The Goodly Fere

by Ezra Pound*
(Fere = mate, companion)

Simon Zelotes speaking after the Crucifixion.

HA’ we lost the goodliest fere o’ all
For the priests and the gallows tree?
Aye lover he was of brawny men,
O’ ships and the open sea.

When they came wi’ a host to take Our Man
His smile was good to see,
“First let these go!” quo’ our Goodly Fere,
“Or I’ll see ye damned,” says he.

Aye he sent us out through the crossed high spears
And the scorn of his laugh rang free,
“Why took ye not me when I walked about
Alone in the town?” says he.

Oh we drank his “Hale” in the good red wine
When we last made company.
No capon priest was the Goodly Fere,
But a man o’ men was he.

I ha’ seen him drive a hundred men
Wi’ a bundle o’ cords swung free,
That they took the high and holy house
For their pawn and treasury.

They’ll no’ get him a’ in a book, I think,
Though they write it cunningly;
No mouse of the scrolls was the Goodly Fere
But aye loved the open sea.

If they think they ha’ snared our Goodly Fere
They are fools to the last degree.
“I’ll go to the feast,” quo’ our Goodly Fere,
“Though I go to the gallows tree.”

“Ye ha’ seen me heal the lame and blind,
And wake the dead,” says he.
“Ye shall see one thing to master all:
’Tis how a brave man dies on the tree.”

A son of God was the Goodly Fere
That bade us his brothers be.
I ha’ seen him cow a thousand men.
I have seen him upon the tree.

He cried no cry when they drave the nails
And the blood gushed hot and free.
The hounds of the crimson sky gave tongue,
But never a cry cried he.

I ha’ seen him cow a thousand men
On the hills o’ Galilee.
They whined as he walked out calm between,
Wi’ his eyes like the gray o’ the sea.

Like the sea that brooks no voyaging,
With the winds unleashed and free,
Like the sea that he cowed at Genseret
Wi’ twey words spoke suddently.

A master of men was the Goodly Fere,
A mate of the wind and sea.
If they think they ha’ slain our Goodly Fere
They are fools eternally.

I ha’ seen him eat o’ the honey-comb
Sin’ they nailed him to the tree.

*Note from the blogger:
I know Ezra Pound did not lead an exemplary life in many respects, but I cannot help but be moved by this depiction of Jesus and His “power under control” at the crucifixion. 


You Are My Coffee Shop


a modern Psalm—to be read with a good cup of coffee

You are my coffee shop,
A haven of delight in a crazy, noisy world.
You are the soft lights that welcome me,
You are straight, graceful lines and rich, dark wood.
You are the easy chair that embraces me,
You cushion my back and invite me to sink in, to rest.
I inhale deeply, wearily—
Your aroma permeates the air.

selah (take a sip of coffee)

I reach for You, You warm my hands.
My eyes feast on Your lush loveliness.
I lean in closer, longing.
My face flushes with the heat of Your nearness.
I can resist You no longer, I must be one with You,
Have You in me, filling me.
You burst over my senses—
Sweet and bitter, sharp and smooth,
rich and deep and ever so satisfying.
You captivate me completely,
Body, mind, and soul engaged in experiencing You.

selah (take a sip of coffee)

I drink long. I drink deeply.
My thirst increases and I know I’ll never get enough.
Even so, You are too much for me. You overpower me.
Kindly You pour Yourself out in cup-size portions,
or I would be undone.

selah (take a sip of coffee)

Fondly I linger—
Your taste on my lips, Your warmth in my belly.
Your life courses through my veins.
I will carry You with me out into the chaos,
Which I could not face without You.
But rest assured, I will soon return to this sacred ground
To drink of You once again.
For You are my portion and my cup,
My coffee shop in this troubled world.