i:
Upon a stretch of golden sand
That rose up from the sea –
As e’er divine and sun-blessed strand,
That dreamers dream to see,
Where the hollow shells of long-departed arthropods
Roll o’er amid the billion shimm’ring grains,
And echo as the water’s softly silken tongue
Lap the edges of the main –
A traveller writhed, and crawled, and gasped along,
An accursèd of some God.
ii:
With body black and blistered by the noonday sun,
And clothes no more than fraying strips
That flapped about his loins and hips,
From ship and company all lost he came; all lost, save one,
A nearly corpse that did fiercely strive
As the heaving, swirling, glugging ocean
Pumped gallons int’ his lungs: then somewhere
Spat his body out, with no motion
Or a twitch of limbs to solemnly declare,
That hammock’d twixt the wrecked ship’s sails, a soul had clung to life.
iii:
The traveller, so weary in the slipping sand,
At length looked up, and through his bleary, sun-bleached eyes,
Saw steepling cliffs that enclosed three sides,
And barred all ingress to this unsought land;
Imprisoned ‘tween the sea and rocks, it was thus as hope foretold;
The scrapings from that opened box were nothing else but mould.
Caged like a helpless, scabrous beast
Trawled out the deep blue sea,
The traveller then shut his eyes, at least
That when he woke again, he might have simply ceased to be.
iv:
It is a fancy lightly wished by some,
Plain wickedness to others,
Though many a man has prayed t’would come,
Quickly still to his dear brother.
But as days shall pass and nights fly by,
The mindless heart will pump its sap through veins –
The mechanics being not so freely stopped,
Despite the endless pain;
The laws that wind and wind the clock,
Control the right to life – but not of that to die.
v:
Oh happy hand that belayed the time,
And did not to the darkness bend!
Oh happy hand that stayed the crime,
So he did not to the woods descend!
The traveller woke – he lived and breathed
Again! For no eyes could ever disbelieve
That in a bed so soft, yet firm,
On pillows plump, ‘neath sheets of silk,
He lay contented like a burrowed worm –
Or some other creature of that earth-bound ilk.
vi:
The windows wide let in soothing drafts of fragrant air
That billowed the netted lace, like sails set winged and fair;
The room was grand and egg-shell white, and beside his poster’d bed a single chair
Was placed: A furnishing most opulent – though unquestionably spare.
Full many a night had he passed in some forsaken camp
A hundred miles from anywhere,
With the stench of damp pervading everything,
And fearsome men reduced to prayer;
Lone was the soldier left to sing,
Lone was the candle for a lamp.
vii:
In wars and revolutions had our traveller fought,
For Queens, a god, two countries and a people true –
The cry changed oft’, though that was given little thought;
He was one of many once, but then of few,
Who ‘midst the rubble, blood and lands despoilt,
Thrilled to unsheathe the sword, or blindly charge
Into a screaming hail of lead and canon fire:
No, not for men like him to stop and gauge
The length of life, or think of future sons to sire;
Not when the earth itself was stirred, and like a cauldron boiled.
viii:
The mind and body so oft’ at war,
Give no quarter when it comes to death;
But as one will thrust and then withdraw –
What some combatants crave most is more!
The other will not take a breath
Until their foe in two is cleft;
Some, of course, eschew the use of arms,
And believe it far more civilised to attack,
Attack, attack, and cause their harm
With an arsenal of words, with which they snidely hack.
ix:
And who could fault the efficacity
Of weapons which such a varied blow;
Truly wondrous is the potency
To say yesterday what one’ll never do tomorrow.
Some people desperate for election
Are forever changing coats;
Others begging for democracy
Ignore a losing vote;
It’s all a waking fantasy,
Just like an ‘nth injection.
x:
But now, or rather when
The few, once many, came to be but one,
He who had been of the best of men,
Discovered that there were none.
His battle scars and deeds of glory,
Which, all told, were but the honest proof
That any man could bravely fight for a belief,
Were now treated with disgust;
The savagery of fickle youth,
The people said, was like a fallen autumn leaf;
Rotten to the veins, they said, and no use for modern stories.
xi:
Thus did he voyage to the farthest docks,
And take a final breath before he stepped aboard
A ship; to sail he hoped – his faith
Being wagered on the price he paid – Hoped? Nay been assured
That the land he dreamt to come to safe
Would be reached beyond the rocks.
But the captain was a crafty fox,
Who’d been born upon the seas;
He’d spied the traveller’s money box
When he told him which was windward, which was lee.
xii:
So never roll the dice on waves,
Nor play at cards by night,
The underworld is full of shades,
Who’ve lost, and slipped from sight.
