great, wroth mœgic.”
The King consendt Joash’s request
So chose he a Centurion
For the Crusade into Asia.
Among the men, Michael Justis
A righteous judge of kingly courts.
Montgomery Chase, a good squire
Who slew thirty Knights with chain mace.
Neil Brom, a warrior of renown
60Who directed a whole army
To capture Babylon’s stone heart.
Lester Goodman, a righteous king
Over the province of Scotland.
The band purchased their shining gear.
They did start into Asia’s heart.
Canto II
Centurion, walk through Dutch trees;
Tall, arboreal majesty
Looms to a paperwood village.
Centurion, rest in this town!
70Upon the horizon stood tall
A Nephilim with armor’d heels.
“What is this!” cried Michael Justis.
Giant, wither to a tall man
To meet the force in false manflesh.
The Giant, ten foot, raged self-strength:
“I heard from Zidon’s spies, Lord Joash
“Hordes are martialing to far bounds.
“They seek Prestor John’s lost Kingdom.”
Joash, clad in Damascus steel spoke.
80“Yes, Giant; I see you’re no myth.”
The Giant grumbled, with wroth spoke.
“Had you never heard of Jotunheim?
Justis, clad in warcloth and mail---
“Columbo proved our world a sphere
“How be there a world below worlds?”
The Giant swelled in mighty throws:
“Your whole world spins on Satan’s ring.
“There, the worldplex sets, with earth
“Floating like dust in a diamond.
90“Your world is nothing more than gold
“To barter with in the true earth.
“Beyond True Earth is Jotunheim
“Below, the famed land of Giants.”
Justis quivered upon his boots:
“The world truly is Satan’s?
“He wears us as costly jewels?”
The Giant sought to kill with words:
“You, and many plex oth’ worlds.”
A doubting Thomas from the ranks:
100“How is God able to exist?”
The Giant’s wrath grew greater still:
“There is no God, thou little man.”
Justis, in a quiver of strength:
“The Biblical account is true?
“Zarathustra simply hides it?
“Our world is a giant’s ring?”
Joash could not stand the ill deceit.
“Justis, he is a gross giant!
“Judge right! They only know to lie!
110“The world would be wont to hate
“God for this wisdom; ‘tis nonsense!
“We grasp straws with pining answers!
“God wishes us to believe them---
“Prince Charles’; Columbo’s science
“For love believes all things, my friend!”
Justis took strength; heeded this ward.
“Giant, if what you say be true,
“That there be no God, then fight me!
“Master of the Doubting Castle!
120“Should you kill me, then you be right.
“Should I kill you, then you be wrong!”
The Giant’s breadth girdt the skywave
Where the feet of the Nephilim
Broke the town to tiny splinters.
Justis drew his sword, tiny splint.
The Giant’s spiked sole crashed downward
Upon the place where Justis stood.
Justis somersaulted away.
For one day, the Giant swung club
130But Justis was too small to hurt.
The sun shone bright, so Justis blindt
The Giant with steel of his sword.
The Giant grew wroth, without sight.
A knoll caught his armored thumbtoe
Where the Giant fell, impaling
Himself upon the tallest oak.
The Giant, immortal, pushed off;
Save his giant heart, naught kill’d him.
Justis saw the Giant’s steel wedge;
140With the might of Nethanim grasped
Stuck the Giant upon the back
Causing its heart to stop beating.
Justis, slayer of Nephilim---
“Could we fly on a Giant’s ring?”
Joash spoke these true words. Hark reader!
“Justis, God is proven by tor.
“With wisdom we shall be called fools.
“With God’s strength, our joyful patience
“Through numerous trials proves God.
150“If the world be flat, round; swirl
“On Satan’s finger in wroth lies
“Then understand God is greater.
“For men do not know with wisdom.
“Men know by kindness; grace abounds.”
Canto III
Forests, through many months walk they
The one hundred marching crusade
Through the European green lands.
The ingress to Asia lay here
The Balkan lands, where twice battle
160Opened into heat: deceiving.
Through the lands, snow, heat, trekked miles
Over mounts, through valleys, across
Kingdoms, into the Balkan steppes
Where light shod by cloud blankets all.
Walk, Centurion, through Asia
To the Balkan lands’ black forests.
A woodflute sings slow melody.
Who is this riding upon stags?
Beautiful woman, with gold hair;
170Sweet face like spring’s cool, charming beams,
She rides upon the stag, with reigns
Of snakes, clothed in white draping lace.
Justis saw her from the eye’s flesh
Falling instantly in strong love.
Joash spoke, “Do not be fooled by her.
“She rides on deer with chain’d serpents;
“There is something wicked in her.”
Justis had fallen far too deep.
Saddled he his goodly, rouge steed.
180Joash implored him to walk strong will’d.
Yet, Justis, the venerable judge
Knew love the highest, good ideal.
So, he began to sing sad ode
Of love for the Somodiva.
“Love must be sought with my whole, devoted heart.
“For when love is found, a fool from it departs.
“Understand, Joash, my Lord, I must chase the doe.
“Once begun, love who has here had its strong start
“Must be preened, and pruned, like the finest of the arts---
190“Strong rhapsody! This true love even once known!
