{"id":4888,"date":"2013-07-16T09:00:58","date_gmt":"2013-07-16T09:00:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=4888"},"modified":"2013-07-04T19:49:48","modified_gmt":"2013-07-04T19:49:48","slug":"peter-cowlam","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/peter-cowlam\/","title":{"rendered":"Peter Cowlam"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>A Failed Coup<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Now, I predict, that not-so-secret citizen will reflect<\/p>\n<p>On a catalogue of failure, ending a history of outrage<\/p>\n<p>Against the state. Papers you have passed me<\/p>\n<p>Reveal his alarmingly low scores in all<\/p>\n<p>But the most rudimentary civil service<\/p>\n<p>Tests \u2013 perhaps the true explanation of his exile.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s as well he\u2019s confessed \u2013 under torture<\/p>\n<p>As that may be \u2013 though the transcript<\/p>\n<p>I am now scrutinising does not agree in much detail<\/p>\n<p>With the testaments of those he proselytised.<\/p>\n<p>They describe a man maddened by the moon,<\/p>\n<p>And lost to the wild pursuit of feral heroes.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>A last gleam of sunshine touched the city\u2019s pinnacles,<\/p>\n<p>He striking out across expatriate turf, a man<\/p>\n<p>Bound to the solemn truths of muted tongues,<\/p>\n<p>And minded to confide his tarnished revelation<\/p>\n<p>In the brigandage he gathered to him \u2013 a band<\/p>\n<p>Of delinquents, girding up in the glow of a hillside fire.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Comic, I know, but here are his sayings, for endless<\/p>\n<p>Repetition and a call to our youth. \u2018All lies<\/p>\n<p>Are a giftwrap round the truth.\u2019 \u2018Time is just a pulse<\/p>\n<p>Embodied by the flesh.\u2019 \u2018Friendships are as fallen leaves<\/p>\n<p>Floating in a stream.\u2019 And this. \u2018Pale are the days<\/p>\n<p>Of empire, lingering on in sentimental minds.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>I found him at last. That, surprisingly,<\/p>\n<p>Wasn\u2019t in that bivouac discovered by my men,<\/p>\n<p>The place betrayed by its distant bloom of smoke, a pall<\/p>\n<p>Bluish and pendent over rain-wet foliage. Nor was he<\/p>\n<p>A-crest the cold floodwaters of autumn, where the dusk<\/p>\n<p>Of the old country is yellow and pervasive,<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>And cries of animal desire resound in endless echoes.<\/p>\n<p>The sordid truth was simpler than that, when two<\/p>\n<p>Of my smart officers entered a peasant tavern,<\/p>\n<p>And there saw him \u2013 slightly withered \u2013 propped<\/p>\n<p>Against a dampish wall, an orange moon ascendant<\/p>\n<p>Through the upper panes of its small window or quadrature.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>More wisdom did he spout, in a kind of drunken<\/p>\n<p>Zeal, but offered himself peaceably. \u2018True camaraderie,\u2019<\/p>\n<p>He said, \u2018has its roots a long way down, all over<\/p>\n<p>The underground,\u2019 a sentiment supposed to make me<\/p>\n<p>Quake. Well \u2013 a welcome, my rebel friend.<\/p>\n<p>Tomorrow the firing squad, at dawn.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Peter Cowlam<\/strong> is a writer and critic. Publications include the novella <em>Marisa,<\/em> available at <a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.co.uk\/dp\/1902086031\/ref=nosim?tag=inswte0f-21\" target=\"_blank\">Amazon <\/a>and poems in various litmags, most recently <em>The Liberal, Turbulence<\/em> and <em>Epicentre Magazine<\/em>. He is a founder member of the writers\u2019 collective <a href=\"http:\/\/www.centrehousepress.co.uk\/\" target=\"_blank\">CentreHouse Press <\/a>, publishing memoirs, plays and novels.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; A Failed Coup &nbsp; Now, I predict, that not-so-secret citizen will reflect On a catalogue of failure, ending a history of outrage Against the state. Papers you have passed me Reveal his alarmingly low scores in all But the most rudimentary civil service Tests \u2013 perhaps the true explanation of his exile. [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4888","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4888","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4888"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4888\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4892,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4888\/revisions\/4892"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4888"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4888"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4888"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}