February 28, 2005
-
Apathy ‘board Gunnlod’s Mead
A once proud Norse ship,
The Gunnlod’s Mead,
Now sailed in disrepair.
Her damaged masts and tattered sails
Dejected in the gloomy breeze,
The rotting hull and shattered keel
Bashed too many times
Against the irony,
The reef offshore
That Hope’s Last Wellspring
Had in store.
A cruel misnomer
That cried, “Try, try again”,
“Just keep the faith”,
Providing no prize
For the attempt
But punishment
For the crime.
The albatross that led the way
Abandoned this ship long ago.
The gulls remain and wait
To pick at the inevitable,
The meal served up
By its demise
Upon fate’s dinner plate.
The mermaids and the succubus
No longer need their lure,
Nor call out seductively;
Lounging patiently
On relentless waves.
They are confident
They’ll get their prey
Later in the day.
The lost crew,
Marionettes with cut strings
Heaped on the parquet.
A dance with the listless
Swaying to the rhythm of the sea;
The maligned, discordant
Symphony of Failure
Creaking eerily
From taught, distorted rigging.
All vitality long sloughed away,
Like Kvasir’s blood
By the always advancing,
Always encroaching tide
Of frustration
And fate.
Thus the will is crushed.
The struggle grows weaker;
Attempts to overcome
Fewer and further apart.
Desire, trust and faith
Are dashed upon the rocks
And life becomes
A long, drawn-out
Savage shipwreck.
The once fierce hearts
Drift to and fro
In the sea’s foamy surf
Eroding with indifference,
Degrading into entropy,
At last arriving,
Sinking effortlessly
Into the
Alongside their picked-clean bones
And ruined ship.
Their lives and dreams
Condemned to the deep
By eternal hope.
Editorial Note: In case you are interested, Gunnlod and Kvasir are figures from Norse Mythology. Their short story may be of interest to the poets around here. By the way, the ship crew’s parrot flies away with the albatross and both live happily ever after together although their interspecies union is never recognized by either the Bush Administration or the Catholic Church nor is it ever legitimized by the Supreme Court.
Comments (14)
LOL…have you been smoking some of what Coleridge indulged in perhaps?…good piece and twist…
Dear Andreas,
I very much like this poem, which hails from another more poetic age, in subject matter and form. And I see someone already mentioned S.T. Coleridge. I was going to meniton that you had featured Coleridge poems here on your Xanga before, and of course he features and albatross in his most famous poem, “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner”.
Red sky at morning, etc.
Michael F. Nyiri, poet, philsosopher, fool
I admire your work! I’ve always thought that hope is a luxury that’s impossible or a delusion. Never thought hope as condemning…hmm…
Your comments to me, the ramblings you call them, are my favorite! You say so much, so intelligently. Your words make me smile.
~lisa
You are a hell of a bard. The imagery here is quite haunting. The words seem to drift, crash, ebb much like the movement of the sea. I also agree with the Coleridge comparison, but believe you might be trying to achieve a Skaldr-ean atmosphere. Am I right?
Andreasy,
I adored this…I studied bits of the Ragnorok in a mythology class, I’d like to indulge in more Norse myths.
Take care,
Stacey
Yes, you have spoken!
I suppose that is what makes men and women so attracted to one another, their differences. The separate way they look at love. Women see love as “happiness for no reason” and men see it as “happiness because”
I don’t know. I’m being arrogant in pretending to know.
Your comments as always are the best in the lot. I look forward to reading them.
~lisa
ah! this one flows so nice, and i love the whole image you give. quite cool.
yes yes, midterms are damn near done. i’ll update about them eventually… they were all very interesting… hehe
hope all’s well down south!
Thanks for your kind words.
You’re right. I suppose I get so caught up just reading your comments to me that when I come here I am busy answering rather than reading. I did read your Norse poem and your work is dark, but, darkness sometimes just forces the reader to discover light.
Your prosody reminds me of Hermann Hesse’s writing. His characters are always dark and brooding. Not that I find YOU dark and brooding, just the style of your work.
There are some fantastic, descriptive words in your piece. My favorites are comparing the crew to marionettes with cut strings. And how desire, trust and faith are dashed upon the rocks.
~lisa
just peeking in.. thats some poem
wow..
Whoa. Have to come back to this later, since I’m off to teach. I’m glad you stopped by and commented. I’m subbing.
I love your work mof late…you seem to be somewhere quite different…and I like that…
I truly missed reading u…and thanks for the history lesson as well…
dorothea