“To the pull of silver moon, whom I, tides cart.”
Justis fled his hundred good men
With steed’s melancholy jostle.
There, warrior, enraptured by love
You ride through the forest searching.
He tracked the stag’s prints to black pond
Where the nude form of a woman
Bathed in the murky lake, ides shown
Her beautiful bosom of Champagne.
200Her gown lay upon a rockbed
In chivalry he picked it up.
“Maiden, come out of the pond now.
“Sit under the leaves, and speak love
“To my sad ears, beloved wood nymph.”
The woman stood, full nude here borne,
“Now that you have my white garments
“I must be your bride, kindly knight.
“Yet, if I find my white garments
“I shall leave you, and kill you dead.”
210Justis hid the garments soon yor
Taking the wo to be his bride.
He made love to her the first night
Giving splendid cover to him.
The next day lumbered a lifetime.
The wo bore him two more childs.
With the lace white hidden where naught
Would ever find; the Eve opened
Her womb to loves. Without rest sought
She the garment, before his eyes.
220Reminded the Somodiva she
Would leave once her garments then found.
Ten days, ten lives, crept in sorrow.
The woman searched for her white gown.
Twenty days passed, twenty lifetimes
‘till Justis was vex’d, thus quarrel’d:
“It is in the lake, you harlot!”
Pleased, the Somodiva vanished.
Michael waited with three childs
Whom he loved with a pure, strong heart.
230“My little ones, whom I love strong
“With the great loves of rearing faith
“In tiny little girls; cute
“With button nose, wavy hair, love!
“The age of childgarden’s lust
“For all life’s small and pure pleasures.”
Four days the woman disappeared
So Justis left with three daughters.
There, he found the wo frolicking
With others of her kind, cloth’d white.
240Seeing him, they used strong gnosis
To make him play the wooden flute.
There, he played for lifetimes’; for them.
“Play us, Justis! We want music!”
Finally, when tired with him
They took out a poison dagger
Scratching him upon the white back.
There he died, so they plunged the three
Childs born to the Somodiva.
Canto IV
Glimmer Istanbul, Babylon’s
250Whore--- Our troop marched into your streets.
Exporter of the world’s goods
Where Silk Roads pass great commerce.
Wolves carried goods upon their backs
To and fro the world’s corners.
Upon them dawned silk, copper, gold
Delicacies, spice, devices
All manner of Earth’s beloved goods.
That Whore, Queen of Babylon’s roads,
Saw Joash’s troop enter the walls.
260There, Joash’s men spied the temple
Of Christiandom, overtaken
By the Turkish Zoroasters.
The troop quartered for the nightbreak.
Babylon’s Daughter showed herself
To the men, with veiled, gorgeous face.
Joash spoke to her: “We come with war
“To Zidon. We have no quarrel
“With Babylon’s ancient kingdom.
“Assyria and Zidon war
270“With the Christian realms above them;
“We come to enlist help from the East.”
The Daughter of the Whore then spoke:
“I do not care; enjoy our treats
“For we shall provide you with all
“Great furnishes of kings; all are
“Kings who come to Babylon.”
The wolves brought all delicacies.
“Here,” spoke the Princess, “I bring gifts!
“A mirror which satisfies all
280“Desire--- love, joy, fellowship
“Even the pleasure of soft skin
“The pleasure of endless savors
“The pleasure of safe adventures.”
Each man gazed into their mirror
Lost upon their own reflections
So they made love, ate dainties, liv’d
Grand lives in their strong, vivid dreams.
Joash declined the stone, peering deep
Into his men, who grew so gaunt
290Some even starved to bonedeath.
Joash peered over the balcony
Of his lavish room. Sophia stood
With purple and red banners hung
Within a mauve mist; fine streets of
Paved sandstone; pillars and traffic.
Joash returned to his men, seeing
Them perishing upon the floor
With innumerable pleasures
Reflected in the stone mirrors.
300Babylon’s Daughter then appeared.
“Eat, drink, be merry, tomorrow
“You die, Joash. My father has grown
“Wary of your Asian crusade.”
Joash gathered his strength, to martial
His last remaining loyal troops.
Forty-three survived, as Joash freed
Them from the curse of the mirror.
He pulverized each to fine dust
Mixing it with fragrant oils
310To light the dust to burnished flame.
The men woke from the hex, broken
Gaunt, not knowing they had been lost
To the idol’s world for days.
The troop set off, so woke the wolves.
The wolves, who were elves in disguise
Transformed into manbeasts, biting
At the troop. The battle began.
Ten troops hacked the front, slicing paws
Ripping through the wolves’ jowls with pike.
320The wolves scratch’d and bit strong tears through
The men; none perished. Shields bashed through
Jaws snapped, blood trickled down the steel.
Then Babylon’s daughter emerged;
She unveiled her face, turning three
Men to fiery clouds of dust.
One of the shields shewn Babylon’s
Flawless face to herself; she fell
In deep love with her reflection.
The troop fought through Istanbul’s walls
330As many wolves were slain in tor.
The host of wolves gave chase through lands
Until all were slain by the troop.
The harrowing battle left wolves’
Husks lay from Istanbul’s brass gate
To the mighty Elburz snowwalls.
