A Breath Knell

By Nicholas England

I knew nothing of poetry until my editor sent me his essay on “Paradise Lost.” We had many discussions. I reviewed all of his thoughts prior to reading the very text. I had not reached the conclusion of the first book before the course of my life’s passion had changed forever. I watched hours of lectures. I read “Paradise Regained” and “Samson Agonistes.” I got my hands on every book of literary criticism that I could, and thence began my endless study of giants. I started writing a poem in ottava rima at the behest of that same editor. I struggled, and I learned, and I desisted. Then I gained a muse, and I sang in her honor, and to mine.

Here are eight poems and four stories. Some of these gestated for years; others were conceived and written in the flash of an hour. Some were written by request; others "should never see the light of day." Regardless of their differences, I hope that you dear readers find enjoyment in their collection, and that you may take them as tokens of a promise here given — a sedulous career of careful intent. Here’s to you all! Let’s keep it weird.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicholas England
• Release date: Apr 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301839032

Nicholas England

Nicholas England is a poet and writer living in California. He has only just begun.

Book preview

A Breath Knell

a zine by

Nicholas England

Copyright 2013 Nicholas England

Smashwords Edition

See more works by Nicholas England at

http://www.thejuvenilia.net/

Table of Contents

the beauty of seity

The People’s Poem

Regarding Vegetarians

Ode to Smokers

Heineken

A Dog the Exit Keeps

Lanugo

Velleity

Some Idle Sap

Empty Shade

Pecans

The Ogress on the Bicycle

* * * *

the beauty of seity

look deep into his barren eyes, the helical

pathways and speckled circuits -- orbs unblurred

by indistinctions of the phrenic circle…

he will conduct you, clarity conferred,

unto your self -- arrest him! -- he will force

you to conclude your quest, and once interred

your possibilities shall soon divorce

in all directions, leaving you in focal

silence to witness your breathtaking source

* * * *

The People’s Poem

What can this poem do for you? You crave

passionate death, though you were not invited

to an ecstatic martyrdom; the present

sights of the firing squad are trained on you–

and your soft eyes shall see here soon enough

the darkened chasm of your dearth. To write of

annihilation – for is this not

the aspiration of all the great works?–

you would have pathos, vivid and expressive,

hidden behind life’s glorious extinguish;

you fail to realize that fate condemns

from its inception. You fruitlessly seek

some tragicomic romance to inject

your dull catharsis, but we die subdued

and with