Part of the world’s best English epic and narrative poetry includes Longfellow’s Evangeline.

When Evangeline marries her beloved Gabriel in the overflowing peace and prosperity of their native Arcardy: her bliss is complete. But alas – not for long: for the British forcibly expel the entire populance, and of those who survive – many flee across the border to seek new lives and fortunes in America.

Separated from her husband, Evangeline travels for years around the wild west – lodging with sympathetic ex-Arcadians: following the rumored movements of Gabriel. For his part, Gabriel – thinking Evangeline dead – loses himself in the deepest wilds working as a trapper; seeking only to forget his fond memories of Arcady – and Evangeline.

Decades later, an aged Evangeline abandons her fruitless search and settles in Philadephia to join the charitable Sisters of Mercy. But the fates have not yet finished working their wiles on the ill-starred girl.

• While the Sisters of Mercy continue nurse the sick and dying transported from boundary communities, is it yet possible for Sister Evangeline to recognise the fevered features of someone she once knew – and loved?

Want to know more?

• Read the text here.
• Listen to the audiobook here.

Part of the world’s best English epic and narrative poetry includes Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha.

From his’s wooing of Minnehaha; his battles with supernatural spirits; his providing of the maize plant for cultivation by his people; to his welcoming of the Jesuit missionaries who arrive to explain the pre-eminence of Jesus Christ: Hiawatha remains a heroic figure of colossal proportions.

Leaving his people on the cusp of a new way of life – and a new faith: Hiawatha himself departs in his super-naturally empowered canoe to seek the lands beyond the sunset; promising one day that he will return to them.

• Is Hiawatha dead – or did he arrive safely at the happy lands beyond the sun?
• And when will Hiawatha again return to succor and lead his people: in fulfillment of his promise?

Want to know more?

• Read the text here.
• Listen to the audiobook here.

Roll the dice! The gods display
Their rule of earth, of stones and clay,
Of air and water, fires that flame,
Aethers which solidness disdain.
The spheres rolling to heaven’s gate
To eternal themes: of love and fate.
Come – roll the dice! The gods display
Their baleful powers here today.

Roll one! Come mother: fertile earth
That brings all elements to birth.
From you all grow: the great and tall
And everything minutely small.
The forests green, the grassy plains,
The flowers, leaves, the fruits and grains
All trees and bushes, plain and fair -
All thriving, drinking, breathing: air!

Roll two! Come airy element
To blow away the inclement
Fogs veiling sight. Now fill our sails
Uplift our wings upon the trails
Of heaven to walk the path of wind.
To see the earth, to apprehend:
The shapely clouds, the rainbow hall,
The raindrops dancing as they fall.

Roll three! Come water – hail and rain
To baptize earth and sea again!
Come fill the rivers, foam the seas,
To plumb their depths, become at ease
With following each secret path
That flows above or under earth.
Down to the deepest underground
Where waters boil, where fires abound.

Roll four! Erupt infernal flames!
Discharge what fills your fiery veins -
To burn, to purify desire
In puissant heat, by holy fire!
In flames, consume all else away
Matter convert to energy.
Life and non-life: flame sparing neither,
All is transformed into the: aether!

Roll five! Unstopped by earth or air
Or water, flame: aetherial flare!
It permeates the cosmic all
As soul to body, stones to wall.
It flows, it leaps, it dances, runs
Unhindered through a myriad suns.
It travels earth, the heavens, space
Up to the realms which the spheres grace.

Roll six! The cosmic light appears
To mark the movements of the spheres
As rolling celestial paths around
They sing! Their notes harmonious sound
To ravish every sense away
Of traveling souls that call to stay.
The spheres roll on, eternal-driven
To form a stepping stone to: heaven.

Roll seven! Fly eternities
On heaving, blissful, astral seas
Which bless away all blight and curse
And feel the rhythmic universe.
Its colours, feelings, sights and sounds:
Congruent whole, the soul surrounds
To guide us, urge us, quickly wend
And lead us to: the heaven’s end.

Listen!

This music track reworks the text of the stanza of Psalm 119 beginning with the Hebrew letter מ or “Mem” (verses 97 to 104) into song: using GarageBand to mix the vocals and to add beats, synthesizer, and assorted sound effects.

This music project interweaves two-part vocal harmonies to add interest to the resulting music track: fitting the text to a tune that lends rhythm to the words.