Canto V
In the Elburz, rest you meek troop.
Lo! Sky, the sun orbits the peak.
Night darks the south; day lights the north.
The forty wonder at the sun.
340Joash now sung a strong prayersong:
“LORD, peace you give me
Though my adversaries grow strong.
Though they seek my life
With cunning, and do strike my animal
With curse. To, to strike them
My hand stays its course
To forgive the ones desolate in the wilderness
The wilderness’s desolation
Who walk the veiled ones of mine infirmity.
350LORD, battle is martialed against your anointed
Your servant, Oh LORD, whom You have chosen
For Your Name’s sake.
Enemies of God seek to steal my life
To cause my heart to curse you:
LORD, enemies seek to destroy my soul
Yet they shall not prevail.
LORD, though the moon’s bounds will never be broken
So is like Your steadfast love concerning Your servant.
Your Servant Whom You have stricken
360Stricken, and healed.
Strong war is martialed against me
Strong enemies from the North
Who desire to steal my soul
And drag it down to the grave.
LORD, be my shield and armor
For my wounds bless Thou with this song:
‘LORD of the heavens, to, to
‘Be Yours is great honor
‘Honored am I to be Yours.
370‘Your tents I desire above fine gold
‘Gold and maidens of kings
‘Majesty; I desire Thy majesty above all.
‘LORD, keep me from the paths of the desolate waster
‘Who lurks at my gates, at my gates does Cain lurk
‘To kill his brother, whom I see, yet am blind.
‘Take from me my soul to heaven’s gates
‘To witness your towers of carbuncle
‘And your spires of Sapphire
‘The river of God, which spans the width
380‘From Zion, flowing from Thy temple.
‘Keep me in peace, so I may see my windows of Agate
‘And be at peace with my wisdoms
‘Stored up for Your wrath against a wicked people.
‘None stood before you, before you none stood
‘To win the battle at the gate.
‘So, You accomplished it,
‘In the Angel of Your presence.
‘LORD, redeem Your servant Israel!
‘Let Zion’s walls be bastioned
390‘And its works of gold be strong!’”
In the sky fled the lorn Ramgrouse.
It pecked all the earth for good seed
To spread in Sheshak’s large kingdom.
There, the Whore mingled it with swords
Of Angels, to make barren seed.
The bird would thus fly hither-fro
To spread the barren seed around
To cause men to worship the Whore.
The ancient bird, with square forehead
400Flew, with the wings of a wroth bat.
“Men, fought we skeptic, vain woman
“The Whore’s filthy commerce of Kings.
This Creatus we face, desolate
Is the waster of man’s culture
Who sends out vain seed through the Earth.”
The troop built siege-works from the trees;
Their axes heard in the valleys.
The sun swirled days about them
Top that crest, with northday; southnight.
410“Does this bird here control the sun!”
Cried Brom, wroth at the bird’s mœgic.
“Nebuchadnezzar uses craft
“To cause drought and famine; ‘tis false!”
The Ramgrouse, atop mountain peaks
Spread good seed over Sheshak’s lands.
The mingled seed it brought all else.
The sun flamed, but was an image
Hung in the bill of the male Ramgrouse.
The false sun clung to its stone beak
420The birds’ nest, which shone a furnace.
The siege-works mounted the edgelands
Readied, then sprung, a deep splinter.
She dove, dove, dove, down, down, down, wroth
Pecking at the men who threw shaft;
She grabbed with her talons, eating
Four from the hilltops. Swallowed. Up
She went to feed her young with them
In birdvomit, blood, peach manflesh.
Brom drew the siege-work, to beat down
The fowl who flung her winged shadow
430Across the entire mountain.
A shaft flung, the size of a tree.
Clip the Ramgrouse’s tail feathers!
The bird could not fly, and crashed
To the mountain. “An avalanche!”
The Male dropped his young with clamor
So! The true heavens were now shown.
The male, with crestfallen crest, fell
Crashing to the Elburz. Shift snow.
The quake jostled the whole world.
440The male died, for its mate was slewn.
The troop of thirty left their war
With the thief of the world’s seed.
Canto VI
Stand, statue of Ammon, bronze god.
Beneath him labor the four castes:
Religion, tradesman, labor; Lo!
Governing, the four Aryan
Castes. All myth, boasts Ammon, find roots
In their fanatical heartminds.
His religion, says scholars, roots
450All other Whitemen religions.
It was Sheshak’s mythology
Whom Ammon boldly had stolen
With prowess: they forged strong myth
So that Homer, Grimm, Beowulf
The Norseman, and even Christ’s death
Belonged to the Ammonite race.
Long, tirelessly, spun minstrels
Specious tales of Crucifixion
Which work’d volumes for the people.
460All was Ammon’s, for the minstrels
Said so--- all authority rest
In casuistry, validate
By others of likeminded souls.
The Swastika banners feld red
Black and white, as myths burned through all.
The march of Sheshak’s mythos
Spread to the world’s four corners;
For all was incorporated
470Into one, grand mythology
Whom the peoples believed rung true
To enslave the Moor, kill the Jew
Raise Ammon. Lies spread when desired.
The Thirty troop entered Ammon’s
Kingdom, at India’s strong heart.
