lördag 1 november 2014

Nordic Sphinx (poem)

Here's a poem by me, Svensson. It's about "northernness", a term coined by C. S. Lewis. And about "archeofuturism", a term coined by Guillaume Faye.

I’m a Nordic Sphinx,
looking out over the boundless hills,
seeing a bright future

for all and sundry – a future perfect,
an archaic future, a future in
purple and gold, silver and green.

The pine is ever green,
the sun casting its gold
on the mountain side,

the moon etching its silver runes
and the purple twilight –
the colours of a new era.

- - -

I’m the king of comedy,
a metal guru and an
implicit whiteness.

I’m a prophet, a poet,
a preacher, a piper,
a guru, a sphinx,

an attic fanatic and a forest creature,
an aristocrat of the soul
in a time of decay.

- - -

I’m a poet and a piper,
a prophet of Northernness
singing for the trees,

singing for the people,
singing for fun in an age
where no one seems to

be laughing any more, no one
smiles, no one feels the joy of anything.
There I come with my flute

throwing green melodies over
everyone, saying ”life can be
fun too, you know”.

- - -

The prophet has spoken,
the guru is gone, the
Northern Spinx has left

the building, left us for
the boundless hills, the
thousand-mile forest,

the moors and the swamps,
the grey-green expanses of
coniferous woods

holding a future for us all,
an old future, an archaic future:
archeo future, a future perfect.

Swedish Mystique

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