Listen to mp3!

Watch on YouTube!

1.
So when to sleep – where does my spirit go?
To what far distant plains – what place explores?
Its ghostly steps doth tread the liquid air
To walk on ground more solid than this earth.

My spirit brings me back – sometimes – a gift:

A dream, a vision, or a prophecy
To open up the future. Or the past.
Revealing things that I could never know
Nor yet perceive myself: even if I’d tried
For twice one thousand years by mortal strength.

Listen to the whole poem!

Man is body: muscle, bone
God is spirit: that alone.
Something new with Christ began:
God created the God-Man.

Jesus, man was, among men:
Born, conceived like one of them.
Mother Mary, she Him bore.
Yahweh His progenitor.

Human mother, Spirit Dad
His parents two, this God-Man had.
On human feet our Jesus trod
Yet still He is the Son of God.

Fully God! And fully man!
En-fleshed according to God’s plan
As predetermined long ago
Before creation. Yea – ’tis so.

Thus Jesus Christ the Son of God.
Lord Jesus Christ – thy scepter’s rod
Shall rule all. Yet one chilly morn
You ‘came a man. Like us: were born!

My friend in joy, my friend in tears
My friend for over eighteen years!

For over eighteen years ago
We met. We loved. It happened so.
And further down the path of life
We two became husband and wife.

We’ve changes seen. Both house and home
And jobs. And cars. We two alone
Have overcome false friends, and foes -
And still we stand. In God repose
Our trust. Our love. Our futures too.
Despite all that the demons do.

What care we, what mishaps may come?
By God: we shall all overcome.
So: laugh at fortune! We stand sure.
God grant us two eighteen years more.

They call me “The Forgotten Man” because I labour out of home
I man the house. I bake our bread. Make money. Always work alone.
My children from me learn of Christ: Him how to worship, how to love.
I teach them doctrine. Thus our minds are lit by truth revealed above.

God smiles on our polity. Provides our every need and care.
Us hedges round, while godless hate attempts our souls to crush and snare.
The noisome world its slippery path descends: our souls grip Christ our light.
My children to adulthood grow. God still our help. Our strength. Our might.

The feminists us men despise. For now all men must women be:
Fathers, husbands are expunged. Mankind: embrace androgyny!
Break marriage chains! Babies abort: for life and death lies in their hands.
Their “right to children” needs no men: for sperm banks meet their each demand.

And barrenness is trendy too: children are chains from which we free
Illicit loves like: lesbians, or homosexuality.
The Fatherhood of God is lost: this pivot of the universe
Rejected. Jesus’ prayer “Our Father” spurned, and treated like a curse.

Old creeds must change to suit the times: God is a “She”. And churches too
Agree too often: sweetly preaching lies from pulpit and from pew.
No wrathful God. No sinful man. No judgement. And no cross of shame.
Let good be bad. And evil good. And all such preachers bear the blame.

“There is no sin!” the speaker thunders. “Come – increase your self-esteem!”
Then there is neither any Gospel – that is what they really mean.
Lies, hypocrisy and falsehoods: preached for mammon and for fee.
Undermining all who listen: excepting those who turn and flee.

From all such lying, may God free us. Men are men – and fathers too;
Christ’s brothers are the priests and kings and prophets of this covenant new.
Manhood distinct from womanhood: different but complementary.
Both gifts from God. Both have their honour. God: open blind eyes to see!

A Faerie-Lord rescues an abandoned human baby: left behind to die by slavers who butchered the inhabitants of his village. The Faerie-Lord names him Shadow-Light: who grows up to return to the lands of men and wage an unremitting war against the slavers who massacred his kindred.

Listen!

Captain Shadow-Light was a faerie-lad,
And who sailed the wild seas.
And he smashed all chains as he freed the slaves
Trapped in foul slaver’s galleys.

He was wild and fey, and a faerie-glow
Oft was seen about his form.
But his freed ex-slaves never cared one wit
For his sake they’d risk all harm.

It was said that he was an ex-slave freed
Who had lost all kin and kith.
He himself said nought. But would draw his sword
And then hew slavers to death.

But a witch-maelstrom came and sunk his boat
And he went down with his crew.
But a few will say, that he was caught up
On his faerie-wings and flew.

