Sonnet for Bottom

tinyurl.com/sonnetbottom

[Originally posted in 2021 via Disqus to The Hill, which dropped Disqus in December 2025.]

Gaius Claudius Glaber (Putin’s Favorite Bottom), having earlier declared, “Human beings live by lies. The question is which lies to unleash upon these dumb brutes?” and “the only way to Truth is through our divine sense of intuition.” — then said: “… you sanctimoniously lecturing me on Truth is like a dumb high school student or some ditz, circa 1610, lecturing Shakespeare on the intricacies of the iambic pentameter. … I have asked you this question before: are there any lies that you question? that you don’t believe in?”

My reply:

Un Sonnet Pour l’Âne   (One Tale No Puns Run)

Proclaiming yet again that all are Gulls —
Unlike himself, of course, supreme, alone —
This 🐴Bᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ, fed by base and dark impulse,
Insists the truth I told remains unshown;
Nay-says I’d metrify à la Shakespeare.
So let’s be clear: ——————————

First, *truth* (plain fact) is not the “Truth” you Capped —
A hint of Plato’s Ideal Realm set loose,
Voilà! Philosopher-Kings’ realms attrapped!
Oh, see the fallacy come into use:
Rome falls, kings rise, and then dictatorships;
In each the praising ideologists.
“Truth” serves the State’s and Party’s upmanships,
Excused from ties to *truth* of scientists.
Because of famine — called Golodomór —
One census got destroyed, with counters’ layer;
Their numbers told too *much* truth of afore…
The Iron Maiden “Truth” — no life can bear.
One lie, you asked example, I eschew?
Most surely, now I’ve answered, you can rue.

[This 14-line sonnet, and its 6-line prologue, together form a double-acrostic verse. On the left edge, all the first letters of the first words of each line, read downwards, form one name. On the right, all the first letters of the last words of each line, read downwards, form another name. Oddly, they refer to the same person.]

— Raven, 12 Dec. 2021

Honour (a poem)

Honour’s of the human heart —
A soft and fleshy mortal part,
Not hard-encased in gems and gold,
Immortal splendour, dead and cold.

Honour knows that others live,
Work and struggle, care and give;
Keeping faultless faith with these
Is honour’s way to feel at peace.

Honour scorns the bully’s path,
Easy anger, causeless wrath,
Trampling on the poor or weak;
Instead it’s honour’s help they seek.

Find a man who “honour” claimed,
But deeds done in the struggle shamed,
’Haps for power, ’haps for fame —
Doubt the claimant and the claim.

— 21 Nov. 2012

© 2012 by C. M. Joserlin, “Raven”

[The Suno AI has composed and performed a tune for this song:]

Growley

tinyurl.com/growley1

Growley is a predator, a prowler, a sneak:
He’ll nip you in the hand or neck, just to hear you shriek;
He’ll claw you as he runs away, just for better speed —
Not in fear or self-defense, he never has that need.

Growley has a wide-eyed thirst or yen for ev’rything.
D’you miss a dangle-y, a piece with cords or string?
Then listen for the crunching, or tearing, as he chews
What used to be your object, past hope of further use.

Growley is a climber and a jumper, never doubt;
So please take care what fragile table items get left out.
And mind that door! Unless you wanted games of run-and-catch;
Here’s a lad who seeks the other side of ev’ry hatch!

But...

Growley is a cuddler, a lover, and a flirt:
He’ll pace your chest at midnight, to nestle on your shirt;
He’ll roll onto his back to let you rub his belly, fain —
And then the purring two-year-old will bite your hand again!

© 2025 by C. M. Joserlin, “Raven”

[The Suno AI has composed and performed a tune for this song:]

The Ultimate Earworm

tinyurl.com/ultimate-earworm

[Inspired by Fritz Leiber's 1958 short story, "Rump-Titty-Titty-Tum-TAH-Tee".]

