Tuesday, April 10, 2012

A Fairy Tale Rightfully Unpronounced

Head on over to D'Verse where the doors are open for Open Link Night. Check out some amazing poets and their poetry and while you're there, link up one of your own.

There are some fairy tales purposely forgotten

Masked scabbard of the Interferon
Embark me now! Harken deep!

Pincers, heather-gray
residing, in the chaos
of the fay

The scope, the breadth—
freshest are the forceps of
wealth, so forcibly inhaled

Squeeze play…last to first

Rein in the misgiven logic
harness the bit displayed
bridle order, offer reprieve
To a day, unbeknownst, but veritably
In a somatic state of disarray—
Covet the uniform less distinguished
than the dignity displayed so prominently upon the crest

One must love
before they hate
         One must hate
         before they can love
flawed and frayed—
destitute and drowning-in
a parabola of valor
         affixed and spent
         dignified only
by the wash and wring

refined in the rough edges met/completely
blent/a merger into one—mixing free—to
a place once lost by me

Music is built upon the foundation of every emotion we possess.  We should carefully consider what melodies possess us full.

No longer have we become isolated
no longer has the interlocutor lost his tongue
proscription, no longer in mask or shaded by

the fear of what is laced within belief—
The opposition grows unbearable
we, haunt the fragments that cluster
in despair—in perilous decree—
then, will understand, will see….
all that is alive in the make-belief
world of inspiration found in song

There are some things we should never wish for or openly accept without dutiful consideration.

Go back forward
thirsting greater
whet for the knowledge never meant to sate—
hidden amidst the decorations are the words
and agility— of thousand-year-old invisible men

Where ginger henpecks snarl forth
and exaggerated bindings scoff retorts

Where scarlet footfalls shed flaked skin
to dais—ever raising until
gone by
to the sounds
of sepulchral tones
fading still…until
awake you grow
from your bed—
 of pebbles, topping boulders of stone

The bronzed veil of the squandered dove
attracts our prey and walls the dam
from cracks that call…

Erosion marks,
plated tint
fireflies….alive in glint
yet such a flash, bears the seeds—

That correlate the actions of fessing men—
directing us to the locations where
Attributions are all but lost—
where even the squalors flee
this pathetic excuse for symphony

Enter the hyperstatic repository
built upon the domino’s gradated sweetener
and force-fed mortar—by the shaking hands of tankards
alive, if only to cozen the salivation out from within…

pip to pip it effectively simulates a contagion effect

Burbling are the salivary dreams—
Of cuticles brittle, where bristling trumpets signify
the aloof designs for higher power

Impossibly vacant, yet acting out…
solely to manufacture a reason for

A sacrificial toolkit, intent on discovering
the phantasms hovering, closely, near

Where candor has played second fiddle to cowardice…
Now. Vis-à-vis, brazen impudence stutters naught—
boldly affronting the dignity dishonored by such weakening

If vision is the object of your desire, then sight
shall presently appear…
But be forewarned
you may not won’t like
the images you are now to see!

The reavers are coming—
reapers and raiders, cannibalistic kin—
rising, continuously, from infernal abeyancy

The reavers are coming! The reavers are coming!
to purge both blessed and cursed,
to remind all and every
their scourge and bane

Ensconced abrasions quickly form,
from sentient pockmarks to boils forged

The reavers are here
to burn the bridges built up high

The reavers are coming  
Please pray and hide

Until the strong and proud live freely unafraid,
The results you see will remain the same

Until the worst in man can come out,
To produce the true fear buried deeply south
The reavers will come and seek man out

The ferel beasts will not relent
They’ll destroy without regret,
producing widows and widowers
along their seditious course

The youth are spared,
yet only so the scars can breathe
the foul memory
of their death to come

The reavers have never been defeated
never a casualty to claim
they come and crush
and rattle calm
they brutalize the damned
but bow naught their heads
for the countless innocent’s
they’ve also slain

The Final Act is always the most disappointing

Eradication begins….
         when we wedlock our sins

Masked scabbard of the interferon
save me now…
         for I’ve lived a thousand years
                  and, as one might surmise,
                           the years have not been kind.

         I’ve never had to beg
                  so please do not make me now

Bear me my golden veil
         for without,
I fear
this reign
will be short-lived


  1. wow fred - its an easter epic! - the gift that keeps on giving... the section breakdown is always a good idea for a project of this length and depth...

    some great standout lines keep the flow ebbing...and the line layout is perfectly in tune with the scale and scope...

    sonically sweet with some V.cool alliteration -
    Po Mo Po -

    nice one Fred :)

  2. holy cow this is epic man...great titles to each section...the second one i def jive with and so true...and nice closure int eh last one as well...well done...

