Ogre peered from his cave
Sadly gazed through the haze
Straining his old eyes
To glimpse the horizon
And searching for the sight
Of that far distant cape
“It’s been many eras”
His voice murmured gruffly
Tugging at his cruel chains
“Ages since I traipsed there
The old times have long gone
With cute maidens to rape”
“Mythological men
Who believes in us now?
Water nymphs and monsters
Inflamed by our passions
Deranged by jealousy
Roaming the landscape”
“We were terrible then
But couldn’t sustain belief
You humans do worse now
As we just gnawed on bones
But they have filet of beef
And call their pancakes, crepes”
“No, I’m used to this life
And would feign exchange it
A tremor I will cause
When I tug on my chain
But you destroy the earth
Turning it to moonscape"
image found at www.tagsessions.blogspot.com
I guess myths and lores remain "alive" because of the faith of common man.
ReplyDeleteI wish I could write this kind of imaginative poetry.
ReplyDeleteTry living here, old lad. Odin still rules, and Ilmarinen's hammer strikes somewhere every day.
ReplyDeleteMy goodness you really dived into this cave Old Egg - the words served you well I think...such a clanking of chains rumbling through these words..i don't want to be around when they break..
ReplyDeleteI liked this story in your poem.
ReplyDeleteyour image is grotesque, ha!! what a nice poem to go with it,
ReplyDeletemuch love...
I really like myth-making. Yours suggests that we humans have become the ogres but hints of still existent chains that rattle. We may feign forgetfulness, but the child still remembers and trembles. That might be a good thing.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
Myths get us going. I like what you did with this...
ReplyDeletesoulfully I stare at nothing
Love this tale!
ReplyDelete