B. K. Neifert
Copyright © 2018 B. K. Neifert
All rights reserved.
DEDICATION
Dedicated to Lindsey. I’ve just realized you’re the reason I’m so messed up; not because of anything you did to me, but because the cruel vicissitudes of life took you from me.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The Acknowledgments would go to my friends J. D. And James. J.D. For complimenting my work so I would push through all odds to write this, and James for nudging me in the direction of writing about my delusions. The bizarre world you’re about to enter actually cured me of schizophrenia. I sat down, with the completed project, and read it in one of my binders. I then realized it was simply fiction, perhaps my Young Shadow. Seeing all of those strange fears in the form of poetry---where I guess I realized they could not hurt me---relaxed my mind from the strain of constant wanderings into this fairyland. If much of my life was about validating the power of the poem, perhaps its greatest power is to struggle with the incorporeal demons we all face.
I. The Ode of Brittos
I
Isles font of Brittos
Albion’s frosty shores---
The hemlocks shaded green
Forests lumber over yor.
Yor forests, Brittos trek
Trek to the open gap;
Open to the white sands
Where yor be hemlock sap.
White waves crest in silver
By a wooded seashore
Village filled with vilfolk
A seatown full of poor.
II
There meeted he seafolk
Filled with inbred seamugs;
---An age before the law---
Skirted in their tree trunks.
The sea town filled with wood
Breached in crossbeam logs.
Cottages, lo, abound
The sea lifting a fog.
There crest the forested
Hemlock trees, shod in soot;
The blackened trees shadowed
By the foggy steam foot.
III
The peasants here called
Hope for a hero long
To save from the Sea GrÆ
That wicked devil fog.
An easterntwin of three
With their mugs shod to earth.
The hoary hair and skin
With breasts swinging in dearth.
Six legged, three waists prott
The gray crab with shrunk arms
Moves in horrid crab walks.
The seas throng at her song.
IV
Alas! The shor’s swell’d high
With mighty walls of foam
The oceans swept billows
Of hoary frost o’r homes.
The winter air crisps breath
In steam; ocean waves ride.
The hoary frost of ice
Over sandy beach nigh.
So swayed the green hemlocks
The murky oceans swept
The icy waters flow
Over poor Brittos’ neck.
V
Brittos, armed in warcloth
And a shaft with bronze tip
A wooden oaken shield
With Noe’s boat on the lip.
The shaft, carved for twelvemonths
With the scrimshaw of wins
Gingerly shaved with knives;
A beater of knaves tens.
The shield with Behemoth
That tusk ’ed elephant
Oak to ebony etch’d
In tusks, the pliant rim.
VI
From the sand, shook the GrÆ
A malapropos crab.
Brittos saw the fiend, GrÆ
GrÆ that sand laden scab.
Thus did Brittos say this:
GrÆ, you come to your end.
The GrÆ spake no thing but
Hissed with her song’s bend.
Brittos did shrink back; so!
The thing made he shiver.
The thing like a nightmare
Did scall back and hither.
VII
The GrÆ---for Magik yet
Be---sung her bending song
Into the ground and sea.
The singing like a gong.
VIII
Thus, Brittos dug his heels
Into the sandy grains;
The waves disappeared.
To the skywave they shrank.
A long furrow, oceans
Warb, a grand cubit wave
Flung in with all torn harm.
Brittos’ shield be his save.
For, Christ yet be, also
God; none knew either here.
For Brittos, the hero
Did this with righteous fear.
Why be it, with no known
Guide, that Brittos war with
This horrid GrÆ’s, deep vice?
Because evil be sick.
IX
Brittos survived the ice
Waves of foam, cold, cold bones.
In came the rush, the GrÆ’s
Power naught but her song.
Brittos, Sem son of Noe
Righteous Israel’s old
Forefather so unknown
Fought back that GrÆ shade ghoul.
So thrust his spear, cleaved
One of her hoary heads.
Yet, this evil thing still
Be yet not fully dead.
X
Thus, the GrÆ’s two sisters
Creaked their jurk ‘ed heads
And so feasted on one
Who was just now made dead.
They, engorged by their flesh
For the wicked so feast
Slugged down slow and full
Belly, there they did eat.
XI
Brittos came to final
Blows of the so strange war
Yet did the GrÆ sing, sing
And the oceans did stir.
Out came the Chok:
Summ’d the bloody beast.
The Chok, frowning lips, pink
Sordid snout, snot drooling
From the unshorn seaimp.
The Chok, with his fat lips
Spoke: Brittos, I speak here
Listen to me, now fair.
I ponder the sea’s fares.
I will destroy you soon:
But here this riddle here
Here this riddle here
Here this riddle here.
I be the Chok, the Chok
And I say this now:
The verse I confound
To bring winds of fury!
So, the Chok sucked in breath
And a torrent of wind
Did breath in all hemlocks
Splinters, poor Brittos, wounds.
The Chok sucked, and heaved, heave
The splinters killed many
Many, many, many.
The men, so many, men.
Brittos did nare be food
If not for that spear which
He threw, he threw, he threw.
The spear, chucked so, so hard
Burst through the blobfish’s hide.
Thus, the seaimp be dead.
XII
Now, Brittos had his foe
The foe was beaten soon.
Brittos took his shielded
Bone, burst that hairy goon.
Thus, the last shebeast ate
And feasted on such flesh.
Thus did her guts burst out
The sordid thing be dead.
XIII
LORD did reveal Himself
To Brittos in strong war.
In war Brittos sought God.
The LORD made this Shem’s tor.
Thus, did Brittos win sure
He founded the Isle.
He absconded his crown.
He lived with happy smiles.
For Brittos did what none
Would do, fought wars for naught
But was for right and truth.
This, his payment was sure.
A naked woman’s breasts
For his good children’s pure
Milk, and he with her breasts
Did sleep at night all cured.
II. The Ode of Yorkish Elves and St. Alban’s Lancaster
I
Here be the ode of York and Lancaster
Of White Rose and Red Rose in battle’s heat.
Twoscore grand troop from the Elvish land York
Threescore left from Lancaster now here meet.
March yor, Yorkist horde, Yorkist hordes, march yor
To Lancaster’s thunderous, heavy feet.
The thunder shocks of the marching warbands
To where these two armies shall final heat.
II
Lancaster, on their march to Zion’s shores
Move against these awful tumults, of elves;
Lo, redeemed of the LORD’s say always so
The battle now found in the wretched swells.
Through the shires, lade with green, red with clay
Where the shirefolk march in lines, to fight
War comes, how it comes, ‘cause of wroth mœgic
Which the elves employ for their venom’s might.
III
There alighted some elves, in their fortune
Their hollow cloth bear their privy secrets.
Lights shewn from their eyes, their face and lightcloths
A beautiful nude shows their warborn breasts.
For women march to the war, their secrets
Shown for the warrior cause; elvish beauty
Here they come, lit like the sun, demigods
Enticing of men, the warclout elf ye.
VI
Now, know, Brütess the elvish Lordess lay
Traps for the men of St. Alban’s misty
Walk. There, she dig pits, lade with the bloodfed
Honeysuckle and Mulberry treemeat.
There dug shafted pits, pikes covered in shit
The foul, bloody dirt of the industry’s
Mœgic, borne from the saint’s blood, fed to all
Dirt merited of mine vulgarity.
V
In rush St. Alban, whose faith was courage---
Rushed he in, commander of Lancaster
With his threescore grand troop of mail’d yemen.
Two armies meet, an Yorkish elf slaughter.
Hack’d off the head of the lightfalse shod fiends
The swords swaths flash over the grassy plain.
The fairy lord’s mœgic lit the greensward
In rush’d a pleasant, whitefrost winter rain.
VI
On the final charge, there the Lancaster
Men, clad in their armor drew back for tor
War was nearly won, yet there the treemeat
Diverted those silly Lancs from the war!
Lo! Ten Thousand of Lancaster fell dead
St. Alban tried to lead them all away.
Yet, none listened to he, and he was smote
The first martyr of Angeland’s days.
VII
The white rose won the battle with Alban
The losses numbering so, so; so! high.
St. Alban was lost to the war, yet his
Spirit never died. For the war fell nigh.
War came, St. Alban’s bravery then was won
For from his death, came a Bear Wolf’s deepsong
For St. Alban was his mind’s friend, so task’d:
Slew Brütess, that elvish cur with flam’d tong.
III. The Methuselah War
Harpy, Valkyrie
Thy warlust wrecks the world.
Hatebreed bleeds boutbreak.
Born both one feather---
Northforrest, Southdesert---one
Hawk’s race’s blood feud.
The race slung sunnails
Peircing a man: Multitudes’
Laughter’s tricks; He lives.
Men could not war them;
Methuselah’s friends saw all
Thus, prayed to JAH.
One man sought his war;
Tinker’d he with mail and hide.
So man learned to fly.
He learn’d their slingshots
Tinker’d he with mail and hide.
So man learned to war.
He learn’d their fireart
Tinker’d he with mail and fire
So man now destroy’d.
The two warhawks yor
Remov’d the bounds, destroy’d all
Methuselah wept.
Thus the elves were born.
White suncloth, sublime nude form;
Dark dwarves underneath.
Methuselah, grand
Year of age, led men to hide.
Elv’s reign’d for some time.
Men took arms in war
Instead of hidden, good odes.
Giants walk there, friends.
Thus, Noah made the
Wooden Gopher Boat; raised.
The flood kill’d the elv’s.
