Ben and the Pocket Adventures.

[Keanumoreira]

(Revised; credit goes to Iv000, my editor, for his contributions).


A poetic narrative inspired by Washington Irving's Rip Van Winkle, and Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales...



Ben and the Pocket Adventures





Prologue:



Where the land was flushed with white,
Seized by winter's wrathful fright;
The air so bitter, the wind a'howl--
Darkness loomed with things most foul.


Here there thrived a damning despair,
Where the tears of souls that thickened the air--
Washed over the knolls, so sad and grey,
Where youthful spirits frolicked and played.


Trees that reached with futile cause;
Up, their frozen fingers paused.
In the wind they twiddled and prayed;
And snapped like sinews--cast away.


Bubbly bluish, milky ponds,
Now of sorrowful children songs--
Frozen over, stagnant and dead;
Still were the puddles where tears were bled--


With roses as red as passion so young,
Bounded by songs that love had spun--
Beneath the shade where the sun was hot--
Held as one would a Forget-me-not.


Alas, the season took away--
Like the fleeting light of day--
All these things that one had earned,
When the sun no longer burned.


This life of sundry, merry and strong;
Twisted and addled--abused and wronged.
Tortured souls, they called this home;
Behold the dreary land of Drome!


It's people knew a brighter life,
One less plagued by fear and strife.
As time went on and changed the stage,
However, soon, there came a change.


With the arrival of sovereignty,
There came the storm of poverty.
Covering the land like a dreadful veil;
It fed on its people and turned them pale.


Life lost meaning and even worth;
Many left to roam this earth.
Seeking that which was amiss;
Again to feel sweet summer's kiss.


And who was to blame for such perdition--
Worthy of damning inquisition--
Than he who wielded the crown of sin,
Declaring himself the king of men.

That man of whom would turn a crowd,
That clamored together with bellies aloud--
Night and day they would plead for food--
Only a morsel if he was in the mood.


Bulbous legs to waddle about;
Swollen ankles diseased with gout.
Seizing thighs and a swelling gut;
No wonder he always sat on his butt.


And when he did he'd draw up those laws,
Of which bereft him of mortal flaws.
Fair, I suppose, as a crown gives birth,
To a madman's objection of the layman's worth.


Eyes of dread and grimly glare--
Oh how the king was kind and fair.
You need only to ask his beloved queen;
What a shame that she went to the guillotine!


For only one within his hall,
Was worthy of the power to rule them all.
As for her body, well let's just say,
That those poor people got their way!


--


Beside the tempest, towering sea,
Amongst the shores of ty-ra-nny;
Where the sea-spray spat and swelled;
There a ty-rant did-doth-dwell.


Known to the people as Ma-ken-ze-vell keep,
With cliff walls high and drop offs steep;
Raven clouds and mucky sands;
Scattered troves of skeleton hands--


Peeping up to a sickened sky,
Pierced where brooding birds don't fly--
By that tall and daunting mass;
It's glaring walls of ebony glass--


Like a mirror in the dark,
When the moonlight makes its mark;
Like the flicker to a lamp;
Befell by terrors cold and damp--


Lunging over the perilous deep,
Dangled like a spider sleeps;
Bundled and held by but a thread;
Spinning its silk of toil and dread.


And beyond such doors you dare not wake,
That hell-bound baron for goodness sake.
For if you did, let hell surge through,
And may that man have mercy on you.


But at times you'd find him gone;
Perhaps to the waters of Acheron.
For all the pampered and stately swine,
Judge Tar-ta-rus as most unkind.


Alas, however, this isn't so;
Beyond this earth he'll never know.
Instead he flaunts it by the bottle--
Making a fool of Aristotle.


Rambling, shouting, so forth and on,
Mocking such men from dusk to dawn.
Raging, cursing, slave to his gin--
Wandering roads no man has been.


But what king a-live would allow his castle,
To be left alone with peasant and vassal?
Such an act would risk "disgrace",
If no one was able to take his place.


Serving as regent and royal jester--
The one they knew with the name of Chester--
Was that Fool who met the boy;
The one who gave him life and joy.


But unlike most tricksters that he heralded;
This one lacked in his apparel.
Where most were motley in his day;
His was dull and faded grey--

Patched by needle and sown with straw;
Holes with skin both bare and raw--
Estranged by threads--pulled and teared;
Ripped from seams like no one cared.


His eyes were sunken and grey of a kind;
Indeed for the man was among the blind.
Strained by work and woe was he;
Without his con-vi-vi-al-ity.


But no objection would be heard;
He was not allowed to speak a word.
For the ty-rant he would tease and mock;
And never again would he ever talk.


No wonder the Japer had left no grin;
For glee had left this harlequin.
Pity and awe on a heart so droll;
Never so ill has there been such a soul.


--


Although this boy he could not call;
Blind, he led him down that hall.
Right to that monster, there and then;
That small brave youth; that boy named Ben.

 

 

The Pocket Guide:

 

1. Acheron: One of the five rivers of the Underworld, according to Greek mythology. This river was that of pain.

2. Tartarus: A cold and dreary realm that exists beneath the Underworld.

Edited September 27, 2013 by Keanumoreira

[AurianaValoria1]

Wonderful work, Keanu! Reads like a novel. :thumbsup:

[Brittn]

Love it! Cant wait till the rest comes out! ^^

[Keanumoreira]

Wonderful work, Keanu! Reads like a novel. :thumbsup:

 

 

Erm, I'm not sure if it reads like a novel. Now that I got over it, there are parts that, IDK...seemed unfinished. Or maybe I'm just being modest, lol. Yeah, probably. A prologue is suppose to leave more questions than answers. Thanks Auriana. :)

 

 

Brittn: That'll be awhile, trust me. ;D But thank you. :)

[Ithildin]

Brilliant beginning - I'm hooked already, and eager to read your next installment. :happy:

[Keanumoreira]

Thank you Ithildin. :)

[Keanumoreira]

Alright, the new and revised version is officially up. Due to the weeks of writing and editing it took to comprise the prologue, the next entry should be posted around anywhere between one and two months. Hope you guys enjoy, and feedback is always welcome! :happy:

[VesemirTheWitcher]

great. i'm hooked. go on and write moar, i need moar... i need moar of this... I NEED MOAR DAMMIT

:thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup: nah seriously, nice work.

[vvk78]

Fantastic piece of lyrical narrative work, Keanu!

[Iv000]

Like I already said I loved reading it, it was very enjoyable and fluid and it got me hooked very early on. I hope I'll get to read more soon. :biggrin: