Monday 26 November 2007

The Happy Youth



He was young, he was foolish,
he thought the world was his.
He thought that he could party
for a hundred centuries.
He laughed, he played,
he loved the women long,
he danced until the morning,
singing his carefree song.

He took no heed of danger,
he laughed into its face,
he did not see them coming,
till he fell into disgrace.
They stripped him of his raiment,
and took away his name,
they nailed a number to his head
and revelled in his shame.

In the galleys of the slaves
a bitter life he learned,
with the outcasts of the city,
whose hatred it had earned.
The murderer and the bandit,
for company he kept.
And watched his anger growing,
as the broken ones wept.

He learned to hold his temper,
to hide his thoughts within.
To give the pickpocket a growl,
and the whiphandler a grin.
He looked out across the sea,
remembering half-forgotten land,
and his nerves grew hard as steel
as he tried to understand.

His heart grew cold within him,
his lust for life burned down,
the laugh, the smile, the tousled curls,
lost to matted locks and frown.
No hope, no life no dignity,
no pride left in his name.
Only a back embedded with lashes,
living his life of shame.

And one day, when the Emperor died,
a glorious amnesty!
Slaves chained up for pleasure seeking,
might happily roam free.
and back home to the city,
that once carefree boy did go,
to find solace in a mug of ale
and women he might know.

But the cloud was upon his brow,
no laughter did he find.
The creak of the oar, the crack of the whip,
did echo in his mind.
No peace at sea, no peace on land,
no happiness for he,
the image of a beaten corpse,
flung into the sea.

He sat upon the benches,
in the tavern in the gloom,
a stranger to the dancing,
his head full of the doom,
The twinkle in their eyes,
the youths and maidens bore,
did strike a chord within him,
where had he seen that before?

Alone upon the seashore,
he stared into the foam,
the galleys he cringed in fear of,
the city no longer home.
He shivered in his being,
as he turned towards his path,
and wrapping his cloak around him,
gave a bitter laugh.

I just wanted to say, because I don't think I've said it before, just how important to me each and everyone of you who come here is to me.
I often talk about people important in my life, but I forget to mention some of the obvious ones. All of you.

Thanks.

13 comments:

Anonymous said...

How depressing. I hope this is just a prophetic warning and the Happy Youth is able to avoid the fate as laid out here for him. Hope springs eternal while there's life.

Anonymous said...

Crushed,
My finger is pulsating. It thought is was going to vote today. It is very sad now. :-(

Anonymous said...

Some dance to remember,
Some dance to forget


It seems blasphemous to visit an Englishman's blog and paraphrase the Eagles, but this verse was appropriate. Especially in the scenes you conjured of the darkness that pervades even public places like a local pub. I could see the smokey air, here the music entwined with voices. And most of all, I could see the young faces that reflect what the narrator once was, before innocence was laid waste.

I always dig some good verse. This had the old time feel of rhyming verse, with a warning of modern import. Always a good read here.

Anonymous said...

Some dance to remember,
Some dance to forget


It seems blasphemous to visit an Englishman's blog and paraphrase the Eagles, but this verse was appropriate. Especially in the scenes you conjured of the darkness that pervades even public places like a local pub. I could see the smokey air, here the music entwined with voices. And most of all, I could see the young faces that reflect what the narrator once was, before innocence was laid waste.

I always dig some good verse. This had the old time feel of rhyming verse, with a warning of modern import. Always a good read here.

Anonymous said...

Even me, Crushed?

Anonymous said...

Awwww.. How sweet of you to say that - I am all tearful now.........NOT!!

Anonymous said...

You're very sentimental right now hun. Is anything the matter? text or call me, let mw know you;re alright, AND LET ME KNOW ABOUT SATURDAY FFS!!! *hugs*, love me xxx

Anonymous said...

Thanks for the thought, Ingsoc. We wouldn't come here if we didn't like it.

Anonymous said...

I like this poem.... very sweet...

Anonymous said...

jmb- :) Its not a prophecy.
But maybe there is hope in the last four lines.
Maybe he has found strength in his realisation.

Alexys- You came too late! Se the post below!
The new poll is up already!

Eric- The Hotel California, you can check in but never leave. I understand that all too well.

I think the verse forms that tend to hit my mind are influenced partly by the romantics, sometimes by Spenser.

James- Of course :) We may not agree on all things, but we are here for the same reasons.

Mutley- Well, I wouldn't want you to cry about it. But I mean it all the same.

SS- Even I get sentimental. Is something the matter? I think I might have mentioned it before, but I'll tell you later. I'll give you a bell before I go the pub.

E-K- :) I know. But SOMEONE doesn't like this blog and they devote a lot of energy to trying to destroy it- as in leaving very spiteful comments at every female blogger I visit.

Eve- Sweet? I suppose it has bittersweet qualities. Such is life.

Anonymous said...

And thank you, Crushed, for making us all think.

Anonymous said...

Sorry - I know you do. I feel the same way....ahem.

Anonymous said...

Don't be too crushed. Those are great lines