E L E V E N

There bled a place
In open space
Poured into by old titans,

With bluish days
And night displays
Of stars enlarged and brightened.

Where unrest flowed
From all alcoves
Into the planes beyond,

And colours dueled
To own the fuel
That sprinkled from the sun.

For this was where
The senses shared
Their primal preconditions,

With every kind
Of unrefined
Emotion propositioned.

And peace was first
To be dispersed,
But found to be too needy,

And war was last
To be outcast,
Because it was too greedy.

Where refugees
Found room to breath,
But only for a while,

Then longed for home
Beneath the gloam
Where old light filled the aisles,

And wood extolled
Contented souls
That unknown to their owners,

Did not require
A chest’s desire
For elsewhere’s new corona.

But memory
Had long relieved
These creatures of supposing,

So they forgot
Where home was shod,
And dwelt without its clothing.

Until one day
A youngster came
Back from his monthly hunting,

With frantic news
Of woodland views,
And strangers he’d confronted.

Especially one,
A stall foreman,
Who’d said, in confidence,

That in those woods
The giants could
Once more take residence.

For there had been
Much evergreen
Since their old circumstances,

And now was time
To carry rhymes,
And spread them in the branches.

With narrative
Disparities,
They’d sell their outside world,

To forest folk
Tied to a yolk
That long ago had curdled.

Who’d at the drop
Of headwear swap
Their fecund scenery,

For some place less
Completely dressed
In life’s machinery;

With open veins
Of fallen rain,
And skies of risen light,

And distance due
To a profuse
Occurrence of far sight.

Regardless of
Their once beloved
Connected constitution,

They’d trade away
Their homes today
For private evolution.

And with his words
Promptly affirmed
The foreman they did meet,

In low landscape
Their plan took shape,
To keep it’s size discreet.

Now waiting for
Her paramour,
A giant chieftain sat,

To bear a note
A woodsman wrote,
And start the final act.

T W E L V E

She’d several doubts
Clouding about
Conspiracies as such,

And even though
They were high blown
They still displeased her much.

For since she’d met
That heavyset
Round shouldered forest man,

She couldn’t bat
The feeling that
Something was underhand.

She knew the songs,
She sang along,
She knew the poems too,

But in the thick
Of limericks
Was nothing of cuckoos.

Or lavish deals,
Or things concealed
Beneath an old motif,

Or changing course
Towards the source
Of seminal beliefs:

For they’d resolved,
In days of old,
To spread their elements,

And not to cower
Beneath the bower
Of old provincial tents.

And though they praised
A homeland raised
Amidst the trees of Eden,

She knew her tribe
Had since ascribed
To other forms of reason.

Once leveled foes
Who did oppose
Their elders’ wanderings,

And smoothed a patch
For them to hatch
And fetch up future kin.

And long ago
Endured the glow
Of raw light from above,

That changed more space
Than distance traced
Could ever have removed.

But recently
An urgent breeze
Had blown up from the clans,

And word took flight
About the plight
Of sacred holy lands.

More banded to
These rabid views,
Until it caused concern,

And even those
Without the prose
Began to urge return.

But no one knew
Where this was to,
So passions once more fell,

Until that fool
Went trading tools
Beyond the furthest well.

And though it cast
Some years past,
Amongst the forest deep,

Their plan’s slow pull
Had twined until
Its catch was set to keep.

And so she sat
With these contrasts
Campaigning for her vision,

Unable to
Contently view
The outcome of the mission.

But waiting for
Her lover’s call
To say it was a dream,

Recalled he’d gone
To meet the man
Who’d come up with the scheme.

And why was he
The one to be
The bearer of bad tidings?

Because, was he,
Who’d crossed the fields
To where their home was hiding,

And was the first
To be accursed
By prospects from woods folk,

And last to leave
The traders’ eaves
With news she feared the most.

T H I R T E E N

Back in the grass
Our five souls passed
Their first day of pursuit,

With little voice
Or woodland noise
To help with their commute.

