May, 2015

(archives)

SONG OF THE SEAFARERS

– spferdberg

Lightning bolt and thunderclap
Rage across the sky. (Hey!)
Safe and sound we ride the waves,
Over the sea we fly. (Hey!)

The Eastern Sea, the Western Sea
And everywhere in between. (Hey!)
We belong under open skies,
So that’s where we’ll be seen. (Hey!)

We pity the adventurer,
Who left his brews at home. (Hey!)
Let’s all take a breath and dive
To the mystic dome. (Hey!)

Evil fish and guardians,
Hear them all complain. (Hey!)
We are here to fight and steal
Precious porcelain. (Hey!)

Round the Cape Croissant we go,
Wienerfell is near. (Hey!)
Clouds are looming o’er our heads, but
Soon the skies will clear. (Hey!)

Summon a drink and gather round,
The shore is nigh in sight. (Hey!)
Sail we will, through days of lore
And through darkest night. (Hey!)

Lightning Bolt and Thunderclap
Rage across the sky. (Hey!)
Safe and sound we ride the waves,
Over the sea we fly. (Hey!)

THE TREE GARDEN

– spferdberg

If you look at them from far away,
A peaceful dance of shadows,
A seascape with a hundred sails,
All scattered on the meadows.

But when you go, as night falls down,
Prepare your evening pillows,
Hush! And you will notice that
There’s whisper in the willows.

In gallant robes of green they move
And gather by a campsite.
A new bloom has grown on their land,
Competing for the sunlight.

The dark oak lifts his head up high
And has his crown adjusted.
With solemn voice he boldly speaks:
“They are not to be trusted.”

He recalls recent massacres,
Remembers friends combusted,
Whole family lines were hacked to shreds,
Some spruces look disgusted.

Who is this unseen enemy?
What drives it to such cruelty?
To stand and fight back this new threat
All take an oath of fealty.

The duke of spruces rises up
And takes the floor, all gallant.
To summon words of bravery
He had a special talent.

“They’ve made a weapon we can’t fight,
That’s custom-made to kill us:
A shiny blade with evil grin,
A brachial bacillus.”

“My fellow trees, they swiftly rush
Through our midst and slay us,
We have to make a move on them,
Or else they will betray us.”

“The corpses of our friends and foes,
Stacked up in grotesque manner.
All different tribes of trees must now
Unite under one banner!”

Their manes sway softly in the wind,
All nod in quiet approval.
Trees serious and dignified,
Awaiting their removal.

The birch, all bashful, lifts her head
And makes a shy confession:
“The two-legged folks, with all their faults,
They’re masters of progression.”

An uproar shakes the canopy,
Outragéd angry rustle.
“Explain yourself, young birchen friend,
Or feel my wooden muscle!”

The birch, all pensive for a while,
Considers how to highlight
There is some good in humankind,
Albeit sometimes in twilight.

“They plant young saplings, water them,
Make sure they are promoted.
Without them, would we be here now,
On soil that lay eroded?”

A few trees nod, most shake their heads,
There’s murmur, fissling, splutter.
The birch, she stands alone with few,
Most trees still vote for slaughter.

“An era where we face our end
Is not the time for truces.
We have to fight and not look back.”
So speaks the duke of spruces.

The night becomes decidual
And ends in wild confusion.
As sunlight peeks around the hill,
There is no clear conclusion.

The human kind, a mystery
To beings of wood and leaves.
What creature would both plant the seed,
Then kill what it recieves?

Our spirit and our gentleness,
It is from them not hidden.
Our briefness and barbarity,
They’ve seen the horse it’s ridden.

They look like they’re not moving much,
You think they can’t be thinking.
While we haste after daily dues,
The hearts of trees are sinking.

They wonder who on Earth we are,
And what’s our common praxis?
What will we bring when we return,
Our bonemeal or our axes?

TO GOLD

– spferdberg

O gold!

What lovely serendipity
That puts me in thy presence!
Thy shine it is that separates
Us noblemen from peasants.

The weaponsmith is not impressed,
And neither are the hecklers.
I will not take their words to heart,
I’ll wear thee as a necklace.

THE TOWN AND THE SPIDER

– spferdberg

Long ago, a spider came
Across a swampy valley.
Found a town that was just three
Houses and an alley.

Tasty humans crawled around,
Panicking and shrieking,
Hungry spider was confused:
Food buffets are freaking?

Hastily it went away,
To a nearby mountain,
Had to find another meal,
Tourists aren’t counting.

Chanced upon a spider girl,
Witty and attractive.
Eight-legged civilization things
Came into perspective.

Mineshaft full of working folk,
Busy and distracted,
Spider laughed and ate them all,
Soldiers were contracted.

Suddenly a hero stood
Grinning on the bedrock,
Wielding shiny diamond arms,
Offspring of the townsfolk.

Hungry spider, angry man
And a score to settle.
Maybe you can guess who won
This historic battle.

Dagger ‘tween the eyeballs and
Claws on human faces,
Things got out of hand quite fast,
Caves are violent spaces.

Duel in the dark, the odds
Even and in balance.
Hero waved about his sword
‘Tween two fearful seconds.

Wounded beast collapsed and slid
From a small protrusion,
As this hungry spider’s tale
Comes to its conclusion.

Glorious day of victory,
Massive celebration,
Carcass in the central square,
Death of spider nation.

Laughing people posing with
Boots on dead beast’s forehead.
How could God create a wild
Animal so horrid?

Cornucopia’s oldest town,
Honest and medieval,
Once infested, now reclaimed,
Free from beasts primeval.

ODE TO THE BERMUDAS

– spferdberg

Where once stood a temple,
You stand above clouds.
Beneath dwell the divers,
Surround the lighthouse.

Refreshened by potions
A smiling man brewed,
Forget introductions,
You’re now known as “dude”.

Sad spikefish is screeching,
You just hold the wire,
As soon it will enter
The chamber of fire.

The soft sandy beaches,
A vast fruit buffet,
Cows greet from the boat bridge,
Then swim round the bay.

Occasional rainfall
Can’t spoil the great vibe.
Welcome to the island!
Welcome to the tribe!

TO IRON

– spferdberg

O iron!

Thy auspicious silver gleaming,
Thy sweet old familiar face.
For thee in my dusty pockets
I will always find a space.

Hidden under stone for ages,
Sunlight now caresses thee.
Prisoned in these walls forever,
I will help thee to break free.

Now thy glistering visage
Changes, thrust into the flames.
Molten into swords and axes,
Gaia gives what man reclaims.

Thou empowerest us to fight our
Enemies and overlords,
With thee by our side, we fear not
Ghastly ghouls nor savage hordes.

Settlers praise thee,
Travellers need thee,
Thou art tough and rare to splice.
And upon thy trusted nature
Our very fortúne relies.