Christ, said pseudo-mythologists
Belonged to them--- The Jews stole Him.
Ammon glid down the temple stairs.
“What have thou to in India?”
480Joash spoke: “Fabled King Ammon Ra
Of the Ammonite’s West Kingdom
Here in India we know your lies.”
Ammon, with the pomp of small kings:
“News came by way of Tarshish boats
“That you seek Prestor John’s war-aid.”
Joash spoke with rose humility.
“To win our battle, we must find.”
Ammon opened his mouth, splendid:
“We will join thou; Moors are not pure.
490“We will make them our eternal slaves.”
Joash, embarrassed by the false god:
“Faithful king, we should not ally
With you for a moment. Your dread
Fills the world with your wrong schemes.”
Ammon, seeing Joash’s red, raged:
“Why not, when we share common foe?”
Joash, inspired by the Christ’s breath:
“Your race is mythological
“Who has enslaved India’s men;
500“Castes you create, lies ex nihilo---
“Your people spew, to cause men’s doubt.
“For, is not Christ an Aryan
“To your sordid heartminds--- Daft soul?
“What invention is this nonsense?
“Bards’ tales first spring through history,
“Of your specious breed, to make Christ
“Of your descendants, only to
“Say travesty was in His name?
“What have you, specious, rogue scholar?
510“Who claims Christ is both Aryan
“So say He is Jewish when His elect
“Die in pits of Ammon’s Hades?
“Does not your fake race work today?
“It comes from those called Scientists
“Who study no kinds of stories
“Who say Christ committed murder
“On His people; Do you believe
“Oh Ammonite, in Vedic lies?
“Such is all your slanders around
520“The letters at this now moment
“Ill reputed, wrong garbagemouths.
“What lie won’t Ammonites believe?
“Or find you solidarity
“With Pseudo-science, which thou accuse’th me?”
Ammon raged even more sorely:
“So, you hold to the Jewish Christ?
“Let it be known our kinds will war.”
Joash spake with these goodly, right words:
“What’s Jewish is for all people
530All tongues, tribes and many nations.
What is of Ammon is Ammon’s.”
The thirty were surrounded harsh
With the warbands of Ammon’s kind.
Surrounded they were, so fought hard.
Blood spewed from the heads of Ammon
As the Christmen tore limb from limb.
Dead fell bodies of Ammonites;
The dried dung, lay they plastered bare
Upon the streets, upon the roads.
540Their foul odor of death wafted
Across Ammon’s kingdom, strong stench
Fled. Brom himself killed one thousand
Men with the shake of a long pike.
Such strong humiliation
Left these souls barren across fields.
Canto VII
Mounts of the Himalayan peaks
Walls soar thou to the clouds above.
Below is Prestor John’s Kingdom.
White church steeples, covered in snow
550With the cross lit with fine goldrods.
Stain glass, with purple, gold and red
Panes light the marble-stone spires.
The homes, of granite, smooth and gray
Alight to aqueducts, mount flown
From the river’s cool waters yor
The steeple peaks above the clouds.
Upon supple lakes stand gardens
Filled with all measure of good fruit,
Red, kingsrobin, ignillume, shell
560Yellow, nectarsheaf, sunnycloud;
Manners of livestock grazing slow
Cattle, sheep, oxen, peafowl, stags;
Manner of creeping things to eat:
Sear’d lice, grasshopper, leeches, ants;
Manner of spices, cilantro
Mint, jasmine, cinnamon, nutmeg
Ginger, garlic; manner of flowers
Bulbs, petals, rose, dandelion;
Manner of teas, coffees, wines, beer.
570Such were they; Joash did not believe.
Their bugs wheaty, fried in fat
All manner of bugs they did eat;
All manner, so that none were weak
For all were fed; all were quenched.
Prestor John opened his parish
Where monks sung the Slavic prayersongs.
“Prestor John, we need your strong aid.
“Nebuchadnezzar’s Viceroys lurk
“At our borders, with strong, wroth war.”
580“My young one... Ancient am I, twice
“Score, one hundred years, one, am I; I this day
“Cannot offer you assistance.
“The threat of war by Sheshak’s hordes
“Extends throughout all Asia’s lands.
“Here is Christ’s lonely, sole outpost
“Defending the world from wroth
“Kinds. For I know well of Queen Zidon
“And King Tyre, that Rezin Mād,
“Assyria’s King, great, dark waster.
590“Yet, I espy good in Sheshak.
“For he wonders at our faithstrength
“That no matter how he hides Christ
“The fellowship of brethren still believe strong.
“He knows the whole truth, all secrets
“Kept from Christmen; Babylon’s fall
“Shall be by his fool son, Sesak
“At the hand of Cyrus the Great.
“However, I see good in Nebuchadnezzar.
“For now, Prestor John’s kingdom guards
600“The gates of the Yeti, wroth kinds
“Of beasts. White mane, with red silver
“Covers their body for hair, strong!
“They must be stopped to avoid wrath
“For their lie is too strong. It stays
“With the men of the world, here
“Lengths of days innumerable.
“Men will believe they are apes, should
“The Yeti break through our strong ranks
“And escape into Christian lands.
610“The Yeti now mine the fleshstone
“For Babylon’s war and device.