But soldiers’ fire,
And times desire,
Could not the night refuse,

So making camp
Down in the damp
They settled for its use.

As food was made
The seer bade
Our lad to sit beside him,

Then waited ‘til
The others filled
Their bunks, before confiding:

“Now listen son
What has begun
Will have to be resolved,

In darkest night,
And open light,
And all will be involved.

But don’t despair,
Or dally there,
As I will keep thee strong,

And that young lass,
And soldier’s brass,
Will find your father’s throng.

“But once they’re found
We’ll stay outbound
Until we’ve breached our shores,

And parlay with
What creatures live
In lands of old folklore.

And ‘fore you ask
We can’t go back,
As that trade foreman mentioned,

Because he’s pulled
A mighty wool
Over the world’s attention.

He’s fooled them all,
Who trade and call,
He’s tricked the giants too,

And thought he’d get
Away with it
By sending me with you.

“But when revealed
Your dreams to me
I augured from your pain,

The features of
Those who would have
The most from ruin to gain.

So do your best
For this night’s rest,
And let your burdens keep,

For I am here
To counter fears,
Awake and when asleep”

And quietly
Our lad, relieved,
Lay down next to the girl,

And though he dreamt
It was exempt
Of any ravaged world.
* * * *
A morning gloom
Entered the room
Their slender camp had carved,

And deep leaf light
Subdued the site
Until, with flame, it halved.

With soldier linked
The girl’s instinct
Attained the road’s access,

Our lad beside
A second bride
In military dress.

And last, the seer,
Who pulsed and veered
In shadows from the torch,

Alighting still,
As chlorophyll,
Then blazing as if scorched.

And densely stacked
The foliage packed,
Until a clearing followed,

Thrusting them through,
And into view,
Of father tied and hollowed.

And round him strewn
The giants, whom,
On wealth he’d been relying,

With clothing stripped,
And tissue ripped,
And evidently dieing.

F O U R T E E N

The party, sharp,
Were swift to start
Consoling those in need,

Whilst those without
Were in no doubt
Of their life’s certainties.

And father, weak,
Assayed to speak,
But weariness prevailed,

So one brave hulk
Upraised his bulk,
And tried to tell their tale.

They’d foraged far,
Into the dark,
Down homeward avenues,

With father’s eyes
Upon a prize
He wasn’t going to loose.

When on the route
Before them, grouped,
A band of men tenfold,

Who’d lost their way
The previous day
Whilst seeking their own gold.

And once announced
Began to pounce,
And sack their caravans,

Dispensing swipes
To giant types,
Whilst binding up the man.

And cheering as
They sneered wrath
Spoke of being led astray,

By ventures sworn,
From giant forms,
Of wonderment this way.

Then breathing hard,
The prostrate shard
Of storyteller died,

Before the group
Had time to stoop,
And tend his tortured hide.

Our boy looked beat,
As if defeat
Had struck below the belt,

And sage and scout,
And soldier’s clout,
Meant little where they knelt.

But as they stood,
From out the wood,
An able giant swooped,

And swift as soap
Slipped out a rope,
And snared them in its loop.

And peels of grief,
As in relief,
Shed from his mighty throat,

Until the balm
Of coppice calm
Released its antidote.

“I have thee now,
Oh knavish crowd”
The giant did accent,

“And by debate,
And justice great,
You’ll face your punishment

“For murdering
Of earthen things
Undresses nature most,

And my kindred
Have long altered
Its least desired clothes.”

“But listen here,”
Replied the seer,
“We’re not the guilty ones,

We happened by
Long after crimes
Against your kind were done.

Indeed that girth,
On yonder berth,
Is this poor youngster’s sire,

So stall thy rage
And slip this cage
Your haste has ill attired”.

The giant turned,
Somewhat astern,
Towards the figure draped,

And prodding with
A finger tip
Could not arouse its shape.

“For sooth, it seems,
This adult’s dreams
Are more than day’s relief,

So let thee prove
Thy words unto
My wife and tribal chief.”

