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

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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.