Lancelot (Based on Mists of Avalon)

1. Warrior

Weary of war and of winning, I just come home.
At home there is also war, has always been.
Always I fall in between with no clear sense
of who or what makes a difference
and so take sides
and become the warrior again.

The simple life
that, perhaps, a man has with a wife
is for me pure strife:
I am at war with myself and can only fight.

2. Doppelgaenger

As king, Arthur knew where he stood.
His mind was single.
It's with men who like me go double
that suspicion lies.
Two minds, two loyalties, two wives;
intention writhes now this way, now that,
like a snake;
in this moment kind,
in the next explosive with anger,
and, beneath all, shame;
to have failed to live up to my name,
in my shame reject
and betray those whom I most love
while despair collects.

3. Seeker

Grown men grow hungry for love,
for a mother’s love
that will nourish the child still within,
that bids us cry,
even knights in the shine of full armor;

and for the fame appropriate to our skills
that we will not shame
so long as we inhabit ourselves
and have staked no claim
beyond truth for the coin of regard;
and for the grail
that is finally the self on this earth
that we try to love
and, loving,
need not fear to fail
and no more crave war.

4. Penitent

Sweet Christ, conceived of the lilies and torn at birth,
who, bloodied, was scorned on a tree,
look now on me
also naked and covered with shame.
I have loved war,
but long since have wearied of killing;

Immortal brother,
who was also born of two minds and who learned despair,
look on me here,
fully failed in the battle of love.

Extend a hand and walk with me here
through a land no longer my home
to the mother who carried us both:
thus to Avalon.

5. Companion

You need to mount up and ride
now your mount is rested.
Do not turn aside for the bells.
You are only tested.
Do not be distracted by the dead.
You have heard their moans.
You have known
what they know of derision.
Mount up. Ride on.
You and I have walked waking in Hell.
What compares to that?

6. Wanderer

Sometimes when I'm sitting alone
I think I hear
my mother Vivian calling.
It is just as clear!
And sometimes I hear Gwenhwyfar calling,
as if sheep strayed
or a child had failed to come home.

I hear my voice
telling things I think I've been told,
but cannot remember.
My mind has become a real danger.

But why such grief?

7. Philosopher

I am still a thief of two minds
in all things thwarted,
except in the use of a sword.

It was when I bolted
that I cursed what to me was my soul
and the only tool

with which
I could carve out my name,
since I could not write.

8.  Poet

The pain and the praying are one.
Not all gods answer.

The god that I feared in myself,
that I danced my dance for,
was nothing but greedy self-hate.

Now geese are fat
and the air is beginning to chill.
One tiny feather
from the breast of a migrating swan
brings Christmas weather,
but that is no matter to me.

Fuzz flies from the dents de lions.
There is no debate.
I go where I must in absentia
and am often late.

9. Priest

Turned loose by the hand of the Goddess,
I stand in place.

Streams run in their varied abundance.
The small winds blow
or fall fast asleep in my hair.
I no longer care
the direction whence my orders come.

My assignment's clear,
my priesthood is attached to this place.
Were I to bother,
no doubt I could argue my claim.

Instead I trace the outline of a face:
it is my son's,
and also is my father's.

10. Witness

In memoriam write:
Lancelot, who always went double,
escaped the womb
and thrust his hands directly in the wounds
of those who went before.

He was never more than an actor,
and he played all parts.
In fits and starts, amounting to distress,
he learned his role,
and became the wisest of fools
and for us a witness.