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Lone Musketeer
“To be a poet in a destitute time means: to attend,
singing, to the trace of the fugitive gods. This is why
the poet in the time of the world’s night utters the
holy … Poetry is a place marker for the gods in
times of great crisis” —Carole Brooks Platt
Of all that’s left who once were four,
Lone musketeer, I am, alas;
And three have fallen: one to fear,
Two others in a deeper pass.
Such swordplay, see, as once was ours:
So subtle then our words, not crass;
We made the point, the point was clear:
The Moderns sang, danced like one ass.
But now alone, but not to cower,
Solitary at my holy mass;
Absorbing even their lost power,
To fight once more, godlike no less.
.
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James Sale has had over 50 books published, most recently, “Mapping Motivation for Top Performing Teams” (Routledge, 2021). He has been nominated by The Hong Kong Review for the 2022 Pushcart Prize for poetry, has won first prize in The Society of Classical Poets 2017 annual competition, and performed in New York in 2019. He is a regular contributor to The Epoch Times. His most recent poetry collection is “StairWell.” For more information about the author, and about his Dante project, visit https://englishcantos.home.blog. To subscribe to his brief, free and monthly poetry newsletter, contact him at [email protected]
Great poem reflecting my sentiments of the lonely unabashed poet seeking to light one candle of truth in the inky blackness of dark times. Fortunately, we have one fortress that rises above the morass and that is the Society of Classical Poets, where we can commiserate with other poets who write from their lone retreats. Such poems as yours shall endure the long night and be the beacon shining through these chaotic storms and times.
Thanks Roy and very true: the SCP is a fortress – a sort of reverse Baradur! Not the Dark Tower but the Light One!
From my Atlantic coastal bastion, I salute you, James.
Thanks Paul – bastion is a very good word, I like it.
I like the pararhyme of four/fear, and how they each have their corresponding rhyme in the next stanza. I wonder…if we wield the “subtle” rapier, are they bludgeoning with the battle ax? Or maybe mowing down everything with a machine gun.
In any case, a heroic call to defend the tradition. Like Aramis, we mourn and pray.
Cheers for pointing out the rhyming pattern, ABB – like you, I like it myself! But as for the question of how the enemy are fighting the war: you are mistaken, they are not using the battle axe to bludgeon (they’d have to get too close for that – messy), and neither are they mowing down a la WW1 with a machine gun. No, what they are doing is releasing viruses into the population, which sadly, for the peoples who inhale them, are pretty toxic. You don’t get a fair fight because you are already dead on the floor unless … unless … you have seriously, in St Paul’s words, put on the armour of God!
As the last Musketeer said, “One for one and one for one!”
Thankfully, SCP has gathered a small militia of musketeers who wield pens mightier than Dumas’ fab four’s swords.
Touche, James. We have felt the thrust of your verse and gotten the point.
“A hit! A palpable hit!”
Thanks for this James: yes, indeed. The poem whilst I hope of universal import, actually is highly particular in terms of going back to a much earlier period of my poetic career in the late 80s. And back then one of my favourite poems – and still is – is Yeats’ : Say the men of the old black tower – their money gone, their wine gone sour – lack nothing that a soldier needs: stand we on guard, for we are oath-bound men … citing from memory!
Oops – their money spend, their wine gone sour!
When I read this lovely poem, James, I think not just of the musketeers of Dumas, but of Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac — another lone fighting figure, who dies with his sword in his hand.
Thanks Joe, yes: I am so pleased that these images are springing up for you (and others) – heroism is not dead. Have you ever read Rider Haggard’s Allan Quartermain novel? The chapter “How Umslopogaas Held the Stair”? That is the sort of moment that Tolkien mimicked when he got Gandalf to face the Balrog on the Bridge at Kazadoum! Wonderful.
This poem transports me to a world of bravery, honor and camaraderie. The lone musketeer, standing tall and true, reminds us of the power of following our convictions and standing up for what we believe in. James Sale’s words paint a vivid picture of valiant determination and rallying courage, making this poem an inspiring read.
I am so pleased gk – what we want are poems to induce in us the very qualities that they are describing, and in this case to ‘rally’ our courage! BTW, gk, GK Chesterton is my favourite prose writer of the C20th!
GKS was also, of course, a real poet. One of my favourites is ‘Ultimate’:
The vision of a haloed host
That weep around an empty throne;
And, aureoles dark and angels dead,
Man with his own life stands alone.
‘I am,’ he says his bankrupt creed:
‘I am,’ and is again a clod:
The sparrow starts, the grasses stir,
For he has said the name of God.
Thanks Antony – yes, I wouldn’t want to suggest that GK Chesterton isn’t a fine poet – he is; only he is not my favourite poet of the C20th, WB Yeats is! That said, I love GKC’s The Donkey and his The Convert, especially the last line of that amazing sonnet: “Because my name is Lazarus and I live.” “Ultimate” too is pretty awesome!
This poem is a beautifully crafted tribute to the power and strength of individual perseverance. The protagonist, the “Lone Musketeer,” encapsulates the idea that one person can make a difference in the face of adversity. James Sale’s use of vivid imagery and powerful language makes the reader feel as though they are a part of the journey. The poem’s message is both uplifting and empowering, reminding us that we are never truly alone in our struggles. It serves as a reminder that we all have the potential to be heroes in our own stories. Overall, a truly inspiring and thought-provoking piece of writing.
You are right, gk: as soon as we see life as our story that we fashion and in which we are required to be the hero, the better. This point, of course, does not presuppose self-reliance: all heroes need the gods – as Arjuna needed Krishna in the chariot with him.
A wonderful poem, James. To be that lone fighter cannot be easy and yet honor and valor demand it. Like others, your work brings to mind powerful images and thoughts. I’m reminded of what is said of personal sacrifice in John: “There is no greater love than offering your life for that of your friend.” And your reference to the solitary musketeer at his holy mass (religious imagery both validated and used metaphorically) reminded of Thomas Becket when he dismisses the danger to himself and goes forth to clear-eyed martyrdom during prayers in Canterbury Cathedral.
Thanks Brian – glad that the poem spoke to you, and that the poem is generating various heroic images – Cyrano de B for Joe and Thomas a B for you. FYI, I studied a year in Canterbury and it was literally 19 miles up the road from my home town in Kent – so a very special place indeed!
James, your poem makes me want to say: One poet speaking truth is a greater force than fleets and armies. In the battle of good versus evil… good verses are mightier than the sword. Your ‘Lone Musketeer is spurring me on. James, thank you very much indeed!
Thanks Susan – it is difficult to calculate how much one word, one sentence, one person makes a difference, but faith that it does is essential; together, let’s sharpen our swords!
Oh yes! Joe said it perfectly. I see Depardieu.
“ A la fin de l’envoi, je touche!”
Thanks Daniel – I could be Depardieu, only my nose is too small!
Strength, integrity, perseverance, courage – all come to mind as I read this brave poem James. Words or deeds, good prevail…
Thank you Alice: I am so pleased these qualities were evoked for you!