But alive or dead, Captain Shadow-Light
Is remembered beyond the grave.
Every slaver fears that he could return
To make free their every slave.

Listen!

Demon:

“Another baby born!

Excellent! Another chance to corrupt God’s image into its antithesis: to transform a life made to be God’s friend into God’s inveterate enemy.

All the odds are on our side: its inherited original sin which mires it from birth, the minute-by-minute temptations we can bring to bear to distract it from eternal considerations, the careful fostering of Adam’s old jungle law – ‘an eye for an eye’ – to give it specious cause for hating everyone who wrongs itself.

It is a glorious thing to see something of no account transformed – under our careful mentoring – into a master of villainy, expert in every vice: perfidious, arrogant, petty, heartless, self-indulgent: finally becoming as proud as hellfire, thus richly deserving its share with us in our eternal home.”

Angel:

“Another baby born!

Excellent! Another life to transform God’s incipient image into His likeness: to see one estranged from God become adopted as His own child, to call Him Father.

All the odds are on our side: where sin abounds, God’s grace super-abounds. By God’s command we penetrate each soul’s prison-cell to illuminate it with revelation: shocking the soul into seeing eternal realities. Thus God disarms the old jungle law of Adam, as each soul realises that God’s Son died in its place and while it was still a sinner. For love most surely proceeds from love: just as life proceeds from and begets life.

It is a glorious thing to see the babe grow into the man or woman: by the grace of God each transformed into the image of our master, Jesus Christ. Each spiritual fruit ripens within to bear its seasonable harvest of: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control: fitting the man and woman of God for heaven, to rule over us in our eternal home.”

A fountain lies across my way -
Made of fractured, lichened stone.
Drew I near to it today.
And stood there – nearby, all alone.
And from its mouth it bubbling drew
A water deep – delicious, dark
Of a strange-coloured tinge and hue.
Approaching close, a voice said: “Hark!
The guardian I, of this here spring
And fountain made of fractured stone.”
The mighty words my ears made ring.
“This weeping fountain will atone
For all the sins of this drear world.
But first you must this water sip
Mind not its colour, darkly-swirled
Around about its fountain lip
But deeply drink. If you would be
Transformed into a Son of Light.
If not – the darkness covers thee
And thou wilt fade into the Night.

I trembled. Stood awhile. A pause.
To drink? Or not? Was all my thought.
But holding to the highest cause
I stretched my hands, the waters caught -

And drank.

Chanting, speaking, spells of mage -
Read the runes on parchment-page.
Spells of making, spells of fear,
Powers making things appear.

Make arise the crackling flame
Summon shadows with their name!
Speak to beasts and plants and trees,
Walk the wind with gentle ease.

Shape-shift, become beast or bird -
Soar aloft at wizard’s word.
Storms a-summon, thunders crack -
Levin-bolts use for attack.

Smoke-wraiths to deceive the eyes,
Mist-shapes weave to fool the wise.
Words command, true naming hear,
Portal open – disappear!

Listen!

Goldir the Wizard lives by himself on a small isle: but remains in touch with the world outside. When his friend, the island-lord of Gorth, imperils both the lives of his islanders and his own by preparing to resist the pirate-corsairs: Goldir is angry. What can one wizard do to save those endangered by Gorth’s actions?

Listen!

An original epic poem by antipodeanwriter!

The Prometheus Epic retells the story of Prometheus – a Titan exile who journeys among mankind: becoming their teacher, friend, and defender against the malicious whimsies of Olympian Zeus.

Zeus has little time or patience for Prometheus.

• Was Prometheus not a staunch supporter of the TItans’ supremacy: a confederation only overthrown after years of brutal war?
• Are not Prometheus’ own father and brothers still confined in chains within the deepest dungeons of Tartaros for their own part in the Titans’ rebellion?

But Zeus – for many years – tolerates Prometheus for the sake of his gift of second-sight: for by it Prometheus can foresee the future more clearly than any of the other Olympian gods. So the Titan is useful to Zeus – and retains his freedom: for a time.

But the day comes when Prometheus refuses Zeus’ demand to reveal a certain prophecy: vouchsafed to by virtue of his second-sight. Zeus’ patience with the recalcitrant Titan finally snaps: and Prometheus discovers what a terrible thing it is to anger the most powerful god on Olympus…

Listen!