IV. Hannai and Jeroboam
So, a story I shall tell you all now
Of the war torn onslaught of two lovers.
Hannai, the princess of Ziddon’s isles---
Jeroboam, prince of Israel’s shore.
The two, underneath the fig tree slept nude
With the love of breasts and honeymeed tongue.
Spicewine and cedars, the taste of meed drunk
A drunken love sacred unto the LORD.
One day, the two’s families found them attir’d
With their nakedness, lock’d in lovers’ bliss.
Forbidden, they were scourged with forsaken
Love, separated from one another.
The two wish’d to make their love conjugal
So went to the priests of the land with haste.
Yet, these were given the price of rubies.
Hannai and Jeroboam could not wed.
They seal’d their love with nudity’s wet clinch
As this was their marriage vow to their God.
With the kiss of matrimony they slept
Upon the cedar roofs and mossy beds.
On threat of death, the two were parted sure
For their love was deep as death, but duty
Bound them away from one another’s fruit.
For they tasted, and tasted deep, yet fell.
Thus, many moons pass’d, and they married wrong
Other lovers, for their vows were cast back.
So, a cry in heaven was heard, love scorn’d---
Grew wroth, for strangers ate their lover’s fruit.
On hearing of the bitter agony
Of nude embrace, fruits eaten by strangers,
The two forged war with the oth’ they lov’d.
Death was wroth at the divorce of lovers.
Instead of killing, they both took prisoners
Bound the vassals in chains and deathwrought ir’.
Suffered in darkness, these prisoners wept.
No hatred is so deep as love forbid’.
The two lovers died with tremendous aches.
Their dying breath was to say, “I loved!”
So, the consorts, the vassals and the slaves
Sung this ode to forbidden love:
Let not it ever happen here
Let the kings and queens be with cheer.
For when hearts are forbidden love
Such is hatred’s worst sort of gun.
V. The Last Christians
Olden :: Days yor
Time taught :: Longpast---
Grand six :: Sought years
Thousands :: Time wrought.
God’s word :: Gave all
Times to :: Teach scrib’s.
Towered :: Men tall
To lie :: Lewd laws.
Here hark :: Hallow
Christmen--- :: Couth two.
Wifeflesh :: Witness
With them, :: The few.
Woe, wroth! :: Wealthy---
Sheaths of :: Sheshak.
Christmen :: Cast all
Sheshak’s :: Good stones.
Sheshak’s :: Shoulders
They Gnash :: Nations
Moab :: Tyre
Ziddon :: The Medes
Egypt :: Jacob
Ammon :: The East
Phillis :: tia
Ashdod :: Ammor.
The Medes :: Modest
Men’s Might :: Mash mere
Sheshak; :: Soon slept
Sesak’s :: Sired.
Cyrus :: Soon sent
Jacob’s :: Joytides---
Gospels :: Girder
Good Grace :: Garlands.
The floods :: Flock for
Jacob’s :: Joytides.
Cyrus :: Sleeps sound---
Life all :: Lasting.
Portions :: Pour praise
On Great--- :: God’s grace.
Joytides :: Jeer Jude;
Ephra :: im; False.
Sheshak :: Shorns Sure
With rest: :: All rest.
VI. The Irish Maid
There, there, right there
Is beautiful Elora.
Her cheeks of porcelain.
He sees her from afar
Beautiful, impressive.
I saw in her a heart like mine;
A beautiful heart, such like mine.
Such could not be said about her beauty
For such made this writer block.
No, her heart, I want her heart.
There is her heart, her soul
Her mind; if she were plump
I would still desire her
For this was my dream.
I sent her five love letters
Five I sent; with the scent
Of rolsk.
She blushed; did she fall in love?
I sent her all I have;
Who I am; for I love her
Even if she weren’t fair;
So long as it’s her face;
Her self, her body;
So long as she weren’t fair
It is her; this I have found;
Her face, her hair,
Her every atom.
So long as it was her;
Some part of her.
Am I insane?
It’s the molecules born from
The chemicals of her mind;
The chemicals of her mind
Born hormones, those were from her
And made her. I am not in infatuation for once.
I am not in love for once.
I am in utter awe that in my dream
I would still desire her
Though she were not fair;
It was her face. Her face
With fatness, though it was her
And not a deceit.
She could not find him.
Though she looked she could not.
There she looked:
How I hope this about her
Looking for me;
Somewhere I’m to be found
Somewhere, my darling.
Come to the lake
And there I will give you my soul
To see, like I have seen yours.
Where there was the lake
There we met; I hope, so hoped.
I hope to find you at the lake
And there, by some strange circumstance
I will find you. Please, let us not rear
Unfaithful children;
However, my darling,
If you are no sealed garden
If your love is for another,
I set you free. Do you understand?
Do you see the powers over me?
Do you see them?
If your heart, like others they wish to give
Is not for me, then I set you free.
It is better to die alone,
Than an adulterer.
We will live poor,
Poor, but happy.
Happiness is all I can give to you;
My love under the mandrakes
My heart under the heavens.
Nothing more can I give to you;
I am not rich,
I am not great
I am meek; and hope for you.
VII. Prince Richard
Listen wise to the tale,
Of Prince Richard:
Impoverished from his youth,
This prince lived with loving father
And mother, with not a single sadness to bear;
His mother and father were consorts
Of Tyre, born slaves to raise up this child.
His true mother, he did not know
Nor his father, but was a good boy.
He took up his hobby diligently
Of metallurgy, lightning and fire;
He smithed well, to solve
The poverty of those whom he loved
For he was poor, and wanted all to be rich.
He was perfect in all wisdom,
Honor and glory. Righteous
Beyond all measure;
He was kind, generous
Loving, and given up his wares
For those who needed it.
He invented apparatuses in abundance
Great and wise vehicles,
Traveling to the heavens
To the earth,
To the depths of the seas!
There, his traffik brought men---
There meat, there clothes
There every need.
Such was his ways.
He became wealthy
With fortune, perfect in his wisdom.
Yet, when all wanted his wealth
He became covetous of the poor’s meat.
His starships brought the meat to the poor
And their clothing, yet he desired all from them
For his wares, also their meat.
He withheld their meat for price.
Thus, he lifted himself up against the kings of the earth
And was thus brought to 'ell.
This is all rich men: Beware.
VIII. The Tragedy of the Shebear
A shebear, there
Forages for the care
Of little cubs in her stomach.
She eats the berries and grass
Leaves, bark and sassafras
Ready to birth her young.
A pioneer shoots her
Cooks her in his kettle.
She didn’t have her cubs.
Such is the pioneer;
The gentle shebear
Is shot before she knows love.
IX. The Bull of Heshbon
A good man was born
Crushed by strong bulls.
This man, he was torn
By its strong, hatepull.
The man liv’d in peace
The bull liv’d in hate
By the clear brookheaths
They both lived in shame.
They both committed
Whoredoms, there so gay
Yet the man repented;
The bull stay’d his way.
The good man was sent
To captivity’s
Bittersome repent.
The bull grew comely.
The bull liv’d his life
In span of three years
Growing old with wife.
Good Man had no cheer.
The bull had his calves
Who gor’d the good man.
The good man’s pain passed
By the grains of sands.
The calves bore their wrath
Skipping like heifers;
Surrounding Good Man
Like he’s a leaper.
The good man wax’d good
The calves were shamed.
The calves sought their food
From the bull, unnamed.
The bull gave no meat
So his children storm’d.
Went to battle’s heat
They fought their great war.
The bull and calves fought
Destroying their camps.
The lesson was taught;
Christ was Good Man’s lamp.
The good man was freed
By the bull’s strong fight.
The bull was revealed
His calves a false light.
X. The Marionette
Oh hands and feet, hands and feet
There was tied some silver strings.
A man who was a marionette
Did some unseemly things.
The man named “Wicked John”
Knew this man had strings
So tied them to a block of wood
And made him do bad things.
He muted the marionette’s speech;
None could hear him sing;
When playing with his doll,
There he’d play so cruel with him.
He’d cause the Marionette to wander
Here and so very far;
The Marionette was wood and splinters
When Wicked John took his bars.
The Marionette could not say
What folly he truly did.
For the Wicked John so cruelly
Bent Merry to his every whim.
Wicked John spoke through him
And did such evil things;
Took his work and wares and tithes
And prospered like a king.
For the Marionette---when John had not his block
---Was skilled with verse and cookery.
Wicked John prospered Merry’s lot
While using his puppet unworthily.
One day Wicked John blasphemed wrong
To make it seem like the Puppet Spoke
But when this happened, the Marionette’s song
Burst from him when he smelt the evil smoke.
Paul, wily as he was, an apostle great
Saw the poor puppet sin.
“Why did this righteous man
Do such a thing when no such thing’s within?”
Thus, he found the strings
And took Merry’s little block.
He led him straight to Wicked John
That evil Prophet False.
A wise man saw Merry’s strings,
Thus asked a simple question.
“How’d they get there?”
The Marionette thus explained:
“One day I was given them
When I sought tidings from Wicked John’s mother
Before he tied me with strings.
It was my sin, I went to a king,
So he caused me to have these grave things.”
Thus the wise man asked,
“Is such true? Did you sin like so?
I thought you were a righteous man:
I think there’s more to this story
Of which you do not know.”
Thus the wise man asked Paul
What was truly there.
Paul said, “Now, listen Solomon
Judge of great virtue and wares.
They tied the strings to his hands and feet
While he slept. It was a trap his neighbors wrought
For they are all Marionettes, my friend;
They do not know how badly they’re caught.”
