Jul 09

The Swineherds Tale: A Rebellious Epic

An apology: I just realized that a word in the second stanza was mistyped as a word relating to an individual of a certain religous group, which can sometimes be viewed as disrespectful. I sincerely apoligize for any discomfort or offense this accident may have caused, none was intended. If you as a reader ever find something in my writing offensive, please let me know, as that is far from my intentions. It is important to me to respect all those who respect others. 

Crowned with olive branches,
the tangy scent of oil still clinging to their leaves,
the elders, cloud robed and faced,
gathered in meeting.

One rose,
as if to appoint himself
the central jewel in a tarnished crown,
but was intercepted by a hurled pig’s tail

Which lodged itself
between the twisted ruddy lip framing his mouth.
The storm clouds of Zeus himself
seemed to shudder and froth
around his countenance,

Once the dignitary had pulled forth the hairy grissle.
he hobbled down the marbled aisle
in thunderous silence,
eyes spewing lightning
in search of the one tall enough
to wallop an insult.

Among the tall and brass clad,
his gaze of electric fury failed to expose the swine.
However, the smooth polished pedestal
revealed soggy earthen tracks
of forward facing arrows,
the ground-shape of such a creature.

The wizened one’s storm-charged eyes
followed the muddied trail,
to land, shocked, on a young swineherd,
peering from behind a stone bench,
a simple clay water pipe in soiled hand.

The guilt of crime confirmed
by the spatterings of grease surfacing the pipe,
he drew his robed arm,
preparing to call for the purging
of the this pheasantry pollution,

- To be stopped again
by an earth-soiled hand,
raised in a manner of such confidence and calm
as to silence all anger and destain.

For the first time,
the cloudy elder eyes
met those of the grimy swineherd,
and saw
Not a urchin looting the counsel for mirth,
but his own face reflected in the central depth

A tranquil balance of stormy energy
and pastureral peace. -

The elder’s hand changed course,
beckoning,

As the trivial clouds rolled away,
giving way to the galloping sun,
which shone upon them in a bath
of tangy liquid gold.

#sos18