meddlesome priest
this no one
of me
a dispute, king and bishop
former friends, former brothers,
now regality with a creaking, cold, hard throne,
the other, popery, a grand cathedral,
confidence, regret, acceptance of the end
four knights,
intermittent, erratic,
once not, now here, later not again,
passage,
weeping land beneath,
the four,
the they,
in Salisbury then but now not,
in Canterbury not then but now,
they they they they
anger rage ignorance
the bishop
tranquil
descent,
weapons murderous,
desperation, opportunity, four
contretemps, forbearance, one
they they
bishop
they they
measured strikes,
a godly crown,
gold, the clink on stone,
swords swiftly, bloodily,
wounds, crimson drawings
on a dying body,
a mortal crown,
flesh, the squelch on boots,
th(bi)ey th(p)ey
fate
th(o)ey th(sh)ey
the deed, finality
they they
body
they they
the bishop, constant
memories
they they
they they
the knights, infamy
dust once, flesh then, dust again
they they
they they
the king, lamentations
history
ey th
Don’t tell Mr Barthes
As a teenager who was both a tragic history and English nerd, I always had to take a moment to remember which one was which: Thomas Becket and Samuel Beckett. Reflecting on this last year, led me to writing this poem - combining the two.
The murder of Thomas Becket is told through poetry that seeks to steal something from Samuel Beckett’s works, most notably Quad. The sense of movement is critical to the poem. This importance is only increased further by the fact that the poem has no vowels. There are no actions in this poem. Only people. The weight of history has robbed them of all agency, players in a play.