The Beast – Part 2

Part 1

 

With pointed snout and matted fur,
Imposing frame that barely stirs,
 
It stands, so proud,
And eyes the outcast’s tattered rags.
And then out loud
With smooth and cultured voice it brags,
 
“Are you surprised to hear me speak?
I am no simple rabid brute.
I have no need to skulk or sneak
Among the poor and destitute.
 
“I was once a man like you,
Despised for what I could not be;
Yet through that fiery avenue
I walked until my soul was free.
 
“Then fate avenged my sorrows all
And granted me this noble gift,
To ensure the mighty fall
And embody justice swift.”
 
“Justice? You?
Who murders fathers as they slept?
All those you slew
Left daughters, sons and wives who wept.”
 
“You do not know how blind you are;
I laid no hand upon those men,
Merely watching from afar
As they met their well-earned end.
 
“I gave each one great tooth and claw
Then showed him his own heart;
When all the evil there he saw
Each tore himself apart.
 
“And now in turn your soul I bless,
Feel your surging righteous might!
Do not give vile foulness rest,
Dig it out and end your blight!”
 
Holy rage consumes his mind
At filth that must now be removed;
To all else he is almost blind
His razor claws the perfect tool.
 
He somehow holds himself at bay
And stumbles down the tortured mound,
‘Til finally at break of day
He wakes upon quite foreign ground.

The Beast, Part 1

As promised, I will be posting this poem ten verses at a time every few days as part of the build-up to the release of my second poetry collection, Selected Verse: Heroes and Wonders. Enjoy:

The Beast

It lives, it breathes,
It’s senses prowl the land for prey.
It lurks, deceives;
It’s fiendish plan is underway.

Stifled screams across the town
As men of great and high renown
Are found dismembered, savaged, mauled;
All witnesses aghast, appalled

At what now stalks their every night
And makes them huddle round the light,
Hoping it will shield their souls
From the creature’s awful goals.

A shabby man of ill repute,
Who’s seen this bloody scene repeat,
Stands brandishing a weapon crude
Affirming a now ancient creed

To protect the weak and frail,
And set off on the monster’s trail.
Since here no pawprints can be found,
He’ll search for them on softer ground.

Rumours whisper of a hill
Where blood runs cold before it’s spilled;
Where hope is lost and brave men scream,
Haunted by a savage dream.

“That must be where it lays its head,
I’ll ensure it wakes up dead.”
He gathers victuals and supplies
And heads to where the danger lies.

He struggles up a lonely trail,
Determined not to fall or fail.
Thorns tear his furs, cold penetrates
Strength gradually deteriorates.

He sleeps inside a hollow tree,
A dwindling fire dulls misery
Until the morning’s ashes speak
Of the looming struggle bleak.

Hacking through the undergrowth,
He spots a clearing in the east:
Amidst the scattered human bones
He locks eyes with the beast.

 

Part 2

Sneak Peek at Selected Verse: Heroes and Wonders Cover Art

My second poetry collection, entitled Selected Verse: Heroes and Wonders, is scheduled for release in the next few weeks, and here is a first glimpse at the cover artwork.

Selected Verse: Heroes and Wonders Cover Art concept

Selected Verse: Heroes and Wonders Cover Art concept

It will be composed of forty poems already posted here at this blog dealing with heroes and wonders of the grand type we see depicted in our favourite epics as well as inspiring everyday examples that only a few ever notice, plus a group on wisdom and folly. There is one further long poem to be included that is currently unfinished, I will post it in parts every few days as the publication date approaches. There will also be a kindle countdown deal on all three of my published books at once starting at the end of this week, I will announce when that goes live.

The First Shipment of Beyond the Mist Paperbacks Has Arrived

BtM_paperbackpromo

This will mostly be of interest to readers in the Czech Republic, but my first shipment of author copies of Beyond the Mist arrived yesterday, so those who wish to save on postage (or request a signed copy) can now order direct from the author for 200 Czech Crowns (plus postage of 56 CZK for cash on delivery within the Czech Republic, 183 CZK for Europe and 225 CZK for outside Europe). I also have a limited stock of paperbacks of Selected Verse: Faith and Family and Nobility Among Us, but bear in mind that Nobility Among Us is considerably heavier than the other two books, so will involve higher postage costs. Please use the contact form below to arrange this.

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Thank you for your response. ✨

Reason for Contact

Wise Men

Declared by wonders in the sky,
Wise men saw a king was nigh.
Trusting in their ancient art,
They got ready to depart
Across the vast and burning sand
To a distant promised land.

A mighty convoy was prepared
To ensure they made it there,
With treasures, mounts, supplies and troops
To fend off nomad raiding groups.
Tents to shield from brutal heat
And nightly chills that oft repeat.

After months through harsh terrain,
Despite discomfort, cold and pain,
At last they reached the royal court
To see the newborn king they sought.
The old king flatters them a while,
With subtle knives behind his smile.

“Of course we’ll worship this new king
As soon as you’ve confirmed this thing.
In Bethlehem was prophesied
The birth of our great nation’s guide.
Pay your respects, then bring back news
That we can share with all the Jews.”

With joy refreshed and strength renewed,
And packs refilled with royal food,
They journeyed on to that small town
(Soon to be of great renown),
Above them that celestial sign
Guides them in one final time.

With reverence they find their goal
Beside the slumbering lamb and foal.
Despite the stench, the holy sight
Fills their souls with peace and light.
Their treasured offerings now seem
Paltry in that glorious gleam.

They stay a while, discuss the worth,
The meaning of this wondrous birth,
All that’s heralded this thing,
A pauper’s home for this great king?
What will he be and do for all,
That has the heavens so enthralled?