Northshield Bardic College Charter

tinyurl.com/nbccharter

The Northshield Bardic College was originally chartered in 1994 by the Middle Kingdom, to which Northshield then belonged. Once Northshield became a separate kingdom in 2004, for it to reissue the charter would be fitting; but this meant rewriting the verses with the date and place and issuing monarchs' names. Cerian Cantwr, the Chief Bard (Speaker) for that year, kindly invited me to revise my original:

In this the birth year of Our Realm
Of Northshield, which We proudly helm,
We King Siegfried, and Bridei Our Queen,
Greet all by whom these words are seen.

Witting full well the worth of arts
That move and mellow all mortal hearts,
And holding among these in high regard
The ancient and honoured craft of the Bard,

We confirm the words set down afar
By the Midrealm’s Catherine and Jafar,
That chartered the Northshield Bardic College
To take and teach this worthy knowledge.

Not only Bards but all deserve
To practice arts, and thus preserve
And pass them to posterity.
For this We grant authority

To foster Bardic Arts events
And bear its badge without hindrance
Its own officials to select
And all its members to protect.

Thus no other may demand
Punishment for verse ill-scanned
For meter mangled, rhymes mislaid
Or satires at the mighty made.

Members shall be answerable,
For such actions liable,
To the College of Bards alone;
The College answers to the Throne.

That skill in crafting all may seek,
Without ambition for a clique,
Be students ’rolled, and teachers named,
But let no other rank be claimed.

Though “Master” and “Prentice” some may use,
Only between a pair who choose
In apprenticeship to teach and learn,
No rank’s conveyed by either term.

We charge the members let no fools
Administer the College rules,
But name a Council made of four
Whose terms shall last two years, no more.

Let them in turn appoint a Chief
Whose vote in ties provides relief;
Who shall for one year be their voice
In public, at the Council’s choice.

Let all who seek to be a Bard
Beware, the duty can be hard —
To sing the praiseworthy to fame
And give the blameworthy their blame.

A poet’s justice must you give,
And by the ancient creed must live:
“Y Gwir yn erbyn y Byd”, which says:
“The Truth Against the World” — always.

Let all give heed, and hence remember!
Done this fourth day of December
In the thirty-eighth year of the Society
At Our Court in Caer Anterth Barony.

[The Suno AI has composed and performed a tune for the original 1994 charter.]

[The Suno AI has also composed and performed a new tune for this 2004 charter:]

Courtesy at the Feast

tinyurl.com/courtesyfeast

The harper’s lovely, that I’ll say;
I wish I could have heard her play.

Good gentles, nobles, worthies all,
We've gathered here within this hall
To feast, and talk, and — one more thing:
To hear the entertainers sing,
The harpers harp, the bards recite,
The minstrels play into the night.
But there are those who talk and chatter
As if performers didn’t matter.

Think how it feels to pour your heart
Into your craft, rehearse your art,
Perform at feast before the crowd,
Then find the talking was so loud
That no-one heard; and those who would
Enjoy the music if they could
Were cheated too, denied the chance
To hear the song or rhyme or dance.

A talk delayed can still go on,
But when the act is done — it’s gone.

Now, no-one asks (not I, at least)
That silence reign throughout the feast;
And no-one orders or implores you
To listen to an act that bores you.
We’ll bear no grudges, shed no tears,
If you put hands upon your ears
’Til act is done – and then resume
Your talk, ’til talking fills the room.

But while the act is not yet done,
I beg you, silence, every one.
This kindness show, and you will be
Renowned for knightly courtesy —
Which, after all, is why we’re here,
Reclaiming gracious yesteryear.

I’ll make my toast with one more word:
To entertainers that we heard.

