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Bard: A Celebration of World Literature & Study of Archetypes
Bard: A Celebration of World Literature & Study of Archetypes
Bard: A Celebration of World Literature & Study of Archetypes
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Bard: A Celebration of World Literature & Study of Archetypes

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As the title suggests, Anthony North looks anew at literature, ancient and modern, giving it a new poetic twist, outing the importance of archetypes at the heart of storytelling. All the greats re-imagined through verse and flash in the ultimate mash up of mash ups.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAnthony North
Release dateApr 16, 2021
ISBN9781005646899
Bard: A Celebration of World Literature & Study of Archetypes
Author

Anthony North

Thinker & Storyteller****7,453 Words to Save the UK and I,Writer are now FREE. Scroll down to find them.*****1955 (Yorkshire, England) – I am born (Damn! Already been done). ‘Twas the best of times ... (Oh well).I was actually born in the year of Einstein's death, close to Scrooge's Counting House. It doesn't mean anything but it sounds good. As for my education, I left school at 15 and have had no formal education since. Hence, I'm self-taught.****From a family of newsagents, at 18 I did a Dick Whittington and went off to London, only to return to pretend to be Charlie and work in a chocolate factory.When I was ten I was asked what I wanted to be. I said soldier, writer and Dad. I never thought of it for years – having too much fun, such as a time as lead guitarist in a local rock band – but I served nine years in the RAF, got married and had seven kids. I realized my words had been precognitive when, at age 27, I came down with M.E. – a condition I’ve suffered ever since – and turned my attention to writing.Indeed, as I realized that no expert could tell me what was wrong with me, I began my quest to find out why. Little did I realize it would last decades and take me through the entire history of knowledge, leaving me with the certainty that our knowledge systems are inadequate.****My non-fiction is based on P-ology, a thought process I devised to work with patterns of knowledge, and designed to be a bedfellow to specialization. A form of Rational Holism, it seeks out areas the specialist may have missed. I work from encyclopaedias and introductory volumes in order to gain a grasp of many subjects and am not an expert in anything, but those patterns keep forming. Hence, I do not deal in truth, but ideas, and cover everything from politics to the paranormal.When reading my work I ask only: do I make sense? Of course, an expert would say: a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. I agree. And an expert has so little knowledge of everything.I also write novels and Flash Fiction in all genres.

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    Book preview

    Bard - Anthony North

    Bard:

    A Celebration of World Literature & Study of Archetypes

    Anthony North

    Copyright: Anthony North 2021

    Cover image copyright: Yvonne North, 2021

    Smashwords Edition

    No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission

    Other books by Anthony North

    In 2019 I began publishing 14 volumes of my fiction, inc 7 novels in most genres, & 21 works of non-fiction covering cults, politics, conspiracies, religion, disasters, science, philosophy, warfare, crime, psychology, new age, green issues & all areas of the unexplained, inc ufology, lost worlds and the paranormal. Hopefully appearing at the rate of one a month, check out the latest launch at my bookstore at http://anthonynorth.com or buy direct from Smashwords for all devices at: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/anthonynorth

    In addition to the above, you may like my ‘I’ Series – 8 volumes of flash fiction (horror, sci fi, romance, adventure, crime), 4 volumes of poetry & 5 volumes of short essays from politics to the unexplained. Available from same links as above. Also check out my bookstore for news of my books out in paperback.

    CONTENTS

    Spy

    Horror

    10 Flash Fictions

    Ghosties, Vampires & more

    Poetic I

    Childe Me, Writer Unbound

    & Rime of the Ancient Poet

    Strange Thrillers

    9 MicroNovels

    Serpids, Rhythm, Chocolate, Secrets, Scents,

    Confessions, Wonder, Shapes & Greenery

    Essays In Verse

    Bible II, 3 Essays & Biographies

    The19th Century Novel

    Prof Paradox

    Relative Distrest & Star Ship Quantum

    Crime & Detective Stories

    12 Flash Fictions

    Detectives, murderers, Villains & more

    Realities of Yarpechet

    Tonynomicon

    The Reports - 6 Terrors

    Thinkers’ Library

    Party Politic, Poverty of Nations, Knowledge Flash,

    A Vindication of the Rights of Humans & Neo-Feudalism

    Science Fiction

    9 Flash Fictions

    Space Opera, Time Travel & Dystopian Nightmares

    Art & the Gang

    Trahiscom

    inc The Shakespeare Code

    Very Short Plays

    Photos, Characters & Thoughts

    Proto-Prose

    inc 12 Twisty Tales

    Conclusions – a Poe-mare

    Poem by Willy Wordy

    About the Author

    Connect With Anthony

    SPY

    Canto One

    Firefight & Betrayal

    This is a ballad of the archetypal Spy,

    Le Carre, Deighton, weep and cry;

    Adventure, yes, but not so fond,

    Not as delightful as good old James Bond;

    We’ll not meet him yet – the scene must be set,

    Spycatchers are out, an infiltrator to get;

    Tipped off, following – Is this who they want?

    Or are they puppets of dis-information’s font?

    Mother and baby come up first,

    Shadow the man who’s well-rehearsed;

    Traverses the city by circuitous route,

    Trying to identify the busker and flute;

    Pushchair and instrument transmit at ease,

    Then it’s a tart looking as if to please;

    Finally Spy’s happy he’s evaded the tail,

    Spycatcher smiles, no humour derails

    What Spy is after matters not,

    He just needs to steal any info they’ve got;

    It has nothing to do with making defences lame,

    It’s all simply part of that horrendous ‘Great Game’;

    ‘Cos if people don’t feel an internal threat,

    Armies unpopular – no weapons they’ll get;

    His gadgetry bristles, letting him in,

    The building hides a multitude of sin;

    Break the neck of that sloppy guard,

    Go through the door using his card;

    But is that a shadow that shouldn’t be there?

    Special forces have laid a snare;

    Confusion reigns as Spy takes a dive,

    Bullets fly – macabre jive;

    He’s trained long – he’s quite a gem,

    Or maybe he’s just more psycho than them;

    He pulls his pistol, hot lead replies,

    A head explodes, then he flies,

    Through the door, after his prize,

    Doing all to defer his demise

    Hot breath, sweat, heart beat races,

    Spy needs composure – where are his graces?

    He escaped the building, stole a car,

    The chase through the city took him far;

    But soon they’re gone, evaded with ease,

    Now he has a woman to please;

    ‘Twas her who told him where to go,

    And now he puts on quite a show,

    Wooing gently, removing her clothes,

    Then upon her he does repose;

    Obviously Spy knows she’s a double agent with style,

    But pleasuring her showed great guile;

    There’s artistry to this spying role,

    If not, then no novels or movies unfold;

    Hence, as she orgasms, as if by rote,

    He takes out his knife and slits her throat

    Canto Two

    Mandarins Anonymous

    Meet the man who controls our Spies,

    A shady character, we cannot deny;

    Rose through college, army and law,

    Yet no papers exist to tell us more;

    An official, yes, but officially not,

    Identify him, you might get shot;

    He’s a man we can truly despise,

    So many ghosts in those haunted eyes;

    But what is this!!!? The telephone rings,

    A field agent with news to sing;

    Spy is missing, no one knows where,

    Yet no sign of any despair;

    Simply a problem to sort, then deny,

    Oh, the heartless world of the Spy

    Conference called, Mandarins meet,

    Many a rat takes his seat;

    Above them all a Politician presides,

    Supposedly there for democracy to thrive;

    We’ll never know what he wrote,

    Simply that he’ll always protect his vote;

    Around the table, Mandarins few,

    Scheming and lies now ensue,

    It’s clear to them they’ve got a Mole,

    Hence the increasing Spy death toll;

    We cannot say paranoia sets in,

    It’s always been there in their pursuit of sin;

    Decision made, action to take,

    Desk Officer directed to correct the mistake;

    No time, now, for any distress,

    He’s simply a pawn in their game of chess;

    So how to uncover a double agent, a Mole?

    Time to let loose a treacherous soul;

    Phone call made, his job is done,

    As long as it goes well, he won’t face a gun;

    But always diversions, distractions are made,

    Else our security may die or fade;

    And as Mandarin is told of the coming strife,

    He leaves, has sex, then home to the wife

    Canto Three

    Honey Trap

    Hari is a special girl,

    More than beauty, brains and curls,

    In Spook parlance a specialist true,

    Hopefully she never meets me or you;

    Surgically enhanced in every way,

    Rarely will you see such curves and sway;

    Regularly she goes and has her test,

    For HIV, STIs and the rest;

    We meet her in an exclusive club,

    As she passes her Mark he feels the rub;

    Apologies come from her lips,

    But Mark is dreaming of those hips,

    Conversation light, she’s drawing him in,

    Soon to indulge in so much sin

    Preliminaries over, back to her room,

    Mark has no idea of the coming gloom;

    An official in an Embassy near,

    He’s no reason yet to worry or fear;

    On his mind is the sex on display,

    Hari is certainly never fey;

    Afterwards, she’s covered in perspiration’s gleam,

    She’s done her job, pimped by the queen;

    Mark is then allowed to go,

    Hari’s partner has filmed the show

    The following morning, glare of the sun,

    Hari dressed sober, no room for fun,

    The café is secluded – another assignation,

    Mark arrives to betray his nation;

    Of course, he doesn’t know this at first,

    But the pictures, the hit, well rehearsed;

    He knows, then, he’s been grabbed by creepers,

    For names of Legals, Illegals and Sleepers;

    At first he refuses to play Hari’s game,

    But she knows he will soon be tamed;

    More pictures come out – she’s covered all angles,

    Of his mother, last night – now he dangles;

    She’s snatched and imprisoned in a special way,

    In the ages-old blueprint for Guantanamo Bay

    Canto Four

    False Flag

    A Spy is lost in a foreign land,

    Intelligence suggests he needs a hand,

    Not to save him, you understand,

    He simply knows too many plans;

    He’s left a message at a drop,

    And soon he hears from a friendly sop;

    Told where to go, he arrives on time,

    Doesn’t hear the bell toll, not chime;

    Luckily his instinct works so well,

    Finally hearing the warning bell;

    He shoots at just the same time as he,

    Then back into shadows – time to flee;

    But his leg is wounded, he limps away,

    Fighting the nausea that makes him sway,

    Cursing the false flag, its deadly toll,

    Obviously betrayed by that damned Mole

    Spycatcher’s minions are on the trail,

    Saw their prey limp into a shadowy veil,

    Report position, cast the net,

    Others race, such a threat;

    Hearts a’pumping, adrenalin flow,

    Heat of the chase for their foe;

    This is what it’s all about,

    Normal life just has no clout,

    So the adventurer seeks the ultimate thrill,

    Tax payers paying a mighty bill,

    Just so big kids can have their fun,

    Storming about with a great big gun;

    As were others as the net closes tight,

    Sure to catch the spy that night;

    But Moles cannot always know it all,

    As the good guys have a ball;

    Another false flag they’d chased so far,

    And met their death from a speeding car

    Spy has time for a brief respite,

    All alone in the night,

    He knew back-up would come his way,

    They’re always ready for a double-blind prey;

    Confidence seems to infuse him now,

    Plan B is on – he’ll soon take his bow;

    Contact comes out of the nightly haze,

    Escape enters another phase?

    So much disinformation, deceit and conspiracy,

    Moles and false flags have such intimacy,

    As a sadistic sneer heralds a fate is sealed,

    Spy in down, taken off the field;

    Spycatcher stamps his boot on Spy’s wounds

    Who screams in the night before he swoons

    Canto Five

    Torture

    Into Poe’s dark, damp pit,

    An uncomfortable chair upon which to sit,

    Light shines brightly in his eyes,

    In front, a silhouette to despise;

    He’s told its morning but he thinks it’s not,

    Disorientation – a cheap, cheap shot,

    Then its night, he’s

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