“Babylon’s fires would grow hot
“If the Yeti in doubting plains
“Were seen by men in a hard war.
“Rumors would spread of God’s men’s
“Similitude with the great apes;
“To cause man to lose lovekindness.”
“I implore you, Prestor John, King
“We have endured harsh, strange trials
620“With the loss of many good men.
“We must return to Europe’s war
“To battle Africa’s onslaught.”
“No. There in the heaven’s steeple
“Where the mount consumes all eyesight
“Where the trees grow bare, and wild
“Men dwell, live the Yeti, spawn’d by
“Angel swords wielded by satyrs.
“The beasts wander the mountain, blood
“Thirsts their parched throats. Let them be free
630“Then men will think themselves an ape.
“This time, peace will cover the Earth
“While men indulge in all strong sin.
“The men will behave like the beasts.
“Christmen will be sought for, tormented
“Like Lot in Sodom, Giants walk
“Through the Earth, Demons will claim flesh
“To dupe men to believe they hail from the stars.
“None will war, none will thirst, none will be hunger’d.
“Man-flesh will be served on every stone table
640“The dead will be resurrected from murders
“So that men will wildly play with slaughter.
“Men will desire flesh: child, beast, demon.
“Peace will reign with all manner of sinful art.
“So! I say again, no, for I guard Christlandom.
“If I leave this, my sacred post
“I shall leave the Yeti to flee
“The mountain; then comes these terrors.
“I am sorry, my friend, I have
“Such grave business to attend here.
650“All Christ’s servants attend service
“To what they are called to attend.”
Canto VIII
Ask me why I believe in Christ.
The poem Prestor John speaks
My justification in riddles.
So, I will query with these riddles
To you, for your own sake
That you read, and see my conclusion is sound.
Have I been to the heavens
To see the circle of the earth;
660Why then do you tell me to believe
A man’s doubt
When it is easier to touch God
With the miracle of faith
Than to touch the earth’s circle
With my blue eyes?
Why does the world praise
Wos who wander from their households
As heroes, when I see their children near death
Because of such mischief;
670Why, world, do you praise
Such wos as heroes
When I have tasted more harm
From them than good?
Why, world, do you tell me
To chase what is surreal;
Adventure
Fancies
Wombs;
Why disparage
680My hopes for love
With your callous
Devices;
It has never made me happy
Yet you preach its joy to me;
Why does the world
Try to starve love
And replace it
With merchandise?
Why do the strong
690Peck at the weak,
To take from them their seed
And scatter it throughout their lands;
Tirelessly, they control day and night
To cause the few to have so much
And the many to have hunger?
Why is all wisdom against Christ;
So that men praise wisdom,
Knowledge builds its standards,
The peoples are convinced,
700Yet the innocent suffer;
Why does all the world’s wisdom
Cause suffering;
The innocent are slaughtered
Men are trapped in facts
Divined by men who ask me to believe them;
Yet those facts turn
Into a furnace
To burn away the fat of my people?
Why does Prestor John
710Guard his kingdom;
Why does he guard the gates
Of the Yeti; why does he not aid in the war;
This I have no answer;
For vainly, do I often wonder
Does he guard the gates
While Babylon ransacks Christiandom;
But, it is why I believe...
So ask me again why I believe:
Because World,
720You will never answer those questions.
You will try;
The publishing of a lie
Doesn’t make it true;
For whatever common wisdom you invent
Will never be sufficient to answer
The reasons why your sciences
Seem to always make you worse.
How do you say?
How can you believe love is anything more
730Than chemicals?
How can you believe joy is anything more
Than fun?
How can you believe peace is anything more
Than agreement?
How can you believe kindness is anything more
Than economy?
How can you believe gentleness exists for anything more
Than praise?
How can you be faithful,
740When what you don’t have is even better?
How can you have self-control
When impulse is all your science understands?
How can you be patient
When frustration intimidates your enemies?
How can there be good
When all you can have faith in is naught?
Answer these questions;
Because you can’t,
That is why I will always believe.
XVII. Innocent Mother
Innocent mother, cast upon all shame;
How you struggle for your children’s welfare.
Poor, needy, you reach out to all good men
Where hands shrink back from you in temperance.
Come to her aid, good, kind chivalrous knight
Yet the nymphs of the age stay the kindness.
Nymphs dance in the woods, to steal men’s glory
To steal from men their mighty loves and trust.
Innocent mother, whose children are lost
Whose love grows, yet the fatherless are yours
I see you struggle, to draw your baskets
With weaves, to get a coin to rub in hands
Needy for the food of your childs’ strength.
Yet, I warn thee, Mother of the Child
The nymphs dance in the woods to steal men’s hearts
To steal from them their goodly, gold rewards.
Dance they, with nude breasts and open, soft womb
To steal from the men of our age goodly
Countenance, and right trust in you, Mothers
Of the children whose gaunt form I do love.
Your husband left you, this I now can see...
Happy were your children’s loves in the woods
And firths, pleasantly fed with waterbrooks.
His eyes fed on the nymph’s peach nudity.
There, the nymph dances, why do you give breath
To her dance in the woods, mother of child?
