Rasputin

The Tsarevitch lay moaning,

He was dying in his bed,

The bleeding wouldn’t stop,

It turned the little fellow’s head,

When somewhere through the darkness

Where a peasant dared not roam,

A bearded monk came lumbering in

And headed for the throne!

 

He had some mystic power, this monk,

Worked miracles, somehow,

And Alexandra wept to see

Her son, so peaceful now,

The Tsar was more than overwhelmed,

Invited him to court,

This Grigori Yefimovich,

The healer they had sought!

 

Each time the haemophilia

Brought young Alexis low,

Rasputin, by his bedside

Would appear to stem the flow,

They saw him as a holy man,

The women, hypnotised,

They met with him in secret,

Raised their skirts, and spread their thighs.

 

He revelled in the scandals

And he bragged of them in court,

And even Alexandra

Was the subject of his sport,

The Tsar went off to fight the war

And left them all behind,

Rasputin with his mistresses;

They say that love is blind!

 

The nobles, they all hated him

His fame, and loving arts,

They needed to be rid of him,

Black murder in their hearts,

Prince Yusupov invited him

To visit at his home,

Then fed him poisoned cakes and wine,

And left him there alone!

 

The poison didn’t seem to take,

The monk was quite immune,

The plotters there had panicked

When they came back in the room,

The prince took his revolver

And he aimed it at his heart,

Rasputin fell back dead - or so they thought;

It was a start!

 

He lay across the table as

The wine spilt on the floor,

Prince Yusupov bent over him,

He didn’t seem to stir;

But then Rasputin lunged at him

And grabbed him by the throat,

And Yusupov cried out: ‘Will no-one

Free me from this oaf?’

 

Rasputin staggered to the door,

Another shot rang out,

Purishkevich had waited

‘Til he heard the prince’s shout,

They rolled him in a sheet, and then

They heard Rasputin groan,

As they dropped him through the ice

Into the Neva, where he drowned!

 

He was buried at the palace

On the orders of the Tsar,

But the revolution came,

And saw Rasputin disinterred,

When they tried to burn the body

They were shocked to see him writhe,

Try to sit up in the flames…

As if Rasputin was alive!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Delin Colón]

You are, without a doubt, an extremely skilled poet. I stand in admiration. However, as the author of a new book about Rasputin ("Rasputin and The Jews: A Reversal of History"), I've been working very hard to dispel the many myths surrounding him - the tales of promiscuity and drunkenness fabricated by the rabidly antisemitic aristocracy because he promoted equal rights for the severely oppressed Jews of Czarist Russia, as well as for the peasants. Many know that he tried to interfere in politics, and they assume that's a bad thing. However, he was trying to fight bigotry and the penchant for war that were so rampant in that era. The evil lay in Czar's promotion of antisemitism and war, with little concern for the lives of Russians, other than the nobility.
You can read more at http://therealrasputin.wordpress.com/

[Nirmala]

You still see the likes of Rasputin in Russia even without the Tsars! Many offspring?! Women still swoon hypnotised by the charm!
They saw him as a holy man,
The women, hypnotised,
They met with him in secret,
Raised their skirts, and spread their thighs.

When they tried to burn the body
They were shocked to see him writhe,
Try to sit up in the flames…
As if Rasputin was alive!

Excellent lines that beautifully and interestingly capture the legend!

[...]

Totally amazing rendition!!!

[Tate Morgan]

lol oh yeah this tells the tale as it was .I wonder was he really superhuman o9r on viagra lol

[Dinesh Sairam]

I would go with Mark too. The slant rhymes didn't quite work out. But I'm not fully suspicious of the ending- I'm just not sure if it was meant to be satirical or sentimental.

Other than that there's nothing more to quarrel about. You have your rhythm and it's perfect. I would just like to see more personal poems from you. Because as good as AL Tennyson (Yes, you remind me of him in a pleasant way) wrote 'The Charge of the Light Brigade', so much did he write 'Crossing the Bar' and 'In the Garden at Swainston'.

Keep writing.

[Emerald Seas]

A clever writing, David. Always happy to read your work!

[Poppie Mira]

Wonderful, I always love and respect your work.

[Mark]

While I cannot and would not ever second guess the work of an acknowledged master such as yourself, a couple of factors somewhat lessened my pleasure in this one David. Missed rhymes in the last stanzas interrupted an other wise perfect flow (grown/drowned, throat/oaf). Additionally, the ending (As if Rasputin was alive!) seemed a little precipitous. I'd like to see one additional "wrap-up" or "summary" stanza ("In the Russian Revolution/ Grigori played no role/ No horse, no blade; in Palace stayed/ Yet the story were not whole/ For the family of the Tsar/ Their souls and wills did yield/ To Grigori Y. Rasputin/The monk who was thrice killed!" Only an idea, of course)

That said, may I thank you yet once more for taking an episode from history and making it approachable and comprehensible by it's conversion into near-flawless verse? I've learned more of the history of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries from YOU, David Paget, than ever I did at the knee of droning professor!

[Leigh]

A Marvellous rendition, so alive with character