Speaking of time and tide...

I am reminded of King Canute or Cnut or whatever you want to call him.

Here’s a poem I wrote many years ago as though I were he. [Editor's note. Notice my use of the subjunctive mood, which indicates that my being King Cnut is an impossibility. Notice also my use of the possessive pronoun to modify the gerund in the preceding sentence. Finally, notice far fewer exclamation points in the poem below than it contained the other two times I posted it on this blog. --RWP]


Canute (994?-1035)
by Robert H. Brague


I, King of all the Britons, and Denmark mine as well.
My star approaches zenith. In Caesar’s train I dwell.
More kingdoms to be conquered, and all shall be laid low.
And feudal lords shall bear me liege wherever I may go.

And shall I stop at kingdoms? Nay, tarry here and see:
The winds and waves shall hearken, and both bow down to me.
No more shall raging ocean erode this harried shore.
But it shall do my bidding, as Christ’s in days of yore.

No more shall sea advance upon the gray and shifting sand.
Now cease your endless churning! Subside at my command!
It is Divinely ordered. You must obey my will.
In God’s name I command you. Hear and hearken: “Peace! Be still!”

But can I be mistaken? And can I be denied?
My words have no effect! Still onward comes the tide!
The swirling eddy rises! The tide attacks my knees!
It hears commands more regal than this lowly creature’s pleas!

God’s kingdom is eternal, mine but of measured span.
What foolishness emerges from the haughty heart of man.
I am but mortal monarch -- oh, hear my fool’s heart cry --
‘Tis chastened by the deafness of a greater king than I.


I don’t know, somehow it loses something without those exclamation points. Falls flat. Feel free to disagree. [Editor’s note. Click on the Labels section below to view the other two posts. --RWP]

aabb or abab?

In yesterday’s post I presented my poem “Canute (994?-1035)” complete with its 26 exclamation points and three question marks (four if you count the one in the title). You are to be commended for reading it, if you did, and if you didn’t, the world is still turning.

I actually made two versions of the poem, one rhymed aabb and one rhymed abab. That is, in each stanza of the first version, the first and second lines rhyme and then the third and fourth lines rhyme; in the second version, the first and third lines rhyme and the second and fourth lines rhyme. I did have to make one small change (“But it” became “And they”) but you probably would never have even noticed if I hadn’t just told you.

I know there are more important questions facing the world (Will that pastor in Gainesville, Florida, burn a copy of the Koran tomorrow? Will Tony Blair’s book reach the top of the New York Times bestseller list? Will Lindsay Lohan make it all the way through rehab?), but I can’t decide which version of “Canute” I like better. So I’m asking those of you who actually read the first version to share your thoughts with me to help me make up my mind. I am also aware that my friend and former colleague Sanford J. Epstein, a 305-lb. Jew who wore a Kelly green suit every St. Patrick’s Day and changed his name tag to read Sanford J. O’Epstein, once said, "If there’s a difference that makes no difference, then there is no difference."

For those who wish to participate, the rules of the game are simple: It doesn’t matter which version you read first as long as you read both versions.

Here’s the second version (abab):


Canute (994?-1035)
by Robert H. Brague

I, King of all the Britons, and Denmark mine as well!
More kingdoms to be conquered! And all shall be laid low!
My star approaches zenith! In Caesar’s train I dwell!
And feudal lords shall bear me liege wherever I may go!

And shall I stop at kingdoms? Nay, tarry here and see!
No more shall raging ocean erode this harried shore!
The winds and waves shall hearken, and both bow down to me!
And they shall do my bidding, as Christ’s in days of yore!

No more shall sea advance upon the gray and shifting sand!
It is Divinely ordered! You must obey my will!
Now cease your endless churning! Subside at my command!
In God’s name I command you! Hear and hearken: “Peace! Be still!”

But can I be mistaken? And can I be denied?
The swirling eddy rises! The tide attacks my knees!
My words have no effect! Still onward comes the tide!
It hears commands more regal than this lowly creature’s pleas!

God’s kingdom is eternal, mine but of measured span!
I am but mortal monarch! O, hear my fool’s heart cry!
What foolishness emerges from the haughty heart of man!
‘Tis chastened by the deafness of a greater king than I!


I eagerly await your thoughts.

The unbelievable we do immediately. The impossible takes a little longer. (U.S. Marine Corps saying)

When I was young my parents bought a 20-volume set of The Book of Knowledge and a 20-volume set of Grolier Encyclopedia from a passing salesman. During the years I lived at home, I spent many an hour leafing through those books. Every once in a while something really grabbed my attention.

One such item was a painting (published in the book in black and white, so perhaps it was a lithograph) of King Canute at the edge of the sea with some of his courtiers in the eleventh century. It showed the king speaking to the sea, telling it to stop pounding the shore with waves. I was fascinated by his temerity.

Late breaking news: The sea ignored King Canute and kept doing what it has always done (helped along, no doubt, by the gravity of the moon). Film at eleven.

Time passes.

A few years later I composed a poem about the scene in the painting/lithograph. Here it is (William Makepeace Thackeray, eat your heart out):


Canute (994?-1035)
by Robert H. Brague

I, King of all the Britons, and Denmark mine as well!
My star approaches zenith! In Caesar’s train I dwell!
More kingdoms to be conquered! And all shall be laid low!
And feudal lords shall bear me liege wherever I may go!

And shall I stop at kingdoms? Nay, tarry here and see!
The winds and waves shall hearken, and both bow down to me!
No more shall raging ocean erode this harried shore!
But it shall do my bidding, as Christ’s in days of yore!

No more shall sea advance upon the gray and shifting sand!
Now cease your endless churning! Subside at my command!
It is Divinely ordered! You must obey my will!
In God’s name I command you! Hear and hearken: “Peace! Be still!”

But can I be mistaken? And can I be denied?
My words have no effect! Still onward comes the tide!
The swirling eddy rises! The tide attacks my knees!
It hears commands more regal than this lowly creature’s pleas!

God’s kingdom is eternal, mine but of measured span!
What foolishness emerges from the haughty heart of man!
I am but mortal monarch! O, hear my fool’s heart cry!
‘Tis chastened by the deafness of a greater king than I!


Okay, so William Makepeace Thackeray probably has nothing to worry about. Scout’s honor, I was not aware of Thackeray’s poem when I wrote mine.