Fisher King

by James McLaughlin

Somewhat bald but tall and strong of limb
Dolorous stroked – not like his brother who burned
upon a brier over whose body vespers
for the dead were solemnly sung the waste land
Godefer brother of the king who’s death
plunged the land into wilderness and decay
our Roi Pescher was the father fisher of men
like Manu washing his hands in the water
this is Jhasa the greatest of all fish that
when it was fully grown would save him
from the universal deluge like the
fisherman who draws the fish from the ocean
of Samara to the light of salvation no
chthonic cult but fish and a cup like
Joseph who prays for aid and council
from the grail – a voice from heaven bids
him send his brother in law Brons
to catch a fish. Meanwhile he, Joseph,
is to prepare a table, set the Grail,
covered with a cloth, in the centre
opposite his own seat, and the fish
which Brons shall catch, on the other side.
He does this, and the seats are filled
“Si s’i asieent une grant partie et plus i ot
 de cels qui n’i sistrent mie, que de cels qui sistrent.”
Those who are seated at the table are conscious of a great
 ”douceur,” and “l’accomplissement de lor cuers,”
the rest feel nothing….
 

of immemorial antiquity a life symbol a fish
it always went ahead however faith
and set before me as food a fish
from a fountain, a huge one, a clean one
which a holy virgin had caught.
The Fisher King is mystery the heart
ensuring fruitfulness set down in prehistoric tablets
a being semi-devine, semi-human standing
between his people and the land unseen

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~ This piece was posted on Tuesday, March 18th, 2008 and was filed under Poetry, Writing. You can make comments on it below. ~