F I F E T E E N

Now on the road
From high to low,
From forest deep to glade,

The giant surged
Until a verge
Of low fields flowed their way.

“Lo, heed you men”
He said to them,
“And maiden of the trees,

We’re at the bound
Of open ground,
And it’s affinities.

“Its light is strong,
Its distance long,
Its weather plentiful,

But most of all
Its colours fall
From heaven’s sentinel.

So hide thine eyes
Until they dry,
Or you’ll a fever get,

And we’ve no time
To wipe the lime
Your woodland skin will sweat”

And so they tipped,
By toe and drip,
Out of the forest fence;

A serpent slow
As it could go,
Until het up of sense.

But as their eyes
Accustomised
To exposed land, they saw,

Wild bands of men
Who, unlike them,
Had rushed the woodland door.

Then unannounced
The sullen scout
Collapsed unto her knees,

“Oh poor sots
They’ve gone and got
What once afflicted me”

“Be quelled your dread”
The giant said,
“For if you speak the truth,

Those sickly wrecks
May us, detect,
And part us from our youth”

And so as quiet,
And compliant,
As those in honeycomb,

They held their noise,
And crossed the void,
Before their foes pressed home.

And later on
As sunlight shone
Its last on their first day,

Six new exiles
Were still beguiled
By night and its brocade;

Whilst giant hands
Passed pots and pans,
And filled them with a stew,

Which was swilled down,
‘Til fully drowned,
By a thick and sickly brew.
* * * *
The rolling morn
Saw them adorned
In all its finest froth,

So our young lad
Upraised his dad,
And bathed him in its broth.

And neither sage
Nor scout engaged
In formal morning play,

And soldiers too,
Stuck by its glue,
Could not be turned away.

The giant laughed,
On their behalf,
Then urged them to progress;

He’d still to bear
Them in his care
Towards his giantess.

As well as word
Of humans spurred
To chance their sanity,

Encouraged by
A foreman’s lies
And inhumanity;

For he was sure
That market boor,
Whose letter he conveyed,

Was monkeying
With everything,
And leading all astray.

S I X T E E N

Said merchant sat
That moment at
His private writing stall,

With pen in hand,
And giant plans,
Concluding protocols.

He’d offered them
Their old kingdom,
For them to draw rewards,

But his sickle
Was thicker still,
And meant to reap much more.

And forest kind
Were running blind
From each and every hole,

As tradesmen chased,
And dreamers raced
To save a father’s soul.

Whilst all he had
To do was pad
The walls of one more day,

Awaiting for
His messenger
To speed things on their way.

When giants should
Befall the wood,
And greet men at its brim,

And shatter hard,
And scatter far
And wide upon the wind.

He’d seen the greed
Of those beneath
The branches and the briers,

And listlessness
Of giant chests
Which at his stalls expired.

And realized
That both these sides
Were equally alike,

In searching for
A worthy cause
To satisfy their psyches.

So him being here,
For all these years,
With steady trade to mull,

Decided to
Appoint values
To those invaluable.

And once begun
The faithful sun
Will no more flora kiss,

Because those leaves
Will have no need
Of photosynthesis.

As fallen long
Before the strong,
And timbered for their fuel,

They’ll stoke the fires
Of hate’s desire,
And want’s constant accrual.

And carbonize
For centuries,
Deep rooted in the dirt,

‘Til life’s patrol
Once more extols
The chemically inert.

And scorned by such
Redundant touch,
Old sol will swivel free,

And fast resign
Its spatial sign
To his astrology;

Which shall present
To elements,
Both in and out of seed,

A stable reign
Over such planes
As neither could believe.

And he will lord
As long before
Illumination came,

And quilted groups
And wilted troupes
Will celebrate his name.

And in control
Of molecules,
More heady than most mead,

He’ll furnish them
With burnished gems,
To buy and sell and feed.

And beeswax light,
And anthracite,
Will ward their vanity,

And keep them free
Of colour’s need,
And its insanity.

