These are two newly unearthed* working drafts of a poem from January 1991 - time of the Gulf War I think!
*(thanks to the archaeological endeavours of my friend Graham)
THE CANDLE (Version II)
A patterned globe
of wax emits
a subtle fragrance.
The flames shaft
laps the glowing air
waiting to break
this happy equilibrium.
Is this the flame
that purifies, whilst commentators whine
of surgical strikes.
Open the door, create
a minor turbulence -
the flame now licks
the candles side -
the meltdown of the globe
began precisely
with the strike
of that first match.
Today the bombs
rain down; a patterned globe
emits the stench
of burning flesh.
******** Malcolm Evison
THE CANDLE (VERSION I)
Waiting to break
this happy equilibrium
the flames shaft
laps the glowing air.
Today the bombs
fall on Baghdad –
I watch the candle burn.
A patterned globe
of wax emits
a subtle fragrance –
no flesh is burning
here in my room.
Is this the flame
that purifies –
surgically pure?
An opening of the door –
a minor turbulence,
the flame now licks
the candles side.
The meltdown of the globe
begins so casually.
************ Malcolm Evison
A companion to THE WORD OF SINNA LUVVA blog. An Outlet for new poems, drafts of poems and even rediscovered or reworked ones! For more poetry by Malcolm Evison see the Related Sites listing.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Sunday, November 06, 2005
MISSION BETRAYED
MISSION BETRAYED
[Redemore 22 August 1485]
Misjudged by many of my peers,
betrayed by those in whom
I placed my trust. Today
I sift through memory,
acknowledge scheming in my blood -
the unquenched thirst
of generations. Betrayal
led me to accept defeat
out of the very jaws
of victory. I clung
to pride.
***************
A Judas multiplied
was on my side,
in faith, I thought them
little Christs. Their company
made for me
a lonely ride.
*******************
The wetlands bogged me down,
Canuted by the rapid-turning tide.
Today I made myself
a pawn
for Tudors grasping hand -
Today I died a King,
upheld the remnants
of my dignity.
*********************
My crown was no more theft
than fate contrives
to thrust on monarchy itself -
Today I have my pride.
Malcolm Evison
[Redemore 22 August 1485]
Misjudged by many of my peers,
betrayed by those in whom
I placed my trust. Today
I sift through memory,
acknowledge scheming in my blood -
the unquenched thirst
of generations. Betrayal
led me to accept defeat
out of the very jaws
of victory. I clung
to pride.
***************
A Judas multiplied
was on my side,
in faith, I thought them
little Christs. Their company
made for me
a lonely ride.
*******************
The wetlands bogged me down,
Canuted by the rapid-turning tide.
Today I made myself
a pawn
for Tudors grasping hand -
Today I died a King,
upheld the remnants
of my dignity.
*********************
My crown was no more theft
than fate contrives
to thrust on monarchy itself -
Today I have my pride.
Malcolm Evison
A friend who took over my flat, in 2000AD, has recently moved out and discovered some old working drafts of mine. This is one of them - slightly re-worked. The Subject is Richard III.
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