  3. Wow, when you flow, you let it go and you let it go so well. :)Love

  4. Poetical Fred. TG I wear my anti-reaver vest 24 / 7.

    Thousand year old men, I like that, and feel like one on days when I'm tired.

    Hope all's well.

  5. There is so very much in this one, Fred, it's hard to home in on one thing...but, I will. I really liked how you numbered the verses and led in with bold font. Very effective. And there are some marvelous images, not to mention a few words I need to look up! Near-epic write.

  6. Fred, this is a large work, but each of these could stand equally on its own. I love how the piece comes full circle in the last set of verse. Really well done!

  7. This was fun,Fred, in terms of feeling inspired by music, but also, extremely sweeping and detailed, with a lot of lines that give you a dig as you pass by--I esp liked some of the more surreal descriptive notes, like "Where ginger henpecks snarl forth/and exaggerated bindings scoff retorts/Where scarlet footfalls shed flaked skin.." and "Erosion marks,/plated tint
    fireflies…alive in glint.." The reavers and the thousand year old men gave it an underlying plot, as well...nice tie off at the end. Epic is the only word I can come up with to sum it up.

  8. You sure spun quite the tale, some lines truly stuck as I went through and I could picture some fairy tale esque and others kind of reverse. Also reavers got stuck in my head and I couldn't place where I heard it, finally remembered it was Gears of War, those ones were defeated thankfully though.

  9. This is an epic, as I've said before you get into these pieces with Shakespearean gravitas. I had to hold on as you went from interferons (though maybe I got the reference wrong now that I look again and see it is capitalized) to reavers (Firefly? and reapers are hardwired to Mass Effect in my mind). However, with somatic I thought I was on the right track through a disease (though metaphoric) of faith. The part about melodies struck me deeply as a composer. The sense of 'knowledge never meant to sate' and a 'sacrificial toolkit, intent on discovering the phantasms hovering' permeated the piece for me. A haunting write (especially the youth spared) with immense scope, crafted diction, and an intriguing narrator.

  10. Ah! what a journey through culture changes as well as fantastic structure and flow whilst keeping the reader thirsting ahead. I particularly love "Rein in the misgiven logic
    harness the bit displayed
    bridle order, offer reprieve
    To a day, unbeknownst, but veritably
    In a somatic state of disarray—" Such a tone is set here to preceed perfectly the next refrain. I really like your art of transferring one refrain to the next...pleasure to read. Pam

  11. This just rolled effortlessley- and what a poem- where did this come from? Reminded me of a blend of the traditional like Milton but with a disctinctive modern voice. very well composed and creative, intersting form

  12. What a poetic journey...I specially like section 4 and that section 6 was too chilling for me.

    Thanks for all your kind words in my blog Fred. I appreciate your support and encouragement ~

  13. What a powerful journey thru so much verbal territory. I felt like an archeologist unearthing so many layers of subjective history, moving on thru a surreal history of creation and destruction, promise and damnation. This has words that call up half-images, whose half-lives continue to radiate packets of meaning after the journey to one more illumination of internal space/time. It's an odd feeling that occurs when words open up possibilities of meaning that attach themselves to life but also stand off and remain distant, somehow stretching out always into the potential for self-awareness. Excellent poem.

  14. heck fred...what a journey you took us on...love how you develop this step by step...epic indeed...lots of things to like...think the music part struck me most..awesome

  15. I love your form here, with the numbered parts. I would like to experiment more with serial poetry. Love the line "In a somatic state of disarray" and "The Final Act is always the most disappointing".

  16. wow this is epic..nicely done!

  17. What an immense piece. I'm not sure what to say except - thoroughly original and darn amazing. Hats off to you, buddy

  18. I'm late to post. I have to read this some more to make a more cogent comment. On first read I can only say I'm impressed by the depth and weight of it. Thanks!

  19. Each one seems to be a tale in itself. I like the section titles. 2nd one seems to talk about how being whole and together is how the rough edges seem to disappear because one compensates and patches the other. I like III -- I often listen to music to boost a mood. Metaphorically, the tune could become one, as habits and constant exposure to certain things does. IV -- I really like the section for the strange visions in it, it feels a chamber full of voices where at the end the sleeper awakes feeling bruised somewhat -- pebbles and boulders. Hammered.

    Reavers stanza is straightforward violence, destroying every If anything it seems that disaster that rocks us to the core is inevitable. The worst in man coming out scares me the most. The last section does sound like some kind of pleading despite the narrator not wanting to beg.

    This epic piece on the whole is quite a symphony of words.

  20. Wow, I am impressed with the depth and intensity of this write!

  21. Exquisite lines! Love the titles for each section. The way you broke it up helps the epic flow.