S E V E N T E E N

Out in the folds
Of endless wold
Our company advanced,

Whilst all around
The business sound
Of nature was financed;

With buzzing things,
Whose beaks and wings,
And claws full of the same,

Performed the rites
Of life’s delights,
Until, they too, were game.

And in the midst
Of this checklist
Our forest folk were cowed,

As such a horde
Had never poured
Out of their woodland clouds.

Or run as fast,
Or hopped aghast,
Or chased a dinner down;

The impact of
This new world was
Beginning to astound.

And our young lad,
With his comrades,
Was soaking up the sun,

Like morning leaves
That had received
Their first communion.

But at a stroke
Enchantment broke,
Beneath the giant’s feet,

And gears were greased
As speed increased
Towards a far retreat.

Where after breath
Had sorely left
The hardiest of lungs,

They entered gates
Swung wide in wait,
As giant voices sung.

And moved to match
The tune dispatched
Their large companion hailed,

The gathering
Of giant lings
That all before them wailed.

Whilst from the swell,
As silence fell,
A regal figure strode,

Anointed with
A lover’s gift,
And ready to bestow.

But sweethearts kept
Themselves in check,
Because of their mandate,

And whispered words
That no one heard,
Though all could estimate.

Then filing through
The avenues
Of reverential bows,

Entered a hall
Were customs stalled
The surging of the crowd.

“Now tell me all”
The chieftain called
To her beloved spouse.

“Of news amassed,
And papers passed,
And strangers in my house”

“It is as told”,
He answered, cold,
“Before I left to hear it,

A motion set
With epithets,
And everything should fear it.

And these six shook
From forest nooks
Have seen it in its nest,

And bravely so,
And blameless blown,
Though charged with their own quest”

“I thought as much”
She said, untouched,
“So caution must prevail,

And any friend
Thee recommend
Will help with its detail.

So call the wise,
And advertise
For any greater still,

For now’s the time
For pantomimes
To lose their wordless chill”.

E I G H T E E N

That very night,
With beacon light
Broadcasting from on high,

The clans were called,
And summoned all,
To meet and mobilize.

And word was sent
To those entrenched
Already in the wood,

To hold their tongues
Whilst out amongst
Its human neighborhoods.

And incidents
With residents
Already hypnotized,

Must be addressed
Without the threat
A giant may imply.

And men who’d fled
Their region’s edge,
With avarice directing,

And found the way
Confused and dazed,
Would have to be protected,

Before their rage
Had disengaged
Completely with their sense,

Infecting those
Inclined to woe,
And willing to dispense.

The signs were met
By alphabets
Known only to sign tenders,

And as the hours
Of darkness flowered
Their messages engendered.

And watching rows
Of giants flow
Towards their walled surround,

Our young man tired
Until required
To sleep upon the ground.

Where verse, as such,
Glowed from the touch
Of sunlight in its glory,

And booming high,
Beyond the sky,
Was apt to tell its story:

“I am your one
And only sun,
And solar is my realm,

Whose rolling planes
And ocean drains
Array my golden helm.

Where bodies large,
And nescient charged,
Migrate across my range,

Completely blessed,
But spiritless,
As grace has been estranged,

Long closeted,
And composite,
Amid the ancient mores,

That first took root,
And then bore fruit,
And grew inside the forest.

“And must remain
Forever same,
Lest heaven is trespassed,

As bodies die,
And spirits fly,
In one great bloody bath.

So hear me boy,
Do not employ,
The purpose of the foreman,

As he is keen
For spine and screen
To extricate their organs,

And harvest youth,
And age’s truth
Beneath his bitter scythe,

And instantly
Fulfill his needs,
By reuniting ties.

And one last word
To be referred
To giants once awake,

Convince their chiefs
That their relief
Will be for you to make.

So know his name,
Where names remain
As tangible as breath,

And call him out
To disavow,
And spurn the sight of Death.”

N I N E T E E N.