— C. M. Joserlin (“Raven”), 30 April 1994
[placed into the public domain, for the sake of such events] *

"Jubal Harshaw also pointed out to me a symptom that, so he says, invariably precedes the collapse of a culture: a decline in good manners, in common courtesy, in a decent respect for the rights of other people."
— Robert A. Heinlein, To Sail Beyond the Sunset

[The Suno AI has composed and performed a tune for this song:]

A note on the contralto computer voice singing: I named it "Eleanor" in tribute to Eleanor of Acquitaine, Henry II's Queen and Richard Lionheart's mother, remembered as a patron of troubadours, and now a feminist icon. She spoke no English, but then many S.C.A. personae could not have, in period, true?

* [The very existence and purpose of this song appears oddly confusing to some. Local feast organizers and attendees — even aside from the entertainers themselves — had noticed a decrease in the previously standard courtesy of stopping conversations to hear performances, and discussed how to restore it. The above verse was my proposal. Local feast organizers were enthusiastic, printed it up in nice-looking tiny scrolls rolled up tied in tiny pretty ribbons, and set a copy at each diner's place. Conditions improved. To share the solution with any who might share the problem, I posted the lyrics on rec.org.sca, including the date and context. Would you believe that S.C.A. members from across the country complained that the piece was a personal accusation addressed specifically at them? AND that the REAL problem was entertainment occurring during the feast ("attack bards"), which feast organizers appeared curiously unwilling or unable to curtail — even with knights at hand? (Our site usually found that a "no thank you" sufficed. There were also little stand-up wire-mounted flags if you wanted them.) Yet this piece's first two lines set the original context: a performance some wanted to hear, yet could not, due to noisy conversation. Something has to give. Courtesy is respect and consideration for others; if not the entertainers or the organizers who are providing the feast, then at least your fellow diners who have also paid for it. Or does no-one else matter at all?]

Short Verses

tinyurl.com/short-verses

Song at Parting

Why does sorrow burrow at the hollow of our heart
When we know each “Merry Meet“ is followed by a “Merry Part“?
Should not joy as deeply dwell when we think ahead to when
Every “Merry Part“ is followed by a “Merry Meet Again“?

[composed upon leaving the Boar's Head Feast of Caer Anterth, December 4, 2004.
intended for singing at that night's Bardic Post-Revel, which, alas, I could not attend.]

© 2004 C. M. Joserlin, “Raven“

[The Suno AI has also composed and performed a tune for this song:]

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Faith

Bend with life, don’t fossilize;
rigid vision blinds the eyes;
faith — unchanging — petrifies;
frozen truths turn into lies;
even God, imprisoned, dies.

© 1984 C. M. Joserlin, “Raven”

[The Suno AI has also composed and performed a tune for this song:]

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Why do hopes to help mankind
                                       end as guns at human heads?

                                 Iron Maiden

See the trap, before it shuts,
                                       of seeming starry-eyed ideals;
This coldly abstract caring cuts
                                   the flesh its kindly case conceals.
Philosophy’s a hurtful suit,
                             too hard and sharp for human needs;
Beneath the blade of Absolute,
                                 the mortal body breaks and bleeds.

                   — C. M. Joserlin, “Raven”.

[The Suno AI has also composed and performed a tune for this song:]

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From Crooked Timber: “Faking da funk and faking the physics”

Raven 10.15.06 at 9:00 pm                                                                             115

“... you seem to be getting dangerously close here to an argument which would imply that non-physicists don’t really understand what an apple is....”
— Daniel in #62.

The apple falls; but particle or wave?
To grasp and taste might seem the way to tell,
Yet Heisenberg gives us a warning grave:
We’d just obscure where or how fast it fell;
And, harder news, to watch also does that.
We who can’t touch, nor see, must speculate.
Thus it partakes, with Ernst’s endangered cat,
Of plural, mixed, or undetermined state.
In many worlds, perhaps all needs are met,
One apple falls to all our waiting hands;
But in this world, the much more likely bet
Is falling once. We wait for where it lands.
At last it hits upon diffraction’s cause —
But what comes through the grate is merely sauce.

(C.M. Joserlin, 15 Oct. 2006. Thanks, Daniel!)

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