Lands of truth and liberty, moreo’er,
Are seldom charted on the map;
They float on currents with the shifting breeze,
To be discovered by mishap;
They are thick with snakes, gold and disease,
And decay is in their bower.
xiii:
And so wheresoe’er that he had landed,
And whatsoe’er had brought him there,
He had heard of poor men stranded,
And the isle was never fair.
Where slept Haidee, so did Lambro,
Where Miranda, Caliban;
As far back as the plume could reach
With tales cautionary to man,
What they’ve always tried their best to teach
Is that lovely beds are shared by foes.
xiv:
Just then the hence closed door swung wide,
And in upon a regal stride –
For be he a King or nay it could hardly be denied,
The power of the voice with which the entrant cried:
“My friend, welcome to Agathia!
Fortune has frowned – then smiled – on thee!
Now, if I might take the liberty,
I beseech you, please – Come walk among the cedars.”
Upon which he beckoned forth a gentle hand
So the traveller might rise, and there beside him stand.
xv:
In the glorious gardens of the citadel,
Beneath a sky of pure azure,
The scents of citrus, thyme and Mirabelle,
Revived the traveller’s weakened corps;
It was a remedy far swifter than any doctor’s ointment,
To say nothing of the wait for the appointment!
Physicians once, I’ve heard, had healing hands
With which they used to touch,
And diagnose, and check for swollen glands,
Before it all ‘came far far too much.
xvi:
For many an hour in deepest talk,
The two strolled round and round,
Though the words they shared were closely stalked
By the stone walls rising from the ground;
Well-built, well-manned, and fortified
Across unnumbered ages,
Their construction was a monstrous feat
Conceived for just as monstrous wages;
This latter fact alone had clearly made them great,
So no one cared a jot for what it looked like on the inside.
xvii:
The traveller’s voice stripped thin and rasping
From the salty draughts he’d drunk,
Told first – upon his host so keenly asking –
Of the ocean’s inhumanity, which had seen his sailing sunk:
To be tossed and hurled about the ship, he said,
As the storm thrashed all around,
Then be swallowed sober in the raging swirls
Where no man could make a sound,
Was the worst by far, he swore, in all the world,
Of the ways to leave you dead.
xviii:
He told his host, who listened close,
Of the life he’d lived before;
A life now lost – a floating ghost,
That he would touch and feel no more:
He recalled the many brave and cunning men he’d taught to cut and thrust
And run – though some, ‘twas true, ‘came too adept
At the bit which ended – Run!
There were wily old campaigners too who behind the walls had crept
Until the battle’s day was done:
“One only learnt in war”, he said, “who to and not to trust”.
xix:
“It is the greatest test humanity
Has ever yet devised,
To fight for this thing ‘liberty’ –
And to see a dead friend’s eyes;
It is then you know that loyalty,
Is the only worthwhile prize.
So I will not hang my head in shame
For any pleasure that I took;
Besides, I’ve learnt that in this game,
That’s the truth they purge from books”.
xx:
“After all, what does it matter that I did not mind
The blood spilt on the floor?
What does it matter that I did not grind
Through days, as if minutes were a chore?
What does it matter that I did not find
A love – and fight a different war?
Theirs is the ignorance to gaze in bliss
On cenotaphs, where proud the noble soldier stood,
And to think it not the least amiss
That for some, we could and would”.
xxi:
Suddenly, the traveller’s tiredness o’erpowered him:
His quiv’ring legs stopped dead.
With consternation at these frail thin limbs,
His host looked up – and called for bread,
And ham, and figs, and varied fruits,
And an array of sumptuous viands;
He led his guest through to a cool and shaded grove
Where, upon a curt and clicked command
That made the guards all swiftly move,
Two chairs were brought – with footstools too, to boot!
xxii:
At ease, and sheltered from the summer heat
By the trees’ broad-spanning leaves,
The host let slip a knowing smile,
And with a twinkle crossed his knees;
Drawing breath to speak, he paused awhile,
And rocked gently in his seat.
Glimpsed through the verdant canopy
Swooped a pair of swift-like birds;
It was a tranquil place to be
Secluded from the herds.
xxiii:
“What you have just recounted”,
The host, at length, replied,
“We on this isle learnt long ago,
This fact can never be denied;
For ours is a history full of woe
Which our present has surmounted:
On this island are ten citadels
Founded each as paradigms of true and perfect parity
Of resources, size and wealth; None, I say, could thus foretell
Their sad descent into barbarity”.
xxiv:
“Hundreds were the years which cruelly, blindly, passed
With our cities locked in conflict;
The river crossed, the die being cast,
Enmity alone became an edict;
The blood, once split, begat continual blood,
Which so soon became a flood:
This state of vicious rivalry,
‘Came thus the new normality,
Where every cry of chivalry
Preceded acts of deep depravity”.
xxv:
“At last a shaft of reason broke
Through the savage, bloody darkness;
The citizens as one awoke
From the slaughter of their madness.