I experimented with mixing existing GarageBand loops to author my own music project, christened Acoustic Living. You can download the resulting mp3 file – or play it after selecting it using the box widget to the right.

This music mix created an easy-listening background music track: supplemented with a variety of sound effects to add interest.

Listen Now!

Waylaid I was spending the night at Saint-Jean
But my rest I forsaking, I rose up and came on
To the chapel at night-time: all empty and clean
Only full of the moonlight and its ghostly sheen.
In the silence I sat down to think and to pray
When the figures in stained glass came down then to play.

Unnoticed I sat there, immersed in the shade
Apostles and saints went to romp, and all played.
Saint John and another in hide-and-go-seek
Were joined by some Mary’s, vivacious but meek.
Saint Peter was dancing along with some fish
Then all came to order, as one of them wish’d.

To conference called, all the martyrs and saints
On the altar they perched with some little restraint.
“All moonshine!” one said, to the general glee
“Indeed!” someone giggled – a pert little she.
“No no!” said an angel and one knowing lamb
“Tis the end of the world!” Then the speaking began.

Agreeing: this chapel, its rector, its minister-priests
None knew Holy Scripture – nor cared in the least
Their preaching was so bad it made angels weep
And would send every listener duly asleep.
And those who attended led scandalous lives
Brought shame on the Gospel. None tried to disguise.

“But God will repay them!” said sternly Saint John.
“For us – tis the moontide! Away and come on!”
The colourful figures cut capers and lept
From railing to window, throughout the transept.
Some singing, some dancing, as merry could be
Their race had been run – in the old Galilee.

All night they went freely about in their fun
Only vanishing as the first rays of the sun
Did signal the start of the glorious day
Then the saints and apostles all vanished away.
Remounted their windows, in pose and in colour
All looking respectfully one to another.

I wondered: “If God sees our hearts and our spite
And one day will repay each wrong and each right
Why does He delay for so long?” Then there came
A whisper, from somewhere, begun with my name -
“Oh – God will repay every wrong, every right!
He comes without warning: a thief in the night!”

Demon:

“Another baby born!

Just an ‘ordinary’ human baby: born into the world in the usual way. Nothing extraordinary about that.

Nothing extraordinary either in the fact that this baby wasn’t sacrificed as a blood-offering to the modern-day Molech of personal convenience and female reproductive rights. Sheer good luck – that’s all.

Nothing extraordinary about birth itself: evolution is a wonderful thing, having turned the slime about our feet over several billion years into fascinating, random collections of bio-molecules that have somehow developed intelligence and self-awareness. But this was inevitable – definitely not miraculous – all written indelibly into the DNA and the spontaneous natural processes that exist whenever random combinations of chemical soups form by chance.

What uncouth barbarians once intuitively called ‘Fate’ the more educated races now call ‘inevitable biological evolution’: but it’s all one.”

Angel:

“Another baby born!

Another miraculous, unique representation of the infinite God – who Himself became incarnate – again impressed into mortal flesh.

Another creation ex nihilo out of the overflow of the Fountain of Life itself: another personal being who – like God – will now continue to live forever. Another person bearing the image of God given the opportunity to respond to the Good News: and fill up the places vacated in heaven by the expulsion and fall of Satan’s legions.

For where sin abounds, Grace abounds but more abundantly: despite all the thousand-and-one attempts to circumvent, distort, and repress the truth: which alone can set men free.

The event is certain: God has already written the names of the saved in His Book of Life before the world was founded. But we angels are barred from reading this book, and must await the event: which is why our entire attention is focussed upon earth – upon the battleground for the souls of men.”

Brarg farms his property by himself in the midst of the wilds. Passionately hating all evil creatures, he summons his companions when he discovers that a large goblin raiding-party has entered the nearby woods: intending to hunt them down and destroy them for good….

Listen!

Bruin sniffing, tasting night-air.
Seeking, seeking, never speaking.
Loping through the forest hunting -
Foes beware!

Bear feet stepping over old ground.
Stalking, stalking, onward walking.
Fording rivers, climbing hillocks,
Moving round.

Bear eyes looking further, out wide.
Sighting, sighting, quickly lighting.
From the hills they look afar
O’er countryside.

Bear claws – daggers danger scorning.
Tearing, tearing, grimly daring.
Rip and crush and break and tear -
Foes take warning.

Listen!