THE RAMBLINGS OF AN OLD DYING KING

death of a king

“By sneeze or by God’s grievance

By Adam’s putrid ale

Or by those recalcitrant whores

I am ruined

 

Can you then

Mix me an ointment

Fashion me a potion

Find me a cure

Can you?

If not then go forth

And multiply

The pox is still with me

What use the charlatan quack?

 

Child, bring me water bright

I thirst

Bring me water bright now

So I can toast my maker

Get in his good books

I’ll meet him soon enough

 

Girl, yes you

Why do you gaze

At the floor?

Chin up, be brave

I do not bite wench.

I have a need about me

Bring unto me

That big sister of yours

The one who fills

Her bodice so well

That she might lie

With me

One last time

 

I had a dream once you know

A dream that kingdom come

Was a gypsy girl

Dancing to a fiddle

Raven hair, rouge lips

Naked, flaunting her wares

Just for me, and

Lusting for the sake of lust

 

Tell me I’m wrong

Tell me that my

Gypsy girl is not

A fallen angel

Sent to piggyback me

To perdition

 

Then again, I am dying

What does it matter?

A single glass of mead

That’s all I want

Full to the brim mind

Then, I’ll die happy

 

You there, you boy

Don’t pretend you

Can’t hear me!

I want my mutt

At my side

Idle, filthy beast

That he is

He remains my

One true, loyal friend

Fetch him

 

I want him close at hand

More than ever”

 

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20 thoughts on “THE RAMBLINGS OF AN OLD DYING KING

  1. Wonderful. You create such vivid images with so few words, Mike. There’s a deep, warm sentiment to your poetry that I can only describe as truth surrounded in sepia-tone beauty. Reading this is like looking into a distant past that is radiating a truth that touches the now. You are an amazing poet.

      1. ☺It has such impact that in a fluid motion it puts the reader under a spell and he is forced to crave more👏👏👏Brilliant and the imaginative quality to it makes it worthwhile☺

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