Thus, Solomon discerned Merry good
Just a victim of another’s crime.
So he put Wicked John, that unseemly fool
Into a dungeon encased with time.
XI. Jezebel
A woman once lov’d the seed of all men.
Her self went to market to find lovers.
She lov’d gossip, and to find all slanders.
Anyone made unclean by her secrets
She could discover all hidden regrets.
She spread her gossip, turning the faces
Of the unclean by her fornication
Hard, because all secretly knew all’s sin.
Soon, Jezebel turn’d her whole city wroth
With one another’s deep, secret privies.
Thus, the city began to feed on hate.
One day, a man nam’d her the talebearer.
She turned the whole city wroth against him.
The unclean locals all publish’d their lies
Against this man, whose whole sin was confessed.
The locals sought to place him in prison.
He had no hidden sin of which to know.
A voice cried, making another’s sins known.
The whole city erupted into war
By revealing all privy secret sins.
They wish’d they could be the man who was known.
The whole city then began to forgive.
Love abounded for a season’s season.
Jezebel raged war onto the known man
Spreading falsehoods about him to all kind.
The city became wroth with this man’s sin
For they all lov’d him, but now found him foul.
But, it was soon shown she lied to all flesh
For the investigation turned up his
Innocence. She was now known to spread lies.
She, scorning the laws, was exposed by them.
Men forgot Jezebel; they clamp’d her chains.
XII. Nebuchadnezzar’s War
I
Prince Zoan, thou Satyr
Loved a man with false breasts
Whose fruit you desire.
It had sinned great
Murder, slander, carnal fruit,
Yet thou cover’d it.
It fled for Zoan’s walls
Where Zoan, with it, ate strong fruits
Underneath the sky.
The breasted man’s sin
Was it had kill’d this sweet bard
So with his sweet wife.
Nebuchadnezzar’s
Puzzlement, who did no harm
Since his ugly youth.
This good scribe sung odes
Never meaning any harm;
He despised riches.
He drank poison dead
By the breasted man’s venom
A sinful, foul brew.
This breasted man hid
In the palaces of Zoan;
There he hid safely.
Nebuchadnezzar
Wasted much wealth with Tyrus.
He then turn’d on Zoan.
Nebuchadnezzar
Wasted the gold palaces
Tearing limbs to limb.
Nebuchadnezzar
Won a heap of golden rods
Innumerable.
II
Then, riches afoul
He became angry with God
Seeking His blest throne.
“If a god could kill
Such a righteous man like he
Then I ought to be.”
He thus saw the man
With breasts, bewitched by him
Coveting his breasts.
“Thou slew my good friend
Yet thou art seemly for love.”
He altered wicked.
Nebuchadnezzar
Strove to sit upon God’s throne;
He sought it with haste.
The prophet came down
When he saw the wickedness.
He wrestled with he.
The king, wicked king
Strove with the Angel, once known.
The king sought vengeance.
The Angel bound him
But first took him to heaven,
Seeing many books.
“Why did you oppress
The earth, when this was my lot?”
The king was silent.
One thousand years bound
Nebuchadnezzar’s wroth grew.
Thus, Christ laid him waste.
XIII. The King’s Composition
David, sweet David,
Thou art born the poor
A shepherd is you.
Thy sin was carnal
Fruits off the young vine.
In thy youth thou laid,
Mixed wine your cup.
Pure heart nonetheless
Thy anointing slew
Goliath with band,
And stone, smooth, deadly.
Thy youth’s lust turn’d grave
Murder, adultery,
With the nude form of
Bathsheba’s body.
David, thou art struck!
With continual war!
Only to contend with
God’s so hated foes.
Thus, you died with a
Virgin betwixt your
Breast, sweet, sweet, passing.
XIV. St. Paul and St. Broom
St. Paul, murder, blaspheme, hatred, a wicked man.
I was evil but not bad, bad like you, my friend.
Thinking yourself good you fought Christmen: you kill’d some!
I thought I was good, but not like you; unlike you.
You kill’d Stephen. He let you kill. No fight, no scream.
I did not kill; never. You see? I’m not like you.
You were struck blind; you could not see. You crawl’d, no help.
I was not blind. I always saw. I was soft struck.
You saw Jesus; You saw God’s flesh. He sav’d your soul.
I saw God’s face; Not God’s flesh, no. Do you see, friends?
His eyes opened; They saw new light. New light they saw!
My eyes always were open, wide. I was not blind.
He was accused falsely; struck hard. So hard for naught.
I was accused falsely, not struck. No, I had help.
Paul was beaten; struck with fists, scourge, stocks and snake bites.
Not one hand laid upon, on me. Do you see, friends?
He sat for life in prison, there for naught, naught wrong.
I sat in jail for five short months, for my own sins.
He testified before kings, Kings! He saved a few.
I am weak, small; I only think I did such things.
He died captive, for no sin, none. Nobody came.
I am yet here; alive, not dead. Suffer’d so small.
Do you now know? I wasn’t struck, not in strong chains
Never suffer’d except for sin. That was Paul’s life.
Mine shall be good; For I am weak and he is strong.
I cannot be struck, cannot be put in stocks---: No!
I cannot be bound in prison; I cannot be
Tormented. Why? Because I am weak, he strong. See?
I will die bound? No, I will not because I can’t.
XV. Lucifer, King of Tyre
O! Chamberlain of Tyre, Lucifer!
Your songs were perfection--- Could make me cry.
Your voice was an Angel’s, a holy lure.
Perfect was your instrument’s pitch and ply.
Yet, thou could not ever make one story.
You seeth’d for stories of all kingdoms’ men.
Even murder full of wonton envy,
You wanted the stories of Ephraim.
Woe! Wroth! They were not his! Just a sprung plot!
You, Chamberlain, were bless’d with sights and sounds.
You were made to make men dreams with thy songs.
Yet, thou wert shy with thy music’s pleasure.
Words wert thou nary bless’d with on the earth.
You found thy sister’s pleasant nudity.
Thou wert separated for a time’s time.
Married lovers, Tyrus, was thy lovely.
Both of you were Chamberlains. Ye both shined!
He dwelt in his soul one hundred-ten men.
These he’d spy out the earth and act so lewd.
Spying out the saints, whom he was once friends;
Dashing their hopes to so very, so! Few.
Never his good nature blessed than in song
Yet they be always another man’s words.
He coveted words of New-Adam’s sons
For not one, not one, could he ever work.
Once, he was chief among the sainthood’s rind
Before he fell into the murd’rous lot.
He took a man’s strings, and made him do crime
He played with that little right puppet’s block.
His wife grew fairer than ten thousand wos.
She said of herself, “Who’s more beautiful?”
He stored up earth’s stories in many droves
Even the man whose strings he once did pull.
The man whose strings he pulled, Lucifer saw
Was nam’d Merry, who he took up his block.
The man whose stories he coveted most
Were the man Ephraim made awful boast.
He repented, and promised to prosper
But grew deceitful in his mind’s bad tares.
Once preacher to a thousand messengers
His Amazon said “Give Merry half his wares.”
For the Chamberlain Lucifer, now King,
Found now a war with Nebuchadnezzar.
The man’s stories whose was coveted things
Frightened Nebuchadnezzar to the war.
Great was the war between the two Satans
One goodhearted still: Live forever, Kings
For my ode naught hast to here now bestand
You can still repent and do goodly things.
Lucifer, he never was bound in chains
Until the day that his Demon did jump
Into Sheshak’s goodly and soft heart-pains.
That day was not this war, but at Zoan’s love.
Prosper, Kings, Princes,
Princesses and Queens,
Your odes now do end.
XVI. The Ode of Brittos and MedÆ
Canto I
Oh, MedÆ, MedÆ, strong
Drawn by serpent’s chariot wheels;
Your cauldron brewed the Fairy Lord.
There, the Fairy Lord’s mischief sung;
The black harbinger’s masters reel
To and fro upon lightning fords.
Brittos, after beating the GrÆ
Had not Elora’s meed-wine tongue,
Because Athena, that false dog
Came incarnate in MedÆ
Binding Elora with crafts strong.
MedÆ, who be leagued with Dogs.
MedÆ used the rocks to give
Men false visions of all wisdom
Imbued with Fairy Lord’s mœgic.
The rocks glew, with glass panes and fibs
Spewing forth an ethereal hum
MedÆ now borne the mœgic.
Brittos had a spell, to dream false.
The dreams, both waking and sleeping
Terrorized him in the night’s winds.
MedÆ’s, a fairy, spoke oft
In Brittos, sweetly chattering
So! Brittos had to it be rid.
So! The only way to be rid
Of a Nephilim soul’s blithe fear
Is to have faith in grace assured---
That grace to overcome its fib;---
For the Nephilim soul doth leer
The fat soul, by worldgain allured.
The fairy be a gaint’s soul
Put in Brittos unwillingly.
The spell a carnal idol
Of the Fairy Lord’s lighted ghouls;
Brittos must rid it hastily
Or lose Elora to the Orc.
The Orc, a sea monster with gills
Spiny fins, blue as ocean’s depth
And mouth gaping with fangs for teeth
Spewed from’t depths for sacrifice-fill
An evil monster was this wretch
To whom MedÆ sent my Heath.
Canto II
Asleep, afoul, the giant’s soul
Caus’d Brittos to fight brutish black
Shadows in the dark night season.
Brittos claw’d, as the shadow culled
Brittos, torn apart; then put back
He knew not the sundry reason.