“For it’s as bold
As dreams foretold,
That I alone can save us,

As even day
Will loose its way,
If all out war is favoured.

And I’m prepared
To take my share
Of any reprobation,

As coalesced
With life’s process,
I’m everyone’s salvation.”

The giants gasped,
As our lad passed
The last words of his witness,

Until the seer
Sought all to hear,
Whilst rising to address,

“And when you’re asked
Whose name is tasked
With keeping ruin at bay?”

“I’ll say with pride,”
The boy replied,
“My own, disclosed today;

The first zygote
To earn a vote,
And learn its influence,

And realize
That paradise
Is everywhere at once.”

He left it there,
As from her chair,
The Chieftain rose to speak,

With every face
Of either race
Awaiting her critique.

“So Dread’s conspired
With our desires,
And played us all for fools,

And made men flee
Their sanctuary,
And giants seek renewal.

And left you wide,
And clear eyed,
And totally professed,

That on your own
You can atone
For our selfishness.

“Our wise may urge
A different purge,
But they are all forgetting,

That my love, dear,
And your own seer,
Have personally met him.

As I have, too,
And always knew
That something was not right,

So galvanized
With speed’s supplies,
We’ll follow you this night.

And intersect
Where he expects,
But not with stone and staff,

And wait for thee
To intercede
On everyone’s behalf.”

“And I’ll attend
My people’s mend”
The sage said in addition,

“And waste no more
Time on the shores
Of sunlight’s intermission.”

The gathered crowd
As one, aloud,
Agreed this grand design,

And westward swept,
Towards the steppe,
That bound the timber line,

Where morning snapped
Night’s overlap,
With more than usual glee,

And our young boy,
And his envoys,
Were carried carefully.

And on day eight
The earth was late,
In welcoming its light,

As forest trees,
And attendees,
And giants blocked its sight.

And in the wood
Our young lad stood,
Before a tortured scene,

Whose market stalls
And tented walls
Were now the ash of dreams.

T W E N T Y.

He dropped the brand,
That from his hand,
Had set the fire going,

And waited as
Beyond him, passed,
The scent of charcoal glowing.

“What deed is this?”
Behind him hissed
A rasp he recognized,

And turning saw
A shrouded maw
From whence it had chastised.

“What aims consume”
The foreman fumed,
And foamed as his voice broke,

“And illness winds
Out of thy mind,
And settles on my cloak.

Do think thee vast
With ranks amassed,
And tense as catapults,

Or bright enough
To brave a bluff,
And get the right results,

Or hope for signs
That may deny
The fate thy dreams portend,

Or terms to stay
This foretold day’s
Inevitable end.”

“Fair options, sir”
The boy concurred,
“But none of them are mine,

All I require
Is flame’s desire
To show the clandestine.

And scour the land
Of your commands,
And plant them deep today,

And call you hear,
And face your fear,
And frighten it away.”

The foreman raised
His scythe, unfazed,
And made to sweep it down,

But as it peaked
Its edge was streaked
With sunlight’s golden crown.

“This cannot be,
Within the trees.”
He howled a wild recanting,

“The outer world
Cannot unfurl
Inside, without my granting.”

“But look upward”
The boy implored
“The canopy is falling,

As bodies braver
Than the grave
Are spiritually calling.

And will not fight,
But re-unite,
To bare mortality,

And when you foist
No other choice,
Will well contented be.

“As once alive,
Forever wived,
Should soul and spirit live,

And string the bow
Of time’s arrow
‘Til mind and body give.

For I am life,
Whose love is rife
Throughout the world’s expanse,

And you are death,
Whose lonely dress
Is worn for our last dance.

So get thee gone,
Endymion,
For we have been aroused,

And sleep no more
Will for us draw
The shape of our warehouse.”

So Death denied,
And his desires,
Before the fearless left,

And only showed
When his shadow
Had nothing to contest.

And our brave lad,
Whose questing had
At last released us all,

Grew to a man
Out in the land,
Where leaves now chose to fall.


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