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Ragnar's Song Book |
| Period Polemic | |
| A Poem by Lady Chiara da Montepulciano |
|
Ragnar's Song Book |
| Period Polemic | |
| A Poem by Lady Chiara da Montepulciano |
|
You know, there are times when we’ve nothing to do, And we’re sitting around and we’re drinking some brew, When all of a sudden and out of the blue A thought might appear that we can’t misconstrue, A thought, an idea, a whimsy, a notion About how this game, that we play with devotion, Captures our souls with uncommon commotion. And we ask ourselves, why do we fight Or fence or arch or equest Or sew or stitch or scribe or bitch Or dance or cook or research a book Or smith or strum or brew or drum? And what does it mean? This is fun? Are we lame? Prey tell me - God’s Blood, are we not insane? There are those who won’t miss even one single meeting. At every event in the Kingdom they’re keening. Yet alas here am I, as I sit here and pickle On Halfdan’s fine mead, where I’ve spent my last nickel, Dreaming of all of the things I could do In this game I’ve devoted my income to; I could fight Or fence or arch or equest Or sew or stitch or scribe or bitch Or dance or cook or research a book Or smith or strum or brew or drum. Well, me, I’m a wordwright, I fight, and I flirt. And I try to find others whom I can convert. And these are just some of my favourite things To do in this game that my revenue brings. I think I’m a bard, though some would disagree, Though I’ve written in rhyme, even versed Middle E. And last Pennsic I had a request from some clients To filk up a song from They Might Be Giants. I thought that I might try my hand at a ballad. I won’t document Childe - I’m told he’s not valid. Perhaps then a case could be made for haiku Though mid-17th isn’t period for you. So maybe I’ll just have to stick to a sonnet As long as it scans and has Shakespeare on it. Of course, I could always fight Or fence or arch or equest Or sew or stitch or scribe or bitch Or dance or cook or research a book Or smith or strum or brew or drum. I like armoured combat, though I used to fence, Live steel’s just ok when you’re opponent’s dense. You’d think that a sport with rattan would subdue The supercilious hullabaloo When sneakers and plastic and hockey gloves pass, And duct taped aluminum shields have class. They’re trying to teach me to throw shots that wrap, But I’m no Landsknecht, so what’s all the flap? If I fight with two sticks and no documentation - Attached to my helm - in Old Norse conjugation - Some folks might just sigh, and shake their heads sadly, And say, “can’t you see that whatever she does, If she fights Or fences or arches or equests Or sews or stitches or scribes or bitches Or dances or cooks or researches books Or smiths or strums or brews or drums She’ll never be period enough for us.” I’m tired of hearing that endless refrain From people who play a quite different game. Even when I show some documentation And present it well-written with no obligation, I’m told it’s not good enough, culturally speaking, From folks who are constantly status-seeking. But then, there are those who don’t care how I dress, Provided I pass the 10-foot test, Which I do, I take some pride at least in my clothes, Though I don’t adorn well, I’ve a jewel in my nose. When all’s said and done, at the end of the day, There are so many ways that we all play this game, We can fight Or fence or arch or equest Or sew or stitch or scribe or bitch Or dance or cook or research a book Or smith or strum or brew or drum. And whether we like what some others may do, There’s room for us all in this Dream we pursue. This sandbox is large, and there are lots of toys, So play nice with everyone, girls and boys. Little lords, little ladies, remember: What those three words stand for: “Society” is community and education “Creative” is how we show our imagination And though we will find more than one type of schism (Antidisestablishmentarianism Will oft raise its head like an optical prism), We are in the end, one big Anachronism. |
Thank you, Chiara da Montepulciano