He call’d on his God, without ans
So Brittos sought a wise counsel.
Noe, his lord and father, spake he:
“Brittos, my son Shem, longpast times
“Giants and elves ruled the lush hills
“When Methuselah reigned as king.
“The elves and giants use science
“To rule the times, and to give dreams.
“Thus was the reason God wash’d them.
“For, son, thou art olden, seven
“Tens years thou art. It seems
“Thou art old, but this I lend.
“Thou wert but a child, when thou
“Wast brought on God’s tall gopher boat.
“It toss’d in the waves, to and fro
“As through the tempest waves it plowed.
“Yes, these elves and giants it smote
“Yet Babylon uses their souls.
“Babylon, the great serpent crown
“Kingdom of Satyrs and Dragons
“Giants, Sea Monsters and the worm.
“They possess the science renown
“To place giant souls inside one
“To change nature, times and all form.
“Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar
“Be old as times and country sieves.
“It comes, with the death of all trees.
“From North Country they come, afar
“With the powers of Satan’s kings.
“Thirteen Kings’ folly brings these things.
“For when the thirteen wage their war
“The nations rage and fight for tor
“Then comes the three beasts of our lore.
“The Beast, Devil and False Prophet
“Come after wars of these curs’d letches.
“The elves and giants, at these wrong times
“Walked in murder, to dream their lives
“With the giant souls they sought wives
“Money, fame, longevity, tor
“They lusted for life with murder.
“Blasphemed they, to death eternal.
“Only assurance of God’s love
“Can reverse the curse my good son.
“For the Kings wage their blasted fun
“Yet you have caught their attention.
“For this I am sorry, Brittos
“You must have faith in God’s blest hope.”
Thus, Brittos wept for the cruel deed
Done to him by MedÆ’s craft.
For Brittos was a happy sort.
He had hope in Elora’s seed
With her tongue to make his soul fat.
So! she was stolen, and he hurt.
The giant soul spake a wo’s voice
Thwarting Brittos’ every good hope;
He speaks to the future: listen!
The giant soul brings dreams so choice
Showing futures for one to grope.
Cease from it! For t’is idol Baal!
Brittos walked in fear for his soul
Walking, wandering, as it spoke.
Listen, good fellows: forsake it!
T’is an idol, a sordid ghoul
Borne by MedÆ’s crafty hoax.
Abandon the idol’s cruel vex!
Canto III
Listen well, of MedÆ’s son
Wicked John, puppeteer of men.
Wicked John could use giant souls
To control any victim’s tongue
Foot, hand, any thing he could bend
So long as inside was that ghoul.
MedÆ called forth her strange son
To bend Brittos to horrid feud.
His body became a puppet
With strings and bars, so Brittos lung’d
At MedÆ’s enemies lewd.
Good men fell by Brittos’ rude hits.
Brittos required grace assur’d
To stop the puppet master’s bend.
Brittos, to break the wicked spell
Sought God the LORD; His living Word.
Nothing could Brittos do to lend
Mighty blows to this living 'ell
For the spell was strong on Brittos
And only grace’s assurance
Could save him from the strings of John.
Brittos swung wild swings at foes
To fend the terrible grievance.
This internal foe naught be won.
Wicked John would come to appear
At Brittos’ terrified dismay.
He bent poor Brittos like Merry
Even so many others here.
To have the giant soul’s strong sway
Meant Wicked John’s strings did parry.
Wicked John was a fallen god
That is Judge of ancient orders.
Brittos, bount by gray strings, walk’d stripp’d
Of his conscience when Wicked John
Bent those bars to demon rancor.
Only grace could, the curse, lift it.
Brittos prayed, but knew not the name
Of His God. Brittos wept tears.
Brittos trekked to the gaps, sailed;
Left the Isles called of him great.
He sail’d on a galley, strong keel.
Naught known His God’s name, he be failed.
While gone, Prince Richard and his King
Lucifer the Tyrant did reign
Breaking ground New Tyre’s colony.
The two be Danish, from the sea,
These stablished Lear as the suzerain
So! The beach gat swamp’d by galleys.
A curious woman, nude, clad
In lighted apparel did come.
She spake to Brittos, sex in voice.
“Brittos, I can show thy God’s land
As well as the name of His Son
Who came in spirit, not flesh choice.”
Brittos knew not the saying’s law.
He assented to the journey.
The elf took out a jewel, and spake.
In a flash of moment turn’d all
Different; now all be lusty.
Glass buildings stood tall, boats flew great.
In the sky, the boats flew with strength.
On the streets, chariots growl’d loud
Carrying men to their workseats.
Water flowed from the black-stone lengths
Of streets, as lightning brought all now
The Fairy Lord’s stones to worship sleek.
The elf scampered away, a trick
She disappeared by squeezing down
A drainage pipe’s raw, narrow, grate.
Brittos saw Jezebel ruled thick
Possessing this gossiping crown.
Brittos could not beat all their hate.
Men doted on their Fairy Stones
Looking their soul’s gaft reflections.
They all fed Jezebel’s gossip.
Brittos knew Elora was gone
Slain by the Orc, that vexation.
The Orc was MedÆ’s vile kid.
Brittos need go back, to save her
And to reverse this devil’s dive.
For Nebuchadnezzar, Nebo
Zoan and Lucifer seeth’d war.
If there’d be war, the beasts would live.
Then, Armageddon’s blood would flow.
Canto IV
Brittos, now in times fore those days
Wandered through streets of black tarmac.
Two joyful men approached Brittos.
“Ah, thee, we know not what to say
We be Paul and Solomon; past
Ye be of us, ye we do know.”
Brittos told of the Mœgic used
To bring he to the future times.
Solomon, the wisest man old
Spake these words, but so very few.
“Brittos, we call thou Shem, Noe’s line.
“A great man, Noe’s story now told.
“Earth, Brittos, be ancient in days;
“The Elvin magic be mœgic
“The science of Babylon’s reign.
“Who takes life from men, it doth spake
“And uses its technologic
“Powers to fuel wicked, gross things.
“They use’th a Jewel time device.
“The crystal thou saw glew ghost white
“For the life of man be stolen
“To operate such wicked vice.
“For the crystal steals the man’s life
“To power the Jewel’s timebreadth bend.
“An Elf stole myself and this Paul.
“Elf invented the time machine.
“The flood destroyed all life but Noe
“Past, present and fore man’s first fall.
“For it be hidden in man’s time
“They call this, Dispensation. Lo!
“We heard of thy terrible plight,
“Lovely Elora raped by Orc.
“Gobbled up, after raped away
“Then Elf promised to save her life.
“She told thou to seek God’s name-word
“Took thou to where thou never stayed.
“God’s good name, Brittos, is Jesus
“Healer of sins. For assurance
“Yea! Tor! from a Nephilim Soul
“One must accept the LORD’s Son’s Cross
“Yea! Sure of Isaiah’s Vision
“Told to you fore, but Paul of old.”
Brittos was given direction
Back to his good, bless’ed Isle
Where Arthur reigned with wicked rule.
Not after finding the Orc’s sons
Whom Arthur, behooved by guile
Was tempted by the grail; a fool.
The sons of the Orc, its fractured
Soul, death inhabited in men
Who only die by beheading
Came to Brittos by the sanded
Fronts of beach, five, with masks of skin
They shook swords, ready for fighting.
In came one, whom Brittos blasted
As well as another, entrails
Engorged, swallowed by Brittos’ spear.
The beasts still fought, moved like foul death
Crawling over bloody chain mail.
The beasts, death they did not here fear.
Brittos bashed one’s head, it split twain
Fell; more he’d decapitate.
The demons lie dead, all around.
After the weapons rattled clanks
A great swath of steel and wood glate
The Orcs be dead, none be found.
Brittos then saw Mordred, the knight
Draw his sword to kill Brittos dead.
Brittos rais’d his spear, to draw fight.
A strong blow came aft, did alight
Upon the strong shaft of the wood.
Swung the spear, the limb’s breadth in flight
Caught Mordred, past wounds, eye and arm;
Brittos swung again, when Mordred
Called forth armies upon the hill.
Spiders, wargs, orcs, the host alarm’d
Storm’d down, many to now be killed.
Brittos took up spear, had his fill.
“Brittos, Brittos, warrior of here
“We had in our records you’d show.
“For Babylon has every move
“You’ll make. Now, we have it, so fear
“For we know all of you, my foe.
“Your chance of living behooves you.
“For, we know you die in fire
“Many times; sometimes dragging thou
“To our very good 'ell. Stay now
“I am Lucifer, King of Tyre
“Brittos, we’ll cause you to avow
“All love for Jesus; our strength’s proud.
“For you’ve not battled us devils
“Except MedÆ, so we’ll win.
“For Thirteen are confederate
“Kings against Brittos, Noe’s seed’s fill.
“We wish you to die, in thy sin.
“Old we, Aeons, we see thy fate.
“Join us, Brittos, or meet thy doom
“For Elora be forsook here;
“She be eaten by the Sea Orc
“Whose five children slew you here through.
“Now, the blood is paid, forsake her
“And riches and wives we’ll assure.”
Brittos saw the plot was his life
He, not able to defeat them,
Fled, not before hearing this song:
“Brittos flees on boats
“Arthur’s Richard’s coat
“Good kings do fall too
“Brittos will be slewn.”
Brittos thought of his belov’d wife
Elora. Noe’s goodly son, Shem---
Christ, he need know, be more than song.