Their spirits countlessly enriched,
Return to where their tents are pitched,
And as they rest, a herald warns
Of plots against this pure newborn.
To thwart this foul insidious wrath,
They packed and took a stealthy path.

“This all our fathers saw and knew,
Most honoured gospel scribe Matthew.
We know their tale is one small part
Of a greater work of art.
Now we have helped you as we ought,
Please tell us all He did and taught?”

I have a poem featured at the Society of Classical Poets

A little while ago, I submitted a few poems for the society of Classical Poets 2015 contest, all of which have been already posted on this blog in the past, and one of them is now featured on the society’s website:

http://classicalpoets.org/seasons-by-ben-zwycky/

I’d like to take this opportunity to welcome any new readers coming over here from there, and hope you find more writing to your liking.

I’m currently slightly overloaded with work, together with preparations for the launch of Beyond the Mist and normal pre-Christmas stuff (plus my daughter’s birthday), so my next poem might be a bit delayed. I will also be going to the new Star Wars film with my three eldest boys on Saturday, so it’ll be a happily busy time all round 🙂

 

 

Christmas ordering deadline for Nobility Among Us paperbacks

The reduced price window for Nobility Among Us ebooks has now expired, the window for Selected Verse – Faith and Family has one and a half days day left. Those of you who have taken advantage of the offer (or have read and enjoyed these works before), I would encourage you to write a review on Amazon to let others know whether these works are something they would enjoy.

 

In other news, I have recently been informed by the publisher handling the paperbacks for Nobility Among Us that for customers in the UK, US, Europe and Australia, they can only guarantee delivery before Christmas for orders placed on or before Tuesday the 8th of December. For customers in other locations, orders will need to be placed even earlier.

One Child

“One child is enough for you, the rest you will discard.
It’s in our nation’s interest; this choice is not so hard.”
A parent’s pure delight is turned into a source of woe,
As they decide which child to keep and which they should let go.

Millions are torn to pieces while still in the womb,
Their tiny bodies adding to another smoky plume.
Many more are left to freeze upon a winter’s day,
Abandoned in the street as if they all can make their way.

Shafts of light come filtered through the roadside’s fragrant trees,
The smells of woks and pans at work, all carried by the breeze,
Piano music interrupted by a teacher’s scold,
None of this brings comfort to a little girl that’s cold.

She’d love someone to scold her for an errant finger placed,
Since then they’d think their time’s investment in her not a waste.
She pines for Grandma’s village hut, with its floor of earth,
Nought but worms to play with, but folk grateful for her birth.

She makes it all the way back ‘home’, but then is left once more,
Each time the police bring her back to that unloving door.
Until at last that father is imprisoned for his crimes,
The girl sent to an orphanage to see more pleasant times.

Those places, though, are more like prisons; she soon runs away,
But there is no long-term escape, the world is bleak and grey.
All these troubles teach her that all parents are a fraud,
That Mother State and Party are her only loving lord.

The chairman of a boarding school then contradicts this thought,
He takes her and her cellmates in and treats them as he ought,
As children, pupils, precious lives of worth and purity;
He sacrifices plenty to restore their dignity.

(For this and other kindnesses, he’s later thrown in jail,
Performing better than the state, that’s far beyond the pale!)
The school’s house mother lavishes her love on all of them,
Soothing all the fears and pain from which her anger stemmed.

As years go by, a loving family seems a distant dream,
No-one will adopt a girl who’s now into her teens;
She must now start to think of when she’ll be a full adult,
On her own, responsible for each choice and result;

Then comes the news of a kind couple from a distant land,
Who long to take her in and hold her with their loving hands.
They’ve sons and want a daughter; they’ve come thousands of miles
To love someone this state discards, to treasure her sweet smile.

Inside her, softly, safe despair gives way to deadly hope
That tempts her from her lonely ledge to grasp this rescue rope.
Her broken self will have to die to birth a new creation,
As she is flown to her new life in that wild, distant nation.

In that odd land, one child is precious—missed when they are gone;
For those strange folk, one child is valued—each and every one.

Knights in Coloured Overalls

Knights in coloured overalls
Wave to their great devotees—
Two boys by a garden gate,
Who watch them ride their metal beast.

Dismounting, each with practiced grace,
They wheel great black sarcophagi
To their awesome monster’s maw;
It lifts, empties, then slowly bites.

Youth in wide-eyed wonder gasps
As evil pestilence is crushed,
Sequestered from the world most fair,
And banished to the realm of dust.

Their mission well met one more time,
They mount their fearsome steed and glide
To next-door’s vault of heinous waste
With puffed-out chests so full of pride.

The Razor Blade of Approval

“Too fat! Too thin! Too glad! Too grim!
Too black! Too white! Too dark! Too light!
Too rich! Too poor! Too smart! Too sure!
How do you ever hope to gain a compliment from us?

“You mention our great enemy, yet not in pure disgust?
Here’s a list of things for you to do that might win back our trust.
Supporting last week’s noble cause? Have you no sense of shame?
This week’s outrage is what matters, this is not a game!

“Abase yourself for all the crimes your ancestors ignored!
(At least, according to the meagre records we’ve restored.)
Your shouts are far from shrill enough, denounce, denounce, denounce!
Or else it seems to us you’re one of them, by all accounts.”

I stumble from the pedestal no broader than a hair,
I’m trampled on by hundreds scrambling to climb up on there.
I stand and walk away from the shining razor blade
of their presumed approval, and as their voices fade,

I find, to my surprise, that the world doesn’t end.

 

This and other poems on the subject of wisdom, folly, everday and epic heroism and beauty can be found in Selected Verse – Heroes and Wonders