Spectral Horse Poems No. 2

By Simon Pole

More poems about God, paratroopers, vampires, and tetrapods. Sonnets, songs, poems long and short in rhyming and blank verse. Includes the complete verse novella, The August Vampeer, in 40 stanzas.

No. 2 in the Spectral Horse chapbook series from Simon Pole, author of The Saga Terminal City.

Poems included:

The Paratrooper
Abraham and Isaac
Pennyworth’s Arcade
To The Tetrapod
The Choice
Bella’s Poem
Honing the Blade
The Big Empty
Three Books, Not Two
The August Vampeer
Safety Vest
Dawn of the Dead

Bio

His mind corrupted by childhood exposure to horror movie matinees, but equally enthralled by the atmosphere of old churches, Simon Pole writes cosmic poetry from the location of Vancouver, British Columbia. A graduate of Harvard University, Simon has continued his studies of what is hidden in the dark. Writing is also in his blood, being the great-great-grandson of early Canadian poet Susie Drury.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Simon Pole
• Release date: Jan 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310974465

Simon Pole

His mind corrupted by childhood exposure to horror movie matinees, but equally enthralled by the atmosphere of old churches, Simon Pole writes cosmic poetry from the location of Kingsville, Ontario. A graduate of Harvard University, Simon has continued his studies of what is hidden in the dark. Writing is also in his blood, being the great-great-grandson of early Canadian poet Susie Drury.

Book preview

The Paratrooper

In your film I will not paraded be,

Nor with my comrades replay our capture,

With wooden arms, and so instill rapture

In you, our congenital enemy.

By all means throw me in your pit, and let

The waters close and drown—I will not act,

Nor will they, for human pride is a fact,

Without which we are like the cringing pet.

It is our essence which proceeds from God,

Which against the able foe is measured,

In accord with correct usage of war.

But this beret I most of all treasure,

Which we all wear, and will for evermore,

Though it be our sore death countrymen laud.

Abraham and Isaac

O Father, why do you that dagger poise,

While around us cascades the mountain’s noise:

Waterfalls and washouts where whirlwinds wheel,

As on me the shake of your hand I feel.

My Son, remember, why it is you live:

In our old age, God a child promised give.

We laughed, but he to man our life provides;

Think on this and comfort your fears inside.

But Father, a trial is this wooden bed.

Where is the lamb to be offered instead?

Is it right a child to let suffer here,

When no crimes have stained his innocent years?

Good Son, through us to the world comes a boon:

For numberless folks, like stars by the moon.

Again God to us has promised great hope,

Though in the present with anguish we cope.

Father I see it the sheep in the brush,

Our God from the future to us has rushed

This sign that he will his covenant keep,

Though our bones be dust and long ages sleep.

My Son, this ransom he puts in your place:

And so