Canto V
Brittos, to get back Elora
Searched for half-score years through the lands.
He searched for that elf whom he knew
And found her in the auroras
Of the northern earth’s blue frostpans.
The elf used mœgic, her sums grew.
Ten thousand one automatons
Only one was the foul Cretan.
So Brittos sought to test.
He took a lodestone of iron
Throwing it into the crowd grands
The lodestone powered by Earth’s gust.
Automatons---Brittos knew much---
Clustered together, their life endt.
Brittos then saw the Elf’s nude form.
The Elf drew her strong bow back such
That it cracked at the weighted bent;
The arrow shot a lighted storm.
Brittos raised his whalebone, white shield
Yet the lighted air broke it twain.
That scrimshaw work of art was rent.
Brittos raised his trusted spear leered
Throwing the shaft like pelted rain.
Through the gut of that elf it went.
The elf, her prithies spilled with dirt
Fell, turning to a dirty sort;
For underneath this creature wild
Is a leather, pointed eared dwarf.
The fat belly, and rawhide fur
Used Babylon’s mœgic so vile.
Brittos fell p’on the fairy stone
Yet knew not how to use its strength.
The last elf be dead, Ho! Brittos
Was still in this nightmare’s fore home.
Brittos gave up on the wroth synth
Longing for his one blessed wo.
Brittos oblith’ed the Fairy Stone
By striking it seventy times
Upon a mountain edge’s rock.
To dust it was rent, dust was flown
Off the fairy stone’s glass and lime.
The fairy stone was now just chalk.
Canto VI
Brittos trekked long, his soul wounded;
He searched for Paul and Solomon.
Finding the two, he wept with tears.
“Why doth thou weep, my Christ kindred?”
Asked Paul, one of God’s lovely sons.
“Because, I have lost all good fear!”
Paul and Solomon stood by him
Wiping away tears of sorrow.
“Brittos, ask, and it shall be grant.”
“I wish to fix what’s mistaken
“In my life of sorrow and woe!
“She be ate up by a Giant!”
Paul spake these good, comforting words,
“Brother, all men have their deep woes
“Many ‘ave lost loved Elora.
“There she is, eaten by the Orc
“Heartpangs of sin become aught foe.
“For you lost? Is this you sure of?”
Solomon thus spoke, wise and true.
“Brother, live in the present, now
“For the Orc has eaten your bride.
“That Orc called despair inside you
“And Elora thy maiden vow’d
“For the sting you feel, t’is inside.
“To regain your bride, none can cause
“But another Elora find.
“For time is all history’s past.
“None can change the strong eon’s law.
“Brittos, thou can seek a new friend
“To save Elora, thy hope last.
“Defeat the Orc inside your bones
“Rise up against MedÆ’s bonds
“For to go back and change times rends
“The heart, and makes one all alone.
“You cannot change the past, my son---
“You can make new futures again.
“For, when the Orc is defeated
“Orc who stole Elora away;
“That Giant despair of failure
“A new Elora be meted
“To you, to give you hopes so gay
“Then you will have your bright pasture.
“The Orc is your unsure nature
“Of God’s good gift to you, Brittos.
“The gift is free to who believes;
“Belief is what brings our verdure.
“Brittos, God gave belief to show
“That our fears ought all be relieved.
“For, the giant soul inside you
“T’is fanned by the Orc’s blue guilt-fin;
“It is your fear of God’s good grace
“Because of sins so very lewd;
“Those sins, all God has forgiven
“So, fear is to live by good faith.
“Faith you have, a met condition
“For faith is all you need for tor.
“Yet, Satan binds you with workgrace
“So you fear to lose salvation.
“All men are imprisoned by war
“Of sins beneath their head’s good lace.
“So, do not fear; you’re imperfect,
“For God shows mercy to belief.
“T”is belief, and then refining
“That makes you repent and reflect.
“For God draws out our sin’s harsh grief,
“Not we, through strokes, and our pining.”
The talk endt. Brittos slept with dreams.
There, the Giant Spirit challenged
Brittos, to battle’s wicked heat.
The Shadow, Brittos grabbed, to defeat
Making it small, Brittos avenged
When Brittos woke, he was not free.
He slept a second night, to win
This time the Giant Spirit came
As a flesh monster, large to fright.
Brittos fought it, his past bad sins
It’s club fell upon Brittos’ shame.
Brittos blocked, giving a good fight.
Brittos won the battle, squarely
So woke to see it still in he.
This monster not slain, he thought dead
So struggled he, Brittos, lively
How can such a wild thing be beat?
A creature borne from man’s deep dread?
Brittos knew the good name of God
Why wasn’t this creature beaten?
Why not the foul ghoul be destroyed?
For seven years Brittos prayed strong
The foul beast woke Brittos heaving.
No way could he beat it, so prayed.
Long last, he felt the thing’s dread leave.
After many tearired days.
The thing was gone, aft’ years of prayer.
No man can, this dread, defeat.
For, to be rid of such dismay
It takes God’s good power so fair.
Canto VII
MedÆ and Wicked John glid
To where Brittos, many days, slept.
In their hands were glew fairy stones.
“We hear you have beaten your stead
“That idol, your Giant Spirit.
“We are to give another one.”
Brittos instead flung mighty blows
At MedÆ; John threw a spell.
It was disgraceful filth, wo’s blood
Dried seed, born from one the same foe;
Elf mœgic can make man wo; ‘ell!
T’is Babylon’s mischief, and cud.
For the cud of Babylon’s grief
Is false science, and strong idols.
The Fairy Lord’s mœgic glows free.
For Brittos could move not a leaf
Of his hair; the dirt made him fooled.
There Brittos stood like a bare tree.
MedÆ then told a story:
Canto VIII:
“Man was wise
“So he made
“Damascus
“Steel, so prize’
“All he gave
“The lost crux.
“So! all my
“Brethren kings
“Fought this man.
“Naught he died
“He’d us sting
“So we ran.
“Glow red smote
“He seven
“Of us kings
“Sent he most
“Men’s leaven
“Beasts to leave.
“To 'ell draught
“The seven
“Went there back.
“Their beasts naught.
“He heaven
“Bound, ransacked
“The seven
“He heaven
“Bound ransacked
“The seven
“Their leaven.
“The Faith LORD’s
“Goodness rent
“The seven.
“No more whore
“Their spirits sent
“The leaven
“Back to 'ell
“By faith’s life.
“Who are you
“Brittos--- tell.
“With no wife.
“Lonely you.
“Are you he?
“Nay, a fool
“Challenging
“The thirteen.
“The ore’s spool
“Faltering.
“Damascus
“Steel, you don’t
“Make, what hope
“Has your love?
“You will grope
“In the dark
“Elora
“Eaten still.
“You are farce
“Brittos, ah?
“We’ve our fill.”
Canto IX
Brittos prayed to his LORD Jesus.
While John bent his little, doubt will.
Brittos’s shield fell from heaven!
The shield, scrimshaw and all, gripped thus
Broke the vex of Wicked John’s spell.
Brittos smote John’s Fairy Stone bent
Then again, ‘till it be just dust.
From it came the Fairy Lord’s ghost!
Only a shade, it drew it’s sword
Down upon Brittos’ shield with thrust
Ogcragknock, Excalibur’s foe
The two parried their weapons fore.
Two hours the battle lasted
A thrust of Ogcragknock crackled
As Brittos’ spear bowed with power.
Blocked by the Spear, the sword fastened
Brittos disarmed the ghoul’s tackle.
Down went Ogcragknock, much louder
Than a volcano. The ghoul’s grip
Tightened around the sword, thrust through
Though it could not be killed by spear.
Brittos smote Fairy Lord with tip
He flung beneath the ground, so shrewd.
Up came Fairy Lord, without fear.
Brittos jeered, to and fro, to, fro.
The battle was nearly lost foul.
Brittos then prayed his prayer, binding
That glewing white Fairy Lord, ghost.
Brittos need not strike it, it allowed
Itself to go to 'ell sinking.
MedÆ drew her chariot
Up the serpents rais’d the black box.
Brittos smote the serpent’s head off.
The other bit Brittos’ anklet
Its venom null and void, the fox
Be struck off at the head now caught.
Wicked John fled; fell in a pit.
His potion leaked into his soul.
Brittos then smote MedÆ’s head.
MedÆ, a potion mistress
Knew not mortal combat to hold.
MedÆ now be, not aught, dead.
So, Brittos flung back through all times
To where Orc be summ’d from the sea.
The monstrous beast raised, with finscales.
Its jagged teeth dripped venom slime
So Brittos saw Elora’s glee.
She saw Brittos, so prayed for gales
To pick up Brittos, wind at back.
So, Brittos scaled the mountain edge
Where the Orc slowed to Elora.
Brittos scaled, unboundt her gaunt shacks.
Brittos kissed Elora with pledge
So slid down the crusted hills of
The cliff, to where the Orc raged wroth.
Brittos chucked his spear at the cliff
Slicing the nethers of the mount
So that an avalanche fell top
The Orc, the cliff’s boulders did shift.
Down fell boulders, squishing the louse.
The Orc dead, Brittos had a wife.
All mœgic stopped for a good time.
Brittos made love to Elora,
Bore scores of childflesh for life.
He lived in his isle, not king;
A peasant, who was loved by all.
Canto X
LORD, my God, creator of being
Bring my story into focus.
For LORD, I say this Fairyland
Has helped your servant goodly sing.
For it’s here to teach that Jesus
Is our only true good garland.
LORD, understand, this here I sing
To help men to come to you, naught fear
But forgiveness’ great victory.
LORD, teach men to obey all things
To be free from guilt by your cheer
And naught take this literally.
For LORD, I say this, Young Shadows
Creep into my very foul dreams.
LORD, stay back these delusions please.
For, LORD, victory over woes
Is to believe on You it seems.
Do with this story as You see.
XVII. Helen of Troy
Lucifer, husband of Helen of Troy
Nebo seeth’d for her comeliest of flesh.
Nebo, father of one hundred children
Elder Father to one thousand children
So on out to thirty generations.
Bull of Bashan, who warred with creation.
Nebo had sons born of no woman’s womb.
So adopted a son, whom he made heir.
Lucifer gave his sweet wife to Nebo
On alms that he not seed with her an heir.
So, Nebo’s son Cyrus did things foolish.
He spoilt the daughter of Jezebel’s flesh.
Cyrus slept in poverty for a time.
Nebo wish’d to give Helen to Cyrus.
Cyrus, a prophet, perceived a great war.
Ziddonians were ashamed of Nebo;
Nebo who made alliances with Tyre.
Lucifer being their Syrian king.
Lucifer was Nebo’s son, and Helen
Be Nebo’s lov’d Daughter-In-Law-German.
Thus, Nebo’s heir was given as consort
Not to Helen, but Babylon’s sister.
So, Babylon’s goodly belov’d husband
Weighed prudently to seek this matter.
Cyrus was laden with interest by all.
He, being wise, entreated them all to
Ephraim, who threw his mischievous lot.
Cyrus, slave to all kingdoms vexed all.
They sought to sting him, forsake and kill him.
Yet they could not, for he waxed skilled with pen.
Thirteen Principalities sought his death.
Yet Cyrus blessed them all comely instead.
One by one, their blessings fell upon each.
Their craft stopp’d working for a thousand years.
Cyrus, yet still, could do no goodly thing.
He could not prosper his apportion’d lot.
His life was vex’d, until Elijah came
To make inquiry of him and his lot.
“Little Cyrus, you took my enemies
“To task. Speak well, for you have not blasphemed.”
Cyrus prospered his lot with fruitful loves
And kisses from his beloved spousefriend.
Not much else did he ask, nor was given.
Yet, Lucifer saw Nebo seed Helen;
They bore a manchild, comely and smart.
Lucifer raged at this, long past Cyrus.
Cyrus, in the grave, wept, for he wrought it.
The battle lines were set, so set to doom.
Lucifer bandt with Zoan and Israel.
Thus, they rushed into Nebo’s goodly lands
To slaughter, and such war wrought great death-pains.
The Thousand years Cyrus bound with blessing
Erupted into wars, where the thirteen kings
Fought to the death, until only one stood.
Kings ode, know this is only Fairyland.
Yet, you seethe for this knowledge I do know.
It will not prosper; Cyrus has you boundt.
XVIII. Brittos and Thor
Canto I
In his apple orchard, Brittos sat gay
With Elora, his good wife for all days.
A mist appeared through the plush, august leaves
Thick fog lapped upon the rich, wooded trees.
A man appeared, taking the fruit, gleaning.
It was king David, come for a meeting.
He told Brittos these faithful, sullen words:
“Brittos, there arose a false God named Thor.
“God wishes to raise up a good agent
“To take down Thor’s great army of Norse Men
“Who kill the good Christmen of your isle.
“In they come, in waves of violent guile
“To destroy, rape and pillage Christian townsfolk.”
The riddle was asked by good old Brittos:
“Why cannot King David beat this wroth beast?”
David spake, “Ho! For me, it’s too easy.”
Brittos feared losing his good Elora
“I could lose my good wife and my honor.”
King spake, “Brittos, we wish to raise a meek
“Warrior to beat the Heathen God, that weak
“Wretched sinner, who will kill good, great men.
“He will slit their throat, and smash their skull in
“While his victims sleep. Brittos, will take strength?
“Another can be raised to beat this Venk.
“I give an ultimatum. Fight or not.”
Brittos, hard and long on this he deep thought.
“Be there punishment, If I give a no?”
David spake, “Not for this, I do say so.”
Brittos then spake, “Be there reward, for yes?”
David spake, “Why did thou fight that GrÆ’s test?”
“Because it be good, and the right honor.
“There were townsfolk in utter, blithe horror.”
“Then, I say this, no reward is given.
“You either fight Thor, or another wins.
“No punishment or reward awaits you
“For taking or denying of this feud.”
Brittos then asked, “Why me, goodly right King?”
“Because, you are weaker than David’s strength.
“Zalmun could beat this Thor with one aught blow.
“Beowulf can beat Wyrm, but does not know.
“I slew Goliath Nephilim with stone;
“For our faith is measured to our great foes.
“Yours is Thor, a meager, lothful false god;
“You are measured to his wicked, strong wroth.”
Brittos thus spake, “I will go, on one point:
“Guarantee my victory; this anoint.
“For I have beautiful wife Elora
“I wish, if I go, tor be assured of.”
David assented, and prayed this prayer.
“LORD, let Broomhill, who has no wife here yor
“Win his battle against that wicked Thor.
“For Broomhill has no wife, but Yours fights for;
“So if he chose to walk the path of grace
“Make sure he wins that blessed, goodly race.”
David’s prayer guaranteed Brittos’ good chaste
Body to beat Thor, that aught, evil wraith.
Canto II
Thor, that dog, heard that God had raised a “Brute”
To tear up Thor from his false, mangy roots.
Thor, with great rage that tore the depths of 'ell
Broke asunder--- Three of his friends he fell’d;
They with bashed in skulls; friends from sordid youth.
There they lay, limp bodies of dead, aught fools.
So, Thor did take out a book of deep spells
To send poor Brittos to Valhalla’s 'ell.
That book’s name, “The World of Ragnarok”
Bound with human scabs; Viking’s gleeful lot,
Be given by Odin, a dead lost dog.
Odin’s power, Thor’s might, this Brittos fought.
Into the book wrote Thor runic letters
After a rage, and slaughter of warriors.
The book had the powers of all broad 'ell,
Thus, Brittos had to fight through the book’s spell.
Thor took task to write, fore killing his wo.
A city of castles flew front Brittos
Atop the clouds, white with cotton plume.
The castles stood atop the clouds in view.
In the air, were a flock of strange, vile birds
Shaped like men, they carried weapons on’t girds.
Thousands, wild, leather armor with mail
Covered their bodies; they carried sun nails.
The Valkyries, who sling fire to earth
For anything green, they seethe this to burn.
The Valkyries’ castles flew through the air
Thor had imagined Brittos to be there.
Three saw Brittos, walking through the dark woods
So took a net, and captured Brittos good.
Brittos, with no defense or ans, struggled
As the birds swooped up this startled muggle.
Brittos, when taken to the castle’s walls
Was to be cooked in an iron pig’s bowls.
There, like Nero’s Christmen, he was now thrown
Fire kindled ‘neath the iron pig’s groan.
Brittos, hot in the belly of the pig
Nary got out, but he recalled his wish.
“Why am I forsaken, LORD, my good God?”
A voice did spake within he, “You are not.”
Brittos, with burns upon his tender legs
Punched through the snout of that loud iron-pig.
The Valkyries, impressed, took Brittos out.
They placed him in prison, for this renown.
“Thor could do no thing, he’d surely be cooked,
“Let us keep him in the bowls of our rook.
“For much fun could be made for us by he
“To fight as a Gladiator if needs;
“We will keep him kind, and not let him die.
“No athletes, in arenas, lose their life.
“That is, unless they are quite carelessly
“Thrust their weapons for mortal victory.”
The birds threw Brittos in prison with chains.
There, Brittos felt that David does not reign.
For three months, Brittos ate vegetables
Rice and wheat, he was quite miserable.
Canto III
Brittos was then brought out from his strong bonds
For a pair of hours, to be spat on
By the Warhawk, Valkyries harsh woes.
They tormented, two hours, poor Brittos.
The castles rose with their varying brick
Red, yellow, blue, gray and brown; there they’d sit.
With shingled steeples, misted by white clouds
Stain glass windows, depicting battlegrounds.
The war birds would fly, from castles to trees
Where in the black, charr’d branches, they’d relieve.
There they’d perch for hours without an end
After slinging their sun nails, those they’d send.
The Valkyries flew, through the steeple gaps
Down to the trees, and then right upward back.
Brittos, A Gladiator of a slave
Challenged the strongest of those wicked knaves.
Two pitted in an arena like Rome’s
One had net and dagger, to kill Brittos.
Up went the bird, into the black, foul air
Throwing his net, so Brittos was now snared.
The bird took out his shanks of sun nail bombs
To slaughter Brittos, it looked like wrong won.
Brittos grasped at his net, but did relax
Untangling himself in a minute’s pass.
Brittos thus tossed the net into the air
Snagging that bird by the wrists of a pair.
The bird tried to untangle itself now
So Brittos grabbed the bottom net there found.
He pulled the bird to the silty, tan dirt
The sunnail dropped, and into flames it burst.
Brittos flung away; the net trapped the bird.
That Valkyrie died in a thousand turns.
Brittos now demanded he be freed.
The Birds were sore wroth at his victory.
Thus, they placed Brittos back into his bonds;
He was a prisoner for another two months.
Canto IV
Brittos, in his deep chains, pray’d a prayer.
“LORD, help me find my Elora’s savor
“Her meed tongue and gentle womb for my loves.
