Korydwen and Le Scélérat Rouge

Korydwen!

Korydwen!

Truest

of Breton hearts

***

To your beauty

Even the sea

Proclaims

Unrelenting love

***

With a’heart of gold

And eyes of blue

All fawn before

Korydwen!

***

Within your humble keep

The heart of Ys

Flows from your stream

Unto the sea

***

To you they ride

To you they seek

To harvest your love,

Korydwen!

***

La Première!

La Première!

Comes

Le Chevalier

***

Donning no favor

Lance unlimbered

His heart black

as stone

***

Une Seconde!

Une Seconde!

Comes

Le Prince d'Avalon

***

A poet's tongue!

A cloak of gold!

Merlin’s match

For Korydwen

***

At last,

La Finale!

A late suitor

Comes

***

Le Scélérat

In cloak of red

Unlooked for

unacclaimed

***

“Come with me,

Korydwen!”

Le Prince

Proclaims

***

“I love you most

Your beauty unbound

Take my hand

Korydwen!”

***

Before she speaks

Before she pleads

Le Scélérat

Intercedes

***

“Harken to me

If you please

Britannia be

This fool’s necessity–

***

–To take a crown

He needs a queen

You’ll be his token

Korydwen!"

***

“And who are you

Un Scélérat?

A brigand?

A Rook?”

***

“I’ve traveled long

I’ve traveled far

My sword’s pierced

Vile hearts”

***

Korydwen!

Korydwen!

Truest

of Breton hearts

***

With her waved hand

Knew the truth’s within

Le Scélérat’s

Guarded heart

***

She would be

No talisman

So Le Prince

She bid depart

***

“I bring no favors

But I claim you

As mine

Through strength of arms"

***

Ah Korydwen

Korydwen

There’s evil

in your halls

***

Cast them out

Before you fall

Our dearest,

Korydwen

***

“Only your lands

Do I seek

goodbye,

Korydwen,”

***

Le Chevailer

Raised sword aloft

A scythe

For his crop

***

Korydwen!

Korydwen!

Oh beautiful

Korydwen!

***

Should you fall

Within your hall

Ys’ magick

Will forever depart

***

With all his strength

Le Chevalier

Cleaved her hall

Asunder

***

“I strike you down

Korydwen

For your magick

Belongs to Brittany”

***

Amongst the ruins

Amongst the flames

Korydwen's

Fait accompli

***

Mais non!

Le Chevalier toppled

A piercing arrow

Fletched in red

***

And her savior

Stood alone

Before the beauty

Korydwen

***

“Le Prince a fool

Le Chevalier a brute

Now I ask your hand

Korydwen,”

***

“Alas the favor

You seek is

Not mine to

Proffer”

***

“Ah but my ask,

My love

Is for no

Golden harps–

***

–No magick

No myths

No quests

I seek–

***

–All I ask

Korydwen

Is for your hand

In a journey overland–

***

–To Saint Anne

For the Pardon

I am meek

Forgiveness I must seek”

***

Many men courted

Many men fell

Seeking the power

Of Korydwen’s hold

***

But in the heart

Of Le Scélérat

She sensed

A power true

***

So his hand

She took

For the Pardon

Of Saint Anne

***

They traveled long

They traveled far

Over barrowed hills

And far flung fields

***

Until below the stars

“Karout a ran

ac'hanout

Korydwen”

***

The words of old

Breton lore

Flowed through

Her mortal soul

***

And below the moon

Upon her home

To Le Scélérat

She gave her heart

***

She awoke

With the sun

To golden field

Of guardian stones

***

Came a gale

Its perfume wrong

And a fear

Struck Korydwen

***

In the brook

Beside their camp

Her reflection

A heart aghast

***

Korydwen!

Your hair runs gray

Your eyes decay

While fair body crumbles away

***

Oh Breton gods

Korydwen!

What have you done?

Le Scélérat betrays

***

“Le Prince is gone,

Le Chevailer unmade

All Ys’s Magick

I have gleaned–

***

–Name me Mordred

Oh Korydwen

Understand

My foul betrayal–

***

–With Ys’s yield

I usher forth

Arthur’s fall

In Avalon–

***

–Across the sea

I will depart

Off to victory

Wielding your heart”

***

Under the stars

Within her heart

Within her soul

Mordred cursed her everso

***

Pulled from her keep

Pulled from her stream

No hero of old

Saved Korydwen

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Now that you've made it through a 600 word poem, you have to listen to a discourse on my creative process. I felt the best way to go about this prompt was to work backwards from the end result, the poem above, as I think it is a representative example of how I go about any creation.

It all starts, not with with the myth as one may expect, from a song, in this case an obscure (at least on this side of the Atlantic) Breton folk band from the 70s:

This initial vocal riff formed the cadence of the poem, and is not the first time I've used their sound as inspiration (example HERE).

The song itself is a folk story of Korydwen, a translation of the Celtic goddess/enchantress Ceridwen, and her betrayal. I then dove into my second well of inspiration, Classic Arthurian myth, to round out our characters.

But I wanted to keep the Breton myth elements intact and several found their way into the story, namely: centering Korydwen's powers not in her traditional Welsh origins, but in the distinctly French myth of Ys (not enough word space to dive into the origins of medieval myth, Lancelot was French after all), evoking the Pardon of St. Anne (a Breton pilgrimage), and having Le Scélérat swear his love in Korydwen's own Breton tongue, "Karout a ran ac'hanout Korydwen”. To me, it's important to take the time to understand, study, and appreciate the local details of the mythology, lest we let these traditions and stories disappear into focus-group and mass consumption distillated obscurity.

Finally, you might be asking why some random Chicagoan spends time writing epic poems based on Breton/Celtic/Arthurian myths. It's a simple answer...

I Fuckin' love them.

I find beauty in the myths of old that transcends generations. Seeing the Bayeux Tapestry as a wannabe author and historian was my own pilgrimage. Same with walking the walls of Canterbury. Same with standing on the Hill of Tara. I pull from my own experiences of these places whenever I need some additional details or inspiration.

There's a power in these myths that something like AI will never be able to deliver. Both Tolkien and Martin evoke scenes from the Bayeux Tapestry made nearly a century ago. Dickens and La Fanu detail sailing below Dover Castle. That is the throughline that I chase, that I believe gives art its unassailable human depth. It's that element that forces me to create an epic mythological poem when prompted to "to create an original poem whose subject is an introspective reflection on your creative process."

No cursed robot will ever be able to do that. Ever.

Write on friends. Whatever you create is worth it. It is enough for it to exist.

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A/N:

For Gabriel's awesome challenge:

If you've enjoyed this, please leave a like and an insight below. If you really enjoyed this, tips to fuel my coffee addiction are always appreciated. All formatting is designed for desktops. My best stories can be found below: