The Shadow Of God Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCADAEFADAGHIAAJKLM NOPAQADAARSDADTUVWB AXAHJYZA2AB2C2DD2AE2 A F2AAAATAAG2TAB2H2SI2 J2AAHK2AL2 M2AAAJN2JDO2 P2Q2LMDJR2AD A AAJS2AAAAT A TDWM2JIAAA A AQAAAT2Q2TADASAAAAAD 2 A AJAAAAWM2A A TH2U2SAAAAV2 DW2X2Y2AAAADAO2CAAM2 H2EZ2 AQL2Q2L2H2AAA AADAAATBA3 A B3M2EV2C3D2D3Q2A E3DB2C3DAF3D2J G3DDDM2H2QAH3A DH3I3AJ3M2JAQ2

To Moh csA
in the marshlands still in the pouring rainB
August th where those summonedC
and hastily gathered died in thousandsA
in the space of a moment the chroniclerD
scribbles in the safety of distanceA
cruel panthers in a moment to hell's pitE
That day the guns chained wheel to wheelF
smoke and the cries of men and horsesA
the knights shot from their saddles armourD
dragging them into the mire the hoovesA
stamping them in the infantry butcheredG
in the space of a moment the swiftH
routine of retreat slaughter and routI
the space of a moment No prisonersA
the wails of the wounded the dying becksA
brimmed with blood and the young kingJ
thrown from his horse drowned in his breastplateK
Thereafter Suleyman recalls he sat on the fieldL
in the pouring rain on his glittering throneM
to the long applause of his army I amN
Sultan Suleyman Han son of Sultan Selim HanO
son of Sultan Bayezid Han The shadow of GodP
And they butcher the captives dig the pitsA
to bury their own brave dead horses and menQ
thousand whose last rainy day was thisA
and the other dead lie in the rain or scatterD
their bones in the wetlands and the reedgrassA
Whatever birds pecked out their eyesA
their names are no matter nor the streamR
they drowned in nor the name of the planetS
whose soft brown body they shovelled in afterD
Thereafter the land burns and the churchesA
thereafter women and slaves and silverD
And thereafter pronounces the historianT
his quill's tip brushing his cheek his pointU
squeaking over the page the lamp's glintV
on his inkhorn the long Turkish nightW
the tomb of the nation dug in the rainB
-
In the space of a moment in the centuriesA
moments pile into leaf over leafX
season by season as the winters passA
and the wars roll over and the borders shiftH
it is ploughland old bones surfacingJ
at the hoe's edge and the plough's ironY
scapulae and vertebrae rising in a flatZ
wide fenced country laid open to the windA2
prowled by the tractors of the collectivesA
and the same wandering birds black earthB2
through white snow wind beaten scarecrowC2
and the white silence of another winterD
It is a museum of bones in the thick boneyD2
stew of each other where some bird singsA
in the evergreens and a boy rings a bellE2
in the long white silence that followsA
-
It is a field of poles upright at a pit's rimF2
carved into cruel faces chiselled in grimacesA
spiked helmeted horned a ragged line of postsA
that are totems of men straggling off into treesA
some aslant the long necks of horsesA
rearing from snow They are flail and bludgeonT
and battleaxe calvaries of yokes and the bowsA
of the swift horsemen the trailed armsA
of the willow tree They are the crescent moonG2
and the star the cross the crown the turbanT
and the tarboosh gnarled glances of soldiersA
the figures of dead men rising from the earthB2
Suleyman with a basket of heads at his pommelH2
and the dead king Lajos in his blue bonnetS
Overhead the high jets in the clear blueI2
corridor of cloudless sky above SerbiaJ2
flying the line of the great riversA
whose names are the same though the namesA
of the empires and the nations shiftH
on the maps South of here not farK2
in the debateable lands of the warring statesA
the bones are again rising in the mudL2
-
-
-
Very fast very slow the musicM2
a lament from the villagesA
a music come down from the mountainsA
called across rivers across plainsA
ah no joking and no jokingJ
a gift for the kolo bridegroomN2
the thieves they are singingJ
dance my love dance fasterD
faster till we fall downO2
-
The reedgrass that will be thatchP2
first snowy fields turned in the ploughQ2
A line of trucks in a white fieldL
waiting for grain not yet sownM
end of the winter quarterD
end of the season of cravingJ
the river's ice drifting southR2
snow collapsing from the buildingsA
the days of the death of King WinterD
-
The Bus j r sA
-
Time to take to the streetsA
wearing the skins of beastsA
masks years in the making offspringJ
of the old whisperers in the hearthS2
kin to the devotees of treesA
and certain stones and all riversA
lord of the vines and beastsA
our lady of the wild things the old godsA
who never made it into heavenT
-
Bus sA
-
They step out of the unwrittenT
the unremembered out of IllyriaD
out of the south the dark the flightW
and the distant remembrance of panicM2
the horned hoof footed hard drinkingJ
god of the shepherds They step outI
through the winter streets in masksA
horns in sheepskins and bandoliersA
with their bells and their rattlesA
-
Bus sA
-
With their antlers tall in the skinsA
of beasts belled shaggy moustache menQ
huge with their clubs and hornsA
wild in their tall wooden masksA
coming on from the distanceA
all the years they have travelledT2
out of the unwritten the agraphaQ2
the history of the forgottenT
the long shadows of the lost godsA
At noon they have crossed the riverD
they have taken the streetsA
filled with organized riotS
the ruckus of men in the male danceA
the clatter and rattle of flailsA
the interminable clanging of bellsA
rain clanking into bucketsA
in mockery taking their waysA
through the orders of anarchyD2
-
Bus sA
-
Fierce and yet not fierceA
joking and yet not jokingJ
this is the management of chaosA
the war of the great ratchetsA
the battle of the bells upright animalsA
striding through the streetsA
through the cold falling sunlightW
in a wild skirling musicM2
bearing the skulls of animalsA
-
Bus sA
-
Others come as veiled hooded womenT
a brown friar another the devilH2
a joker in a Russian tank maskU2
a Groucho Marx an Austrian helmetS
And these others ghosts in dirty sheetsA
rags sackcloth and ashes and stocking masksA
bunched in knots of impudent silenceA
young men scattering the girlsA
the dead risen from the deadV2
-
Centuries ago the travellerD
Evliya elebi warned his far flungW2
wandering countrymen of the maskedX2
madmen of Moh cs in the marshlandY2
in their shaggy jackets and bellsA
and their faceless facesA
they are devils devilsA
in the place of devilsA
no one should go thereD
In their own legend of themselvesA
they chased the Turks out of townO2
in terror In the ill disciplinedC
shaggy masked half drunk ranksA
among pitchforks and whirling clubsA
the carved severed head on a stickM2
of a janissary moustache top knot skullH2
goes round and round in the racketE
and the gathering fire and the duskZ2
-
How years ago they were fearlessA
in the place of defeat and rose againQ
how years ago a pig's blood paintedL2
a cross in the town square and howQ2
the masks stained in animal bloodL2
and the wild cries and the koloH2
was their resistance How onceA
they were one with the beastsA
one with men one with the godsA
-
Rutting and butting as beastsA
sticks for pricks bells ballsA
and under the mask is anotherD
and another they are Bus sA
three days of the year Bus sA
parading their ragged squadsA
to the square where the cannonT
from that year of the rainB
thunders mud and rags and smokeA3
-
Bus sA
-
Come nightfall on the third dayB3
of marching and mayhem and musicM2
that is Shrovetide the fire's litE
in the square King Winter is deadV2
carted off in a coffin and burnedC3
On the coffin in floweryD2
Hungarian script it's soldD3
our country it's sold we haveQ2
nothing left but our fathers' pricksA
-
Where does this music come fromE3
an old woman asks From all round herD
from everywhere from earthB2
from the wind from the long turnedC3
furrows of defeat the old sorrowD
the old joy the songsA
of the long gone into the darkF3
It's sold our countryD2
and all the thieves are laughingJ
-
Time to march one last timeG3
on the town and burn winterD
with bells and cannon and fireD
round and around the tottering squareD
masked men and horses the musicM2
round and round the koloH2
the dancing of the hairy menQ
and winter goes up in the flamesA
the tall smoke climbing the skyH3
Bus sA
-
The sliver of moon the first starD
on the pale blue flag of the skyH3
as the sparks flare and die At the edgeI3
of the embers of memory the bordersA
of hearing bells laughter a childJ3
a cough girls singing the swift musicM2
in the ashes of the eveningJ
whisps of voices at a distanceA
in that far offQ2

Ken Smith



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