“For, LORD, I know all good comes from above.
“LORD, I expect you know this problem’s might
“That this Thor is out to take my good life;
“For LORD, Thor is a villain called “Regret”
“The regret is my filthy, hormones; lest
“I be destroyed by a Fourteen Year Old.
“He is Thor, that young, false mongering whore
“Who took Elora’s meed wine away. Lo!
“I search for You Father, with past, gone woes.
“For a youth ought to know better, I say
“Yet, he like the Israelites asked grave
“For pheasant meat in the wilderness’ sands.
“LORD, please spare me from their wicked plan.
As Brittos pray’d his prayer, so slow and sweet
In came a guard with wrathful pheasant wings.
Down he swooped, from that high, strong stone tower
As Brittos lunged for its waist’s thin power.
The bird, unexpected, fell in a flush;
Feathers pluck’d from that wing ripp’d from the rush.
Brittos found himself upon the ground’s stead;
He broke that wicked bird’s foul, acrid head.
Brittos plotted for an hour’s long
He search’d for his tackle, through castle fog.
He found the king of the War Birds dining.
His tackle on the iron pig’s hind end.
He thrust for the shield and spear’s whalebone might
Thrusting, when none expected his swift flight.
He grasp’d that pearl spear of whalebone strength
Throwing the spear, so the king’s middle rent.
The Valkyrie’s fury as ‘ell’s wroth’s foe
Fluttered in wings and wicked, plumage shows.
Brittos, outnumbered, terribly outmatched
Ran with his tackle, to the castle’s vast
Walls, where he did fight seven of the beasts
Tying with nets, their loose dragging, dumb feet.
He jumped with the flock tied with hemp rope string
They did flout and fight; Brittos landt safely.
Brittos escaped, as the bird’s castle fell.
The wroth mœgic endt its terrible spell.
Canto V
Thor, sore loth at Brittos’ departure
Unearthed his little brother, sat down sure.
Loki, with thin gangles for arms and knees
Sat with mischief, so did he that Thor tease.
Loki, weak compared to his older bro
Flew upon his staff, and made his case known.
“Thor, you mangy imbecile, Valkyries?
“You might as well have strengthened Brittos’ feet.
“Here I say to you, good fine brother dear,
You’ll need stronger mœgic for this brute here.”
“Silence, prating fool, I’m a god, not you.”
“So, this is how you treat your beloved rule?
“To call Loki a prating fool? How dumb.
“Here is what I will tell you, my Tom Thumb;
“Which are you? He who forges destinies
“Or the Journeyman, one devil god’s son?”
“I’ll show you! One raised by gods, his blood’s good.”
Loki cackled, and there he and Thor stood.
Thor swept his hammer and bashed Loki dead
Right upon the crown of that frizzy head.
Thor, in blood lust, wrote runes with Loki’s blood
There, a new world opened up like a flood.
Brittos be in the land of Elves, those fools
Where all women, clad in light, here ruled.
Their prithies showed forth from the bright, false cloth
Found Brittos, to seduce, or kill with rock.
Brittos said, “No!” thus rushed away afraid
They forged a lie against Brittos that day.
False Fibsquawks were heard through the kingdom’s reign
How Brittos violated; those Elve’s stain’d.
A Joseph was Brittos made now right here
The elves sought to throw him in jail for years.
Brittos runs with all haste to get away
As the elves shift into raptors; dismay
Found Brittos’ heart there with great woes, fear!
The feathered raptors took Brittos’ cheer.
Brittos hid in the house of an old wo
With wrinkled face, and dearth for body’s show.
She ran out from the fields of amber wheat
Where her house stood so she could get good sleep.
Brittos, with no other hope, took to task
To listen to that woman, whom him asked.
They ate porridge over rice, with strong gruel
As the woman plucked a spindle of wool.
She began to tell Brittos of the crux;
How the Elves and Giants were born of us.
Odes began, this next Canto will describe
The villains Elves--- their sorcery of lies.
Canto VI
Long ago, in the days of Methuselah
There was a race of snails
Who had jewels which could mold their form
Into any manner.
The Elves were once men
But found these jewels,
So then became immortal.
The snails were a people
Who lived on Earth with
The Giants and Elves.
They used their very breath
To work the gems,
So grew to have no good.
The Elves clad themselves with light
Across nude breasts
And pink prithies
Yet without the gems
They were grotesquely obese.
The snails were a race from other stars
The elves, snails and giants roamed the earth
During the days of Methuselah
While he wept bitterly for their wrought destruction.
During the great war between men, elves and snails
They learned the art of the Valkyrie and Harpy.
The elves grew bold,
To use the Progeny of Methuselah
To fuel their sciences, with their blood.
Men lived in their tribes,
As the Elves tinkered with their seed.
“Make man an ape!” said the elves.
Noe, your father, Brittos,
Saw that much mischief was wrought
With the elf kind, so he fasted and prayed.
God therefore wiped them out with the flood!
This you know.
The elves hid themselves in stony fortresses
Underneath the ground,
But were utterly destroyed by the floods
Which seeped into hell
And killed all of hellkind.
MedÆ, with her potions
Found the elf souls borne into the clefts of stone
And the blood of hell, which manflesh calls
“Oil, Silicon and Coal.”
She used the Fairy Lord’s Mœgic
To resurrect the elves
Through the fairy stones
By boring them into men.
Now, here they are
Until Thor is beaten back.
Until he perishes, the Elfkind
Will not leave.
Canto VII.
Like Jericho’s Wo, so, did Brittos show
His thanks to the old woman’s gracious love.
Brittos observed the gross elvish kingdom
Where the elves had all of their sick elf fun.
Buildings made from light, flying chariots
Strange animals of crossbred sciences.
The elves stood nude, clad in light, making love
In the broad daylight’s sun, with no love’s touch.
The buildings of light, with sun sailed barges
Streaming past with large, bee hive sails, largest
In the middle, puffed out, with the silk road
Linking them and the planet Mars. No flood
Was to wipe them out this time, unfortunate
Was Brittos to observe their social fate.
For the raw light of a sun pushed their sails
Forward with the hexagonal chain mail.
Across void oceans these barges soared high
Bringing to men Babylon’s merchandise.
For here was the goods of all duped mankind
Brought on these sky barges so hard to find.
The elves worked hard to make men so gleeful.
They worked with their tools, ever so cheerful.
Here, they sought out Enoch’s kindly good kin
The war Alban fought for but didn’t win.
The elves, in their high towers of lightning
Shot through the stars ever so frightening.
Here, the beautiful wos did cuddle wroth;
They basked in the blood of Saint Alban’s lot.
Zoan, the Satyr, tore up from ‘ell’s darkpits
With all of Egypt’s dead host behind him.
There, the Satyr spewed forth his evil brew
Of the blood from hell, which men’s wagons used.
They murdered, pillaged, lied and raped mankind
With their bloody and wicked merchandise.
Nothing God commanded did they obey
For they were a heathen, full of dismay.
Enoch came down from heaven to here tall;
Enoch said, “Do not take myth literal;
“It’s purpose is to peer into man’s being
“To draw out the futures and pasts unseen.
“For men have taken my name with distress
“To forge a forgery at my behest.
“For I was a good man, called up to Christ
“They say I wrote a book in my good life.
“For, this author, to make goodly right sense
“Needs you to know, this book’s not religion.
“The Bible’s is for God’s revelation
“This book is for Broomtreehill’s Salvation.
“For this book is to purge evil, wroth thoughts
“To confront his wicked delusions wrought
“By MedÆ’s fairy stones, and her son.
“It is a gift given him by God’s love.
“So, understand men and women of fore
“Do not take literal what’s only lore.
“This is fairyland; so is Enoch’s book.
“Pay no heed to Jewish fables, lo, look!
“For, in this, here, wise and creative thing:
“Witness the danger of technology.
“For love is a comfort more than glew stones
“And what pleasures you’d reap, all else is gone.”
Enoch, with power, took Brittos away.
Brittos knew that he had to win the day.
For battle was near the gates of mankind
For the elf mischief was now to unwind.
Canto VIII
Thor, wroth to the blood of Christ’s goodly sheep
Rag’d sore mad, to make men bow at his feet.
With twisted rage and such unjust ire
Thor used the strength of wicked ‘ell fire.
“That Brittos, by way of who? got away.
“I wish to destroy him this very day.
“I’ll send him to the land of Jotunheim
“To destroy him before his God in time.
“Brittos will be small, and thoroughly crush’d.
“There I will isolate him from all love.
“He will be small, like the tiniest ant
“I will destroy him, with this song and dance!
“Brittos is my very worst, horrid foe
“Someone keeps saving him, this I know.
“Someone with strong Mœgic, I do here see
“Saves Brittos from I, his wroth enemy!”
Thor, with Odin’s old book and Loki’s blood
Wrote runes in a rage, when he killed his love.
Brittos found himself ripped into the air
He flew into black space with much despair.
Below him was the earth like a table
With the continents like a crown fable!
Beneath the earth’s circle were mountain peaks
Red like horrid hell which sat underneath.
Brittos fell until he found himself land
In a bedrock of shale, flat as a pan.
He peered around, to find enormous men
Who stood thousands miles tall; his heart rent.
Brittos, like a small microbial cell
In the land of Giants, which stood as ‘ell
Found himself small and miserable, it’s true;
He knew not what it was that he should do.
Canto IX.
In the distance, where Brittos look’d agaze
He saw the beastly giants fornicate.
Three, upon the shale, rolled in a ball mass.
They were completely nude, and ‘ellish crass.
Brittos saw a wo’s head turn strawberry
As it was eaten up very merry.
Then, it be vomited back up puke red
To reform that Giant’s plump, seeded head.
He saw men turn to animals bodies
Where they fornicated with even these.
He saw men turn their mouths to wo’s prithies
Where they gleed fully here with no pity.
The homes were flying sheds; flung by Mœgic.
Through this infinite world, Brittos trekk’d
Avoiding the piles of Giant orgies.
The world was where no sense made any.
Lovesick and homesick for good Elora
An angel came to him, in an aura.
“Brittos, the Garden of Earthly Delights
“Depicts this land, where many lands alight.
“See here, this is what you wish to avoid
“In Earth; for God let you come to destroy
“The worldly things you see in this land.
“It is World, ten thousand years advanced.
“Brittos, without God, see these giants play
“With sorcery’s Mœgic so lewd and gay?
“This is the world where sin took its root.
“For you were cast here to sing on your lute.
“Realize that up there be the earthly realm
“And here be the Giant’s large land of ‘ell.
“For, ask, and you will see their loves are naught.
“For they are lusty animals, without.
“God’s palaces shall forsake beasts like these
“Idolaters, sorcerers, murders, thieves.
“Understand that they only like to breed
“Now, come back to Earth where You’ll fight Thor, please.”
The Angel, with six wings and eyes all round
Took Brittos up into Jotunheim’s clouds.
There, the dagger mounts of the earth above
Shifted to below, where the table touched
The black suspension of the nothing air.
Brittos flew away, leaving behind care.
Thus Brittos understood what none else did,
A land of Giants below the Earth lives.
Why, here, did I visit in subconscious
To see The Garden of Hieronymous?
To do away with superstition’s leer
That false god Thor who lets me have no cheer.
Canto X.
Brittos landt in the land of his namesake
Where the venks burned, pillaged and they did rape
Slaughtering Christian men and all good wos;
An army of ten grand came from the coasts.
Brittos drew his spear, ready for good tor
As the army of Venks ready for war
Met him in the open fields of Britain.
The Venks sent a message to make certain
That Brittos would surrender his isle.
Brittos slaughtered the messenger’s guile.
The Venks bashed their shields, in ten grands column.
Brittos spoke, “Venks be just men! Come and Fight!”
The ten thousand, with war beasts mounted stud
Rushed down the hill in a great, torrid flood.
Their brown armor shivered upon the crest
As ten grands were to meet Brittos’ distress.
Brittos, shod in whalebone shield, carved with knives
No armor upon that goodly lion
Recalled Noe’s battle with the raging floods.
In came the wave of Venks, as Brittos’ spear flung.
Twenty Venks turned to gore, their bones shot fore
Killing fifteen more. Brittos clashed a shield
Swung his spear, killed one hundred in the field.
The Venks battle cries left out a dark roar.
Brittos took the jawbone with his fingers
Breaking the teeth of a Venk in seizure
Taking the bone, and bashing one grand troops.
Brittos used the pointed flesh to gore true.
Brittos grasped his spear, lost in the sore fight
As the Venks routed into a great flight.
Brittos chucked his spear into the column
Killing fifty men there where he saw them.
Brittos raced faster to the routing men
Tearing the fleeing troop with his bare hands.
At the end of the day ten grands troops march’d
At the end, seven stood with battle scars.
Brittos walked to the city they pillaged.
Chests of good wos and babes paved the village.
The Venks tormented the Christian townsfolk.
Now, a Nethanim was sent to bound old
Rivalries between the Danes and British.
Brittos won, the battle was here finished.
Thor, in his flying boat, dropped anchor now.
He lowered the gangplank, his warriors down.
Canto XI.
Thor, with no notion of loss, charg’d Brittos
With his belt, Thor’s strength was so very old
He wrestled Brittos, beating him near cold.
Brittos swung his fist, winding his wroth foe
The two wrestled for ten hours, now told.
Brittos took Thor’s arm, breaking its hold
When that hammer swathed into Thor’s wroth hand
Brittos dove, to grab his spear here again.
Thor’s hammer cracked upon the whalebone shaft
Breaking it twain, he uppercut Thor’s back
Slicing red fissures of blood through leather
Thor slipped upon a glove of gold silver.
Thor swung that hammer, beating back the shield.
Brittos took ten blows, ‘til he stabbed Thor’s heel.
Thor fell, like Achilles’ pride, Brittos shaved
Thor’s beard with his whalebone knife; beat the knave.
Brittos killed Thor quick, he stabbed Thor’s stone heart---
Fell dead among his Venks, lost from the start.
Brittos looked at the dead, both Brit and Venk;
Heroes are rais’d when there’s dearth of Christians.
Canto XII.
Brittos was met by David here again
They talk’d about the battle with the Venks.
“Brittos, you slew many men here today;
“Teach the world why sometimes men need slain.
“For in a time of desperate evil
“Lives must be lost when Christmen are feeble.
“For understand that the Venks had Demons
“They were almost Orcs, filled with their leaven.
“Brittos, I speak now a bold, solid word:
“Have no regard for the wicked man’s worth.
“When peace is wrought at the expense of Christ
“It’s no peace, but a time Christians must fight.
“Understand that God sparred not little ones
“For their cultures are gross, and cannot be won
“To Christ for the Kingdom, thus death must be
“The duty of Christians to spare not these.
“For Brittos, demons do exist, be sure
“Sometimes peace is a guise for silent war.
“For the World spares its own but not us
“For when we die, they cry about our love.
“Brittos, these Venks here do proclaim the truth:
“When a Thor rises up, it’s time to shoot.
“Now, in ages of great peace, understand:
“The peace is built on ever shifting sand.
“For you must realize one thing above all:
“Miracles follow battle when Christ calls.
“For you slew a thousand men with jaw bone
“Understand the metaphor here is old.
“We, in our ever present peacetime wealth
“Do not understand the season for health’s
“Amputation of society’s limbs.
“When the wicked cry “Peace”, they kill Christmen.
“So, do not be fooled, Brittos, of peacetime.
“Sometimes war needs fought for our future lives.
“Yet, in the age where Valkyrie’s craft’s known
“Brittos, wars need fought with words and not stones.”
XIX. We Are the Hero of Our Own Story
So! Like Brittos, we struggle
To overcome our inner demons.
Just remember, it is all Deux Ex Machina;
The Thirteen Kings, or the One True KING Jesus Christ.
For, we in our heroic struggles
Seek through all odds to overcome the Orc
Or to unbind ourselves from Wicked John
That horrid monster we know ourselves to be.
We overcome the desire to be rich
Or the desire to be a ruler.
We find ourselves the last Christians
In a world where we find none.
We fight that GrÆ
The personification of all our fears of failure.
We seek Elora, our wreath, our wifeflesh.
We peer into the subconscious realm
And draw out Fairy Lords,
Only to be surprised at what they really are.
For, I say this to you: there are not Thirteen Kings
There are no fairies or Giant Spirits.
This is this land of make believe.
Yet, Brittos fights them,
The powers too strong for me to overcome.
I personify them as kings and queens
Yet they are all of life’s struggles.
That is the power of literature;
Consider how great it is to consider MedÆ
That false god all are worshiping
The cable news and internet
Who is trying to foment a World War Three.
Or, consider the Valkyries and Elves
Two kingdoms ready for war, and the inevitable
Progression of men into beautiful husks
With wicked beings beneath.
To understand my poem need not
Much but an imagination.
It is fantasy, aesthetics,
A foray into the world of the bizarre.
None of this is real;
I keep telling you this
So you know it is for your healing.
“My healing!” do you say?
Yes, for when you look at my words
And I know this to be the case
You feel happy, and good;
When writing them I’m sad and miserable,
But out comes those inner struggles.
A heart’s turmoil is in this page
And I personify myself in both villains
And heroes, Brittos and the GrÆ
For they come from me.
We are the hero of our life story.
Fight every day like these things were out there
Because they are.
The psyche is rife with little creatures
That we need to take responsibility for.
I believe it was one of my teachers
Jordan Peterson
Who first made the metaphor;
Let me make it famous.
For our lives are much like Brittos
Struggling against all odds to obtain his beloved Elora.
Life’s not a game, but we know much about ourselves
When we gird ourselves for the war before us
And traipse through the Fairyland of our own subconscious.
This is why I want reading to be continued,
And hard literature to be enjoyed.
For, my friends, in order to know how to beat
The villains in real life
We must see how our heroes beat them
Here in Fairyland, where they help enrich our mind with new thoughts.
While writing, there is a sense to give up
As I’m touching my very shadow, my Young Shadow
In the form of various delusions.
Yet, I feel the weight of these delusions lifting
Because I have faced them in the purely fictional world I’ve created.
We are the hero of our own story;
And so many of us authors will write it down
And nobody listens? So, how can we rightly win our battle
If you don’t lend us your ear?
My shadow will only be beaten by your lent aid
For I long to be accepted by you
As first a man of God, and second as a classical author.
For if you don’t accept me, MedÆ has won.
And if MedÆ wins, we will never have another hero again.
XX. My Young Shadows
Childhood’s darkpangs sought
MedÆ’s comforts--- Stories
Became my soulwork.
Thæn Solomon’s love
Brought books’ freedom, wisdom
In an unwise time.
So, Brittos fights to
Win back wiseread from false gods---
MedÆ grew strong!
XXI. Omitted
Young Shadows
Published
B. K. Neifert 