Alasdair Paterson
From: MY LIFE AS A MAD KING
Villanelle the twelfth
Of unmade kings there’s no end
here come the angry horsemen
here come the purifiers
Before the chrism licks your scalp
send off the stranglers with a list
no end of kings who never quite
Keep your friends on subsidy
keep your enemies subsoil
here come the pacifiers
Step away from parapets
no shut-eye in locked libraries
of misshelved kings there’s no end
Up the food tasting budget
set a guard to watch the guard
here come the paramedics
Wave your sons off to the wars
ransom what a long slow business
of unmade kings there’s no end
here come the purifiers
Villanelle the thirteenth
Madness id est noble rot
let me let me count the ways
bloodlines and/or events dear boy
Deep down in the escutcheon
a blot a spot a blisterette
madness id est noble rot
Or some things the elders did
shadowlands behind closed doors
bloodlines and/or events dear boy
My shelves bow with case histories
each worm is a perfect digest
madness id est noble rot
Read all about the greenwood loon
the poster boy for love philtres
bloodlines and/or events dear boy
The one who burned his playhouse down
the one who failed to read the wall
madness id est noble rot
bloodlines and/or events dear boy
Villanelle the fourteenth
The planet spins me through the dark
my cosmos is blacker than yours
I never ask for signs of grace
I fought the wars of missing gods
my god is more absent than yours
the planet turns me to the dark
In the banned book library
my worms are better read than yours
I never looked for signs of grace
New worlds wear my livery
my germs are better armed than yours
the planet sneezes through the dark
My sins fill up a box a day
my soul floats lighter than yours
I never lack for signs of grace
My winding sheet stays under wraps
my shelf life is longer than yours
the planet spins me through the dark
I never ask for signs of grace
Villanelle the ultimate
Threescore years and ten go past
and seventy-one won’t be back
and even the fool turned white
Many a truth lurks in jestbooks
but not enough to fill the cracks
threescore years and ten trudge past
Riddle me sir which came first
the neck-wringing or the omelette
and even the jester blanched
To teach the answer to what goes
on four and two and three legs
threescore years and ten grind past
Teeth and bells and cap and smiles
a song or two about the rain
and even the zany tottered
A man walks into an oubliette
I forget what happens next
forget what happens next
forget
Copyright © Alasdair Paterson 2015
Having won an Eric Gregory Award for his poetry in 1975 and published
collections in the mid-1980s including The Floating World (Pig Press) and Brief
Lives (Oasis Books), Alasdair Paterson returned to writing after a 20-year gap
with On the Governing of Empires (Shearsman 2010). In 2011 he published two
pamphlets: Brumaire and Later (Flarestack) and In Arcadia (Oystercatcher),
followed by another full collection, Elsewhere or Thereabouts (Shearsman 2014).
He lives in Exeter, where he is co-presenter of the monthly Uncut Poets event
in the Exeter Phoenix and chair of ExCite, the Devon Stanza of the Poetry
Society which organizes the annual Exeter Poetry Festival. Four of his poems appeared in Molly Bloom 2.