David Kavanagh Poet Ekphrasis

Notes About The Poem

An ekphrastic poem inspired by Hieronymus Bosch's 
triptych painting This explores the battle against 
temptation, both mental and physical, utilising imagery 
from the painting as inspiration to enhance the surreal 
depictions and psychological intensity. 

The Temptation of St Anthony

The Temptation of St Anthony

I entered the desert, 
took a vow not to speak 
Lucifer’s here too, hoping 
silent men grow weak 
My path seemed so straight 
but quickly became oblique 
I question whether it is I 
that fetishise the bleak

The fish sang in bass tones,
dirges I once knew
A trapped fiend plucked strings 
from a hamstrung canoe
The joyful decapitated 
are half man half shrew
As laughter echoes from whalebone
prisons, meant to subdue

Beasts around the table 
chant a satanic grace
I saw my own face 
in the filth they embrace
Physicality beckons 
in this unholy place
I pray what I've seen 
my mind can efface

I avert my eyes 
to remain true and just
From helping hands 
that will morph and disgust
I’m not paranoid although 
filling with lust
Some gifts look divine, 
served by demons I distrust

Deities fawn and 
confess their obsessions
Say they’ll absolve me 
of any transgressions
I’m losing my will and 
might make concessions
God be with the days,
I had my own possessions

As the churches crumble 
the habits reveal
Is a sin still a sin 
if you know it’s not real
If this is right, I’ve done 
no wrong to appeal
I’m out on my feet, 
but not ready to kneel

Even the heavens are tainted 
with monsters that float
Their droppings rain down, 
but I tighten my coat
Hunching to dodge scythes 
that fixate on my throat
Focus past pain 
to salvation so remote

Calm amidst chaos 
is my weary repose
Rock bottom cannot 
inflict any more woes
Right now it appears 
as if anything goes
Should I step up to the plate 
or keep on my toes

I’ve stooped low in thought
but never in deed
I’ll rise to full height 
and in good faith be freed
After all, what’s a hellscape 
unless you take the lead
I’m not yet a saint, 
just planting the seed

I’ve long left the desert, 
beatified in name 
People believed me broken, 
and can now heal the lame
I found peace in tortured 
mind, I battled to tame 
Wrested truth by devotion, 
exposed lies within shame.

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Terry Flood August 4, 2025 at 3:33 PM Hmmm.. “Not yet a saint, just planting the seed” sounds like he had his eye on the prize all along. I’m not gonna claim to get every line, David, but every line reads great and makes for a mind boggling whole. Kinda felt like I was reading ‘Alice in wonderland’… the Bram Stoker version. Brilliant. Terry David Kavanagh August 5, 2025 at 1:07 AM Heya Terry, thanks so much for the high praise, Bosch’s painting certainly draws one down that Dracula/Frankenstein rabbit hole, if you can zoom right in on the detail it’s quite unsettling to ponder, Ha I don’t think the protagonist in my poem had any idea he would become a saint, although the seed was no doubt planted by his life of destitution and torment in the deserts of Egypt, legend has it he was actually wealthy and gave it all away! Cheers David

Lin Lane August 4, 2025 at 9:25 AM I see you in many of these lines... certainly not those demonic in nature. Those traits belong to others. "Calm amidst chaos" and "I’ve stooped low in thought but never in deed." The power of your imagery is excellent in your line, "A trapped fiend plucked strings from a hamstrung canoe..." One would wonder~ was he playing while Anthony preached to the fish? I jest, but at best, Anthony was only human. Lin Lane August 4, 2025 at 10:48 AM I don't find anything you write to be a menace in my perception, David, but woe to those who do not and should ;-) David Kavanagh August 4, 2025 at 9:52 AM Hey there Lin, St Anthony was only human, as indeed we all are, I don’t believe any man/woman is beyond temptation, the painting itself shows the perceived madness and excesses going on all around him, one does wonder about the story, but I cannot imagine many fish in the desert lol! this one is purely an instinctive reaction to Bosch’s masterpiece, There is a St David out there somewhere, but it ain’t me, ;-) thanks so much for commenting on this somewhat menacing piece, cheers David