Your poverty is because of these wos
Who dance their dance of nudes, to entice men
With their poverty of loves, to steal love
From you and your hungry children’s stomachs.
You are too motherly to work in fields
To give away your labors, you cannot;
For your children’s needs behoove you, mother
Of the loves, of the winds, of the forests.
Why doth the wo cry for her labors, Aye!
When her children are sick and starv’d of love!
There the motherly wo cannot tend her childs
Because Nymphs have broken her motherness.
I warn thee, Mother of the Childs, trust
Binds man with wo for child’s unity;
So strip the man from the wo, this I do
Yet let their pleasant loves reach to heaven!
For I see childs I love gaunt and sick
Because of the Nymphs’ cruelty giving wo
Her coin, to strip from wo her children’s suck;
For her milk is fed by strong foods, sustain
Her! Yet, the Nymph doth never want sustained.
How can you be happy, Nymphs of the heaths
When the sixpence of your labor steals child’s
Milk... For Mother, t’is not your fault, I see.
T’is the Nymph who boundt your labor, gaunt childs
Stripped from the pleasant loves of family bonds.
Woe! My loves! Where is your good family!
Stripped by the nymphs, who wear their prithee lot
Upon brazen foreheads.
A sad song I sing, one foreign to our lands.
Nymphs’ nudity and pleasant coin bereave
The children of their milk, their loves; kind
Goodly people of this now century:
I see children near death because of nymphs.
Together, a wo and man sustains them.
I speak not to thy detriment, loves.
Only what is obvious to my soul:
Divorce staves children; as do the wood nymphs.
When broken, where does the wo go for help?
None reach out to her, so she cannot work.
My heart pines for her, for the lovewisdom
Espoused to our generation; Spy two
Loves of mine in dire straits so wroth foul;
I’ve tasted it before, seen it again.
See it from my perspective, thou wood nymphs:
You cannot be expected to earn silver
Without placing children in serious harm.
I see your cause; what do thou when all is lost?
None will help the mother because none trust you.
XVIII. The Sphynx
Canto I
Sphynx, born of an Angelic Sword, brought to Zoan
By Elf mœgic; Skin of man, hair of man, lion’s
Body, a fetus tale. You are the devil,
Satan, Sphynx. Born now, lion paws, baby hair
Zoan’s reincarnation, Nile Dragon wretch,
Lord of time. I see you prowl through Egypt’s street
Sphynx, with your long locks and lion’s mouth gaping.
Your body, like the leopard, shifts with prowess
Of a stalking beast. The jewelry of the snail
10Shifts your form into man’s good flesh; Beast, I saw
You kill my father. I will die too, by your
Wroth fist. We, heroes, warriors of Earth’s green shores
Gather to fight you; the mightiest of lore:
We come to gather before you. One by one
You slaughter us, Beast. Your jowls tear us, your claws
Tear us, your mighty hordes of strong Elves and Orcs
They come, ready to fight in war. Elves and Orcs,
Giants and Starflesh they come to ransack love.
Sphynx, you control all, save Mount Zion’s strong hill.
Canto II
20Sphynx brings Elf mischief to all human beings.
There, the nude forms of the Elvish wos, clad
In their light-shod cloth, come from cities of light.
Sphynx, your vessel the Skidbladnir folds into
Your pocket, like a fine, measure of white silk.
Ho! the Sphynx hated Israel with hatred
For they were the slaves, when the Mighty God flood
The land of Egypt. It discomfit the Sphynx
So that the Elvish hordes brought him the jewel
Of the Snail, and a guard of Score-fourth world
30Giants, larger than the whole of the world.
Such, the Sphynx had its Elves weave Skidbladnir’s weave
With sails guild by sunlight, floated with the breath
Of the sun’s exhale. Such, the galley floated
Larger than an isle of the Pacific Sea.
Such, the Elvish hordes bastion the gangplanks’ thread
Weaving light to shod the craft across heaven
To realms of Giants, that wandering star Mars
Where a dead giant’s face still sits in the silt.
Canto III
Hero, St. Judas Son of James, caught in king’s
40Craft, family blithed by the craft of that lord Sphynx.
Jude Cyrus, St. Praise the Wise Praised, Changing Broom
Tree on a Hill, Diadem of the New Son
Of Israel, Judge in the LORD’s Third Order
Of heaven’s courts. Caught in the mischief of kings
He saw the wars of Brittos and Beowulf;
Brother of the LORD, Baptized by James the Less.
He subscribed the LORD with his hand, LORD’s friend Jude.
Jude, neither prophet nor god, nor angel’s being
Fought his war to protect the two Prophets fit
50Whom he, an Apostle, sought to take lie’s wrath
From Elisha and Elijah---he grew poor
Of the Sphynx’s discomfiture. War came soon
So the Sphynx came several times to Jude’s vision;
Whom, not being a prophet, mingled Ephraim’s
Mind with his own, to see the plots of Satan.
“War comes!” Oh Jude Son of James proclaims strongly.
A slave, writing ancient odes for king’s pleasure.
Canto IV:
Wroth, the Skildbladnir flies in the sky, bringing
Gifts from the Martian caves; bring the Starflesh war
60Oh, those who see the Starflesh come on wove Skilds.
Their Skilds descend in Earth’s modern star-legends
To steal peace from the earth, or to bring progress.