Each city appointed delegates
To plead the many ‘plaints and grievances
That the sword and gun had failed to sate:
But the fest’ring old remonstrances
Piled high upon the tables,
Did manifestly demonstrate what beasts had built the stable”.
xxvi:
“But one, but one, had been the beast,
That had laid the founding stone!
But one, but one, had paid the feast,
Where fleshed was ripped from bone!
Seven are the deadly sins
That have cautioned man from hell;
It’s a number reducible to one – with a little competition –
For the ringing of the daily bell
That starts the race for acquisition,
Only ends when the trappers count their skins”.
xxvii:
“The delegates of our cities ten
Then began the long debate
To reach accord – some harmony!
Of relations, and our fate.
A decision came. A law was writ. The Company
Of six women and four men
Decreed the future policy
Which would govern all – ensure their safety!
And if there’d been a single doubt as to the ten’s unanimity,
‘Twas swept aside by the wisdom of the feminine majority”.
xxviii:
“On pain of death, the new law declared,
There’d be no travel anywhere
Between the tower’d city walls
By the cities’ common citizens –
Albeit there was a clause applied
For special cases and exceptions,
And some others with the wherewithal
To pay for legalised exemptions;
Some people railed, some others swore, but in the main they gently sighed –
The act was signed; the ink had dried: it was a mighty pen! ”
xxix:
“All communication between the masses thus ceased;
A restriction which at first led a few to regret
That the blessing of peace
Would end bloodthirsty tales of Montacutes and Capulets;
But to believe that an individual has a natural right
To vie, to boast, to envy, to kill –
All actions quite contrary to everything good –
Is to deify that most loathsome of all things: the will.
Great is the day our clever council saw sense and stood
Tall, leading us from the darkness back into the light”.
xxx:
“Here, my friend, you have the fullest explanation
Of the hist’ry of this isle,
Where its peoples live in isolation,
And spread no more their hate-filled bile;
Where all talk and thought of competition
Has by consensus been reviled.
What does it profit man, I long ago once read,
To buy and buy and buy and buy,
When he only ends up dead?
Oh why, oh why, oh why?”
xxxi:
“So fortune, as I said before,
Has smiled its kindly smile on you;
These walls you see, once besieged in war
Are now here to watch over all that we do.
Constructed in defence ‘gainst threats without,
It’s within – within! – so the poet wrote,
Where evil is so finely wrought;
It’s those who – here again I quote –
Show slight all outward signs of thought
For whom we keep a sharp lookout”.
xxxii:
“They’re men who act and say ‘I did!’
As the first response to a suggestion;
Though by this means they earn a million quid,
Never answering the question;
It’s these people who we fear the most,
They walk among us every day;
Our freedom thus comes at a cost,
But it’s a price we have to pay.”
Wherein the host concluded his long discourse –
A river flow’d must have its source.
xxxiii:
The traveller, his legs being propped,
Looked up – and then inspired;
For a breathless instant his heart seemed stopped
Until he forcibly expired.
His mind was like a carousel
Spinning round and round and round;
His heart was pounding with the fierce desire
To tear the city walls all down;
Indeed, his feet did feel the flaming fire
Of the very vision of his hell;
xxxiv:
All around, the sun which dazzled bright,
Instead grew grey and grim,
And the shadows that preceded night,
Fell like a spotlight down on him.
The host stood up, in darkness cloaked,
And with a louring voice he spoke:
“I know how tempting is the game to play:
I’ve heard the songs; I’ve heard the lays;
I even felt the urge myself one morn’
To resist – and suffer, as to man is said ‘tis born”.
xxxv:
“But you who would tear down these walls
And be rid of all these towers tall –
Our protection from both our friends and foes,
Which shift, you see – the winds doth blow!
A peril which you clearly know,
And which has brought you here –
These thoughts of yours, their pale cloud cast
Is to me just like a crystal, clear;
Needs must, forsooth, see you tied to the mast
While the sirens do sing: nowhere, in short, shall you go.
xxxvi:
With that the host took abruptly his leave
In silence, so that the traveller could scarcely believe
That the man who had been so friendly before
Had become in an instant a host no more.
Two barrack’d men who’d been the guard
Of welcome, and brought water,
Now helped him up and led him on a brisk promenade
Toward his newly prison’d quarters;
There the windows had all been firmly shut,
And the doors were shortly after locked.
Alone, the traveller looked for solace but
Saw nothing other than the vast and steepling rocks;
At length he spied a patch of shining sand
Far distant from his jail,
But without a ship – some means to sail!
Escape was thwarted from the godless land.
Ne’er’less, he dauntless gathered up some silken sheets
And with them formed a makeshift rope;
After which, he heaved a heavy sigh – not of defeat!
And loudly cried: “I don’t believe: I hope!”
Simon Marshall 