Inauguration

[dedalus]

This seems to have been a custom among the Celtic tribes until the first few centuries of the modern era. The Doge of Venice "married" the sea by throwing in a ring to the passing waves from his richly-caparisoned gondola. The not-so-ancient Celts seem to have had a more direct approach ....


Conch shells, a blare of trumpets,
a flare of the band of pipes.
My poor old father is dead.
I am the new king.
I plan to get rid of
most of his old advisers.
In the meantime
I have to publicly fuck a horse.

There's no way out of it.
Tradition demands it.
I asked if I could choose a horse I liked
but was told to be patient,
that the priests would arrange it all.
Also, the poor bloody horse
had to show signs of satisfaction.

Dear gods!

Here am I with my Latin and Greek,
a student of Heraclitus,
soaring along with Homer
but dependent on the sighs
of a large-arsed animal.
It gives a new meaning to riding.

My people are both fierce and loyal
and we face a bitter war:
strangers have come among us.
They look to me to lead them and I will
but I cannot be their king
until I fuck the horse.

I don't want to fuck a horse.
This is an ancient and stupid custom.
I don't want to shame myself
except with David, whom I love,
and that in private.

I shall have to marry
after the horse, of course,
one of the daughters of the O Cahans,
a sharp-nosed family of usurers
who count their money.

O gods, here we go.
This day of dread has arrived.
The clansmen in bright colours and banners
are drunk already; wives and daughters
gather in set-aside tents.

I feel sick.

I am dressed in ancient robes
and dangling, tinkling, medallions.
They lead me out to a stage of new wood
in the centre of a grove of ancient oaks
and I beg my knees to carry me on.

A great cheer and the high-pitched Gaelic cry
thunders as I mount the steps.
I wave with all the enthusiasm
of a man condemned to the gallows
and wait, wait for the horse.

O gods, here she comes,
a two-year-old mare from the looks of her,
as they whack and chivvy her up the ramp;
the poor thing looks as nervous as I feel
and I stroke her nose in sympathy.

Hello, darling.

Then there's the mumbling of the priests,
a suspicious breed in any association;
cold hard-eyed men with soft and flabby hands
who murmur in a code of memorized words,
who feed on fear and superstion.

One of these hooded halflings
looses the cords of my trousers
and I stand, ashamed, before my people.
He grins at me, the idiot, and I smack him hard
and a cheer comes up from the multitude.

O yes, we like violence.

Lugh of Light, Mananaan of the Sea,
come down, ye gods, and save me!
But the gods are silent. They are always silent.
I stand there, drooping, I cannot do this,
the innocent horse is also silent.

The whores of the town are sent up to me
to get me going, and a wave of laughter
ripples among the gathered throng;
mothers shade the eyes of their daughters
but laugh along with their husbands.

Do I want to be king?
I must be king: a bitter war, I know, is coming.

The whores do their business, I start to rise,
then mount the ladder behind the horse.
It has to be done.
It has to be done.
What shame.
What barbarism.

It doesn't take long,
I pretend it takes longer.
I raise my fist and scream,
Will you follow me to the death?
Yes, they roar, they will.
Yes, they roar, yes and yes and yes!
This is what I needed.

[BenJohnson]

I am just off to write out 500 times I must not prejudge. I saw the title and thought 'yet another Obama tribute' and left this to last. Mind you it made it a better surprise. What a subject to choose!

I can tell you have really put some thought into this I will need to read it a few times to give a proper crit, but you seem to have really created a character who despises the rituals he must go through, once created you have got into his head. Personally I would like some indication that this character would either try to remove this custom once in power, something like

Then there's the mumbling of the priests,
a suspicious breed in any association;
cold hard-eyed men with soft and flabby hands
who murmur in a code of memorized words
feeding on fear and superstion.

They will be first to go
followed by this custom of fucking a horse

something like this, or some gloating that his follower would have to suffer the same

I like the touch about David, I expected this to be picked up again when the whores are doing their work, I expected no response, until catching sight of David in the crowd, then audiences pleasure that the whore seem to have achieved their end.

The opening stanza is just fantastic, the old king is dead, I'm taking over and then the smack in the face with the custom to be performed.

This section

It has to be done.
It has to be done.
What shame.
What barbarism.

felt a bit clumsy in comparison to the preceeding section.

It also felt a little over long, I wonder if it would benefit from a trim to make it tighter and bring out the central theme more strongly. If any of this sounds like I didn't enjoy it then I have given the wrong impression, a unique view told with a wry sense of humour, a great start to the day.

[dedalus]

Hi Ben,

Thanks for the thoughtful crit. Yes, the poem was set off by the ceremony in Washington but a train of associations led me to write what you read! It could do with a trim. Most of my historical poems tend to be a bit shaggy as new ideas and possibilities kick in. What I particularly liked was the way you started speculating on some of these possibilities ... would the new king abolish the custom or preserve it? was his lover David in the crowd? In this sense the poem was at least partly successful in that it triggered off a reader's imagination. I doubt if the king could have changed the custom even if he had wanted to and he certainly would have been bitterly opposed if he went up against the all-powerful Druids. It's interesting in this context to recall that Julius Caesar went out of his way to exterminate the Druids after his conquest of Gaul seeing them as the one unifying power that was capable of bringing together the various squabbling tribes. It's also doubtful that the new king could have been homosexual, certainly not openly so. I'm sure homosexuality existed (hasn't it always?) but as far as I can make out it was never culturally condoned by the Celts. That was just another little 'shocker' thrown in for the sheer devilment ... and because we have a number of Davids on the PG forum!! It's always a bad sign when one starts cackling and snorting during the writing of a poem!

Cheers,
Brendan

[Nigel]

I quite liked the verve and bravery of this poem. It canters along at a comfortable pace. Yes, it is a little overlong but the narrative insists you finish it. It would be more effective if the use of language was more imaginative in places and the preface is an unnecessary distraction. It could also be tightened, e'g' - 'My poor old father is dead - you don't need 'poor' because it has no relevancy to the poem. Most of all I like the horse sex concept for sending up ritual. There's not much justification for ritual these days.

[David]

I don't want to shame myself
except with David, whom I love,
and that in private.

Hey! Stick to the horse.

Ah what the hell.

Very funny, Bren. And ever so slightly unnerving.

Cheers

Eric

[Sharra]

I found this unsettling to read, I guess it was because it was a taboo being treated with a light hand. Once I got my head round that part of it, I thought it was very original subject matter (But just HOW did you get from Obama to this? Maybe best not to ask?)
I did also feel that it was over long and could do with tightening, it felt like you wanted to get every detail in, and maybe that isn't necessary?
Sharra
x

[R. Broath]

Epic in its scale, Brendan, and grotesque in the manner of much legend. Some of the language seems too modern but the enthusiasm of the telling outweighs this minor niggle.

Jimmy

[OwenEdwards]

What niggles I had have been outlined already. However, you got me thinking about Browning, and that's no bad thing. More dramatic monologues please!

[pseud]

Only suggestion, one that you probably anticipate because free verse gets this one alot: I think it could work just as well, if not better, in paragraph form.

I can....vaguely....see the connection to Obama. Though Obama, like most other U.S. Presidents, (a) wanted to be leader, and much more significantly, (b) didn't have to fuck a horse.

This was good though.

Caleb