The Book of Talisen

For love of the ancient songs

 

The Bard.

 

Kiss the cloud come lights the day,

touch the face that sings this way.

 

Walk the path that leads so fair

touch the falling through soft air

 

Rich the wood triple scented kissed

Swirl of pipe breeze lifted mist

 

Dark the folds of landscape sift

High in hills wild floating drift

 

Roars the ghost of hills now warned

Shout the hunter hunting dawn

 

Swift the winds that cross the moor

fill the legends, speak of shores

 

The Song

We pour mist into lost fields cross the stars

We find painted idols, canvas marked like playing cards

We dream, a sign of leaving, taking hours

We sing, all sadness of final scores

Shall we wait to carry on?

 

 

The Legend.

 

Ah, I hear the pipe

Do you hear it too?

The Curlew bright

a shining bird in concert

with the song of these moors.

 

Oh but to hear the singing

just once, once more, my love.

To see the seventh wave, the pull

and the northern seal

Watch until the deeps thunder

 

To feel the running, just this last once

and the stag in antlered rutting roaring

To see the silvered strings

and gold leafed dresses

of the blessed harp in the shivered trees.

 

Gathered with wheat singing in the field

The stacks of sweet, so sweet yellow

The vixen's cry for precious young

and a wreath of grass that you will wear

in your life that is a rayed red sunset

 

The best fish leaping

The swans necking the lake weed

The talon clutch of a flying shadow

the blue of the hare on the mountain snow

and the world that was before

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Talisen was a Welsh poet of the Dark Ages. One of the sources for Merlin.

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

If nothing else, you would score significant points just for the act of saying, in effect, "Listen, I'm going to invite comparison of my work to one of the oldest and most notable pieces in the Western Tradition, if that's OK." That involves tackling some pretty heavyweight stuff, and, in my view, you acquit yourself admirably. The opening is, fittingly enough, very much like an invocation of the muse ('fill the legends, speak of these shores"); the final two sections are epic-like in tone, and have that tinge of melancholy and longing you find in epics sometime for the halcyon days of yore, as it were (cf. "all sadness of final scores", "life in a rayed red sunset). It's admirable to see someone grapple with weighty themes and subjects; it's even more gratifying to see it done with skill and insight.

[emmajoy]

No single man should have all this running through his veins, tis beautiful in every way, the skill of its writing, its painting of sights and scenes - and most of all, the heart that leaps from it. Can't say more, struck silent .. there.

' .. ' no can't find a special phrase or section, tis all magical.

[holly]

You've spoken in several voices here and in all of them masterfully. Quite an acheivement! This was a joy to read - so many lines pull the reader into them with their physical beauty. I found myself standing in a late October countryside, hearing the hooves of the stag, seeing the mists cross the field. That's the high calling of poetry, to me: the ability to create a palpable moment in time in a few select words. Beautiful, beautiful!

[SM Davis]

This reminds me of romantic reminiscence. Days gone by of memories so sweet...

To feel the running, just this once
and the stag in antlered rutting roaring

Photographs within the mind's eye of days gone by...a reaching out of sorts to the tangible pleasures ... a wistful inquiry to winter ... and another ...

Stunning piece of work.

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

This is quite stunning, Ken. The cadence and rhythm are superb and the imagery is truly divine. One of my favorites from you. I could feel every instance passing me by as if I were in the whirlwind of these spectacles. Thank you so much for sharing your lovely talent.
Light,
Siddartha

[Donald Meikle]

Best line? To see the seventh wave
The rest is great but that brought it to life for me

[SPINNING ON that dizzy ..]

This is beautiful for so many reasons, I don't know where to start! Such wisdom gathered from the lessons learned, the story told... this should be read aloud with one hand to the air and the other tucked behind your back holding a hat with a feather.... yes, that would do and of course, a bow at the end!

K

[Ladysue]

Ken, this is exquisite poetry writing. Very beautifully articulated. It reads like a poetic gem!!!!

[Emily B]

your words are beautiful, as always. Could be the dented, tarnished horn plays the truest notes . . .

[Gandré]

you have written sheer beauty, valuable poetry and great rhyme. i see what i missed!