Jude, tamer of the Sphynx, “I see good in you!”
Yet, the Sphynx cries, “I see no good in me, Jude,
“Whom I love above all other men, seer
“Who proclaims blind, forgiver of murderers.
“I war with you, though I love you, Judas James.”
Jude cataloged his nation’s fall, Jeremy
Of our days; Isaiah to Jeshurun’s land.
70“I see the nations readying for warfare
“Oh Sphynx, born in our labs, harbinger of time!”
The Sphynx spoke with wroth fire, and soft sadness:
“Scream, I am the Judge! Judas Son of James, Lo!”
“I see I am not thy Judge Sphynx! Creatus
“Of man’s wicked tinkering with Angel Swords!
“Blast from heaven, light shod sails, thou come’th soon!”
Canto V:
In their chains, David, Cyrus; Iscariot
Free to prosper with no binding chains or art---
War came soon to the land, Jude saw it clearly.
80He knew the Starflesh would appear, wroth demons
Who’d dupe mankind as if they hailed from heaven.
They’d come, prosper men with their blaspheme Science.
Men would not know, for it would be science, see.
Skildbladnir hailed from the heavens’ blue skywave
So hordes of Elves and Orcs came too, to corrupt men.
Martial, thou Nethanim! The troop of God’s guard---
The gates, with the Seraphim at Earth’s corners!
There, the Skildbladnir and other Skilds descend
From the heavens. A torrent of Nethanim
90Rush in their ranks, jumping high to destroy all
Starflesh, Orcs and Elves. So grows the Giants.
Grow, Giant! Comes the warfare forlorn, wrothful!
Giants of the Twenty-fourth world grow large
Where hell is flesh, and all men are in hellish
Wastes! The Skilds land, unleashing their hordes on men!
Canto VI:
Bloody war! The Sphynx prowls off his large boat, blades
Twisting with the edge of his paw’s fleshy step.
“I am thy God!” cries the Sphynx, with host of Orcs
Elves, Giants and Starflesh exiting the planks.
100So! The Sphynx walks toward his place in Egyptian sands.
There, he sets himself as king of the earth’s realm.
So, the Sphynx clothed himself with golden scale.
The battle was set, and many hero died.
Down fell the men, dead across the field, warlorn.
Battle heat, when Leviathan was killed, long
Ago, at the first war, so here came last war.
“Sphynx!” cried Jude, “Here comes thy war upon the earth!
“With all wroth hell behind thee! I AM NOT GOD!
“Though you try hard to make me Israel’s God
110“I am not a god to my dying breath, Sphynx!”
The Sphynx grew his wings, the soldiers overcame;
Yet, the Giant guard grew their gaunt forms, larger
Than the whole world. Dead heroes lie in droves
By the Giant feet which did crush God’s elect.
Canto VII:
Look to the world created by these beasts!
Starflesh fled into the world, with science
To create flying chariots. Mars’ commerce link’d
The Earth with Mars, Elves spread through the whole world.
The buildings raised, and great peace reigned on the earth.
120Peace, brethren, is what the devil brought to Earth---
Understand what kind of peace---all fruit vanished.
The members took a mark upon their palms; heads:
A mirror which supplied all pleasure, all needs
Or a helmet which did the same for all men.
Men lived upon these devices, starved for love.
Great pleasure were exchanged with friendship’s real touch
For the pleasures of all men were strongly felt
Yet none of the Spirit’s Fruit could be tasted.
Understand, my friends, this is the Beast Kingdom.
130Skin, taste, nudity, beauty, play, fun, journeys
All in abundance! No work! Buy and sell here
With the commerce of play, for play is commerce!
The Seventh Trumpet brings peace; through peace, conquers.
XIX. The Hymn of the Dark Crusade
Canto I
So! listen close to my dark speech
Crusaders marching into Rome.
Forlorn are the days of war’s heat
Battle, Protestants, your war beats
To leave thy brothers all alone.
So! Listen close to my dark speech.
Beat, war drums, when Luther let leave
Good man, making honest his home;
Forlorn are the days of war’s heat.
Nebuchadnezzar spoke to me
Writhing for thy dumb, callous bones.
So! Listen close to my dark speech.
Babylon comes for Christ to leech
Because of Christmen’s hearts of stone;
Forlorn are the days of war’s heat.
Beat, Babylon, thy hoary steeds
Reigns of the horsemen’s battles hone;
So! Listen to my dark speech
Forlorn are the days of war’s heat.
Canto II:
20Here comes the wrothful, demon’s steeds---
Oh Prestor John, thy kingdom’s taught---
Fool-Protty, aid not Catholic’s needs.
Prestor John’s kingdom guards yeti
To avoid battles ought he fought;
Here comes the wrothful, demon’s steeds.
Catholics, who guard the gates of steel
Hell’s blackened gates of ashen rock
Fool-Protty, aid not Catholic’s needs.
Is Christ’s kingdom divided; please!
30Join forces to defeat the lot.
Here comes the wrothful, demon’s steeds.
Nebuchadnezzar you deceives
Oh Protty captain of the flock.
Fool-Protty, aid not Catholics’ needs.
His Orcs and Elves flood thy valleys
Istanbul, that dark Whore needs stopped.
Here comes the wrothfuld, demon’s steeds
Fool-Protty, aid not Catholics needs.
Canto III:
Righteous knight, squire called Joash, I
40Come to tell of the ode so hid.
Catholics are friends, Babble lies.
How Sheshak will turn us all fie
Protty and Catholic, thou dost sin---
Righteous knight, squire called Joash, I
Say MedÆ only tells lies
To keep the truth from all hidden:
Catholics are friends, Babble lies.
Remember, war burgeons here nigh
By the spread of false invention.
50Righteous knight, squire called Joash, I
Say to you, Protestants, you lie
Catholics guard gates of ruin.
Catholics are friends, Babble lies.
So! Listen close to my dark speech;
Forlorn are the days of war’s tin!
Righteous knight, squire called Joash, I---
Catholics are friends, Babble lies.
Canto VI:
So! March thy age of Chivalry
To bastion ally’s battered walls.
60“Naught! Catholics are the whorey sea!”
Lost, thy days when Christ prayed to see
The Churches boundt to precious call.
So! March thy age of Chivalry
To break down thy brother’s deceit?
Who among you has perfect law?
“Naught! Catholics are the whorey sea!”
So speak’th thou to I, believed
Hateful of Christians to make raw;
So, march thy age of Chivalry.
70The march against one’s brethren, heed,
To cause our good Christiandom’s fall;
“Naught! Catholics are the whorey sea!”
So, Christiandom falls, with it peace
Freedom, love and God’s good fruits all
So, march thy age of Chivalry,
“Naught! Catholics are the whorey sea!”
Canto V:
Here comes the Elves, through space and time
Christians, they’ll use this to your doubt.
Came the Elves and Starflesh, says I.
80Ho! To my words, not prophesy
I to you, but heard it from mouths:
Here comes the Elves, through space and time.
Ho! To my words, not prophesy
War bastions on the Christian’s house;
Came the Elves and Starflesh, says I.
Weapons of wisdom, hidden kinds
Are kept from you to wisdom tout;
Here comes the Elves, through space and time.
Assault beliefs which keep our minds
90Do you know what this poem’s about?
Came the Elves and Starflesh, says I.
Keep the faith, oh Christmen’s in time
For Satan hides God with lies loud:
Here comes the Elves, through space and time.
Came the Elves and Starflesh, says I.
Canto VI:
Protestant, with your specious claim
Brought aught end to your religion.
Catholic, because your sword has slain
Thy hegemon soon loose thy reign.
100For Judah and Israel sing.
Protestant with your specious claim.
Judah, thou art Catholic shame---
Protestant, in Israel’s sin.
Catholic, because your sword has slain.
Divided, Rehoboaham’s days
When Luther split with righteousness---
Protestant, with your specious claim.
Catholics, to defend Christian’s pray
Do you see Starflesh are not friends?
110Catholic, because your sword has slain.
Catholic, guard the open way;
Protestant, come to thy brethren.
Protestant, with your specious claim;
Catholic, because your sword has slain.
Canto VII.
Prestor John, rue the day you fought
With your brother in Rome’s good square.
Prestor John, in vain, Gospel taught.
Why does Christiandom come to naught?
Prestor, you guarded the wrong layer.
120Prestor John, rue the day you fought.
Rome needs thy help; Israel sought
The help of MedÆ’s repair.
Prestor John, in vain, Gospel taught.
Brought ruins, broken Pieta
When Prestor John lost Joash’s care.
Prestor John, rue the day you fought.
Science, you used to prove our God
What did Paul to church Corinth share!
Prestor John, in vain, Gospel taught.
130Counsel not with human’s known lot
Was what Paul said, so do beware!
Prestor John, Rue the day you fought;
Prestor John, in vain, Gospel taught.
Canto VIII:
Christ comes soon to slaughter all kinds.
Brethren, none can fight beside Him.
For all have now been left behind.
Brethren, the Beast Kingdom comes nigh
Because you‘ve forgotten Christ’s Hymn.
Christ comes soon to slaughter all kinds.
140The Church has failed like Ancient times;
Israel went to Babylon
For all have now been left behind.
I speak in riddles: Heaven shines
For those who are truly Christian.
Christ comes soon to slaughter all kinds.
The time is Israel’s end time
While Damascus falls from within.
For all have now been left behind.
Judah, you shall remain alive
150Damascus is now in ruins.
Christ comes soon to slaughter all kinds
For all have now been left behind.
XX. Omitted
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author’s Bio:
Brandon Neifert is the author of books including In Defense of the Story, a crowning achievement of autodidactism; My Collected Writings, a medley of various writings on diverse topics; and, The Love of Another, an epic novel starring a rowdy maverick colonel caught between a devastating, fifth world war and the love of his life. Neifert is a self-educated, self-published writer, who, much like his characters, strives for the moral best in both himself and society. A devoted Christian, Neifert was born-again when confronted with a sin from his adolescence that ultimately lead to his confession and incarceration as an adult. Neifert has a colorful past, but makes up for it with his scrupulous observations of the human condition, framing both good and evil in ways that even the most skeptical can agree.
Fairyland
Published
B. K. Neifert 