Long Kinsmen Poems

Medieval Poems



Deor's Lament (Anglo Saxon poem, circa 10th century AD)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Weland knew the agony of exile.
That indomitable smith was wracked by grief.
He endured countless troubles:
sorrows were his only companions
in his frozen...

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Like the twelfth
juror in the play
I must say I am not
convinced
For I know a recipe
for trouble 
I have seen the
double standards
And I do not approve
this for Kenya
I will never approve
it, and neither
Would you, dear
friend of...

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From my lowly bachelor’s house
Proudly christened ‘Embassy Fair’
I woke up to the chirping of birds
On the trees above and across the vale
And the riverine bushes in-between
I woke up to the crowing of cocks
And the mooing...

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Nylon waste is often akin to a brushed out stable, manger, or stall. But brushing the carpet is often a resemblance of a swirling cloud of dust and tobacco shards and tobacco shards are not...

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To this day, the breath labours on still 
Marrow birthing blood same as ever 
to keep this battered carriage oiled
The soul wills the flesh to hobble on 
and prays the spirit keeps aflame 
The game...

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Booth made famous on April 15th, MDCCCLXV... 
Sic semper tyrannis ad mortem
("Thus always I bring death to tyrants").

Ever since early forerunners 
of twenty first century
mankind (sprinted 
across trackless expanse extant
upon planet Earth), 
modern Homo Sapiens...

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THE BLOODY TOWER

I am so trapped a phantom princess, on an ethereal plain, spiritually
Forgotten in isolation's domain, in hell's chamber of brick and mortar,
In this imprisonment of the unjust, I'm the innocent accursed, in England's
Bloody...

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The Wyrdes were like the Fates, controlling human destinies.

The Wanderer
ancient Anglo-Saxon poem
translation by Michael R. Burch

“The one who wanders alone
longs for mercy, longs for grace,
knowing he must yet traverse
the whale-path’s rime-cold waters,
stirring the waves with...

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"The Wife's Lament" or "The Wife's Complaint" is an Old English/Anglo Saxon poem found in the Exeter Book, which has been dated to 960-990 AD, making it the oldest English poetry anthology. "The Wife's Lament"...

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It should come to you as no real surprise, that the selfsame pro-choice and 
infanticide of twenty eight days to murder their newborn children, who survived 
abortion.  Most likely even if they were never...

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SAVE US FROM MY MOTHER'S OTHER CHILDREN

We are products of a polygamous home
A family of many mothers and single powerful father 
Our  mothers were never united but formed alliance with few other wives 
Many...

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Story of ancient
In lips of current
In a town of Baabo
The king was Baabo
In those times as vast as they can go
And as longest as they can know
In Exploitation flash and bones
The people
And every wealth is...

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HIS WEALTH

He was renowned for farming 
ploughing lands as large as atlantic  
but his harvests he keeps beyond the sea
beyond the sea all he got

Down here, his roof leaks
his town roads untared
they make use...

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As I sit and watch
Watch you denounce the obligatory violence
Announcing and pronouncing the fabricated freedom
Joyfully commemorating and celebrating your assassinated true leaders
The enemy killed not the leaders but the ideas
You buried not them but the...

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Widsith the Far-Traveler, Part II
ancient Anglo-Saxon poem
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hrothulf and Hrothgar, uncle and nephew,
for a long time kept a careful peace together
after they had driven away the Vikings' kinsmen,
vanquished Ingeld's spear-hordes,
and hewed...

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The Wanderer, Part II

Awakening, the friendless man confronts the murky waves,
the seabirds bathing, broadening out their feathers,
the hoar-frost, harrowing hail & snow eternally falling…

Then his heart’s wounds seem all the heavier for the loss of...

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“Of all flowers, methinks a rose is best.” – William Shakespeare, The Two Noble Kinsmen

Sweet Rose, for ages you have blessed the human race
with your beauty, elegance and grace.
You show yourself to us in so...

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Born into the family of seven
Handed over the last born baton
By the other descendants of the 
Pa Noah  “Mekolani Olajide’s” fame.
Her sojourn in life starts from 
The far down “Sora”,
Sora to “Odo Alafia” 
“Odo...

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Brutus Iulius Trois page 08 

Suddenly stillness all sounds silenced  the last pirate slain.
From the bowels of the Tireme came cheers that grew louder
From men newly freed from their enslavement  to the Thracian...

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Before I tramp the course of my cause,
A family indeed we were, I and Kole
But I short of years from the other.
Only by words we keep memory of
A deceased mother like morning dew
Sought for by...

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This is a tale of a broken heart
This is the news that was whispered in the market.

When I saw the maid from Mazi Nduka's house
I dreamt she was my spouse
So that my melancholy days were...

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Panic shook her spinal cord
Her hands trembles with troubles
Her voice became thicker and deeper
Like that of a baritone
Losing count of her made calls
To her kinsmen since morning
Where could he be?
What could have happened to him?

Flashing...

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Buddgelin Bey – Translation of Rex Marshall’s « Buddgelin Bey » by T. Wignesan

(Rex Marshall, b. July 16, 1943 at Grafton, belongs to the aboriginal tribe, Thungutti/Gumbaingeri of the Baryulgil
Reserve in New South Wales. He...

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incompetence seats imperviously in the rock, 
watching his last drama in senility; 

surrounded by old scoundrels as himself.
Same tyrant of yesteryear who through the powder invaded sanity, 
stalling  dreams by their guns. 

incompetence foist...

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I WISH I WEREN’T AN ANT
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS



I wish I weren’t an ant, my survival rate is scant
Done in by a pesticide, or a shoe, as I gallivant
A solitary figure, when I roam, I am...

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