Canadian Short Stories

  Canadian Literature

  Homepage

  Michael and Renate Eisele

   www.michaeleisele.ca

E-mail: obeah@telus.net

                        King Mob

 

We threw the yoke of yesteryears

Onto a heap of stones,

And dragged the tyrants and their peers

With huzza from their thrones.

 

We tore the sceptre from their hands

With great acclaim and sneers,

We chased the despots from our lands

Amid a howl of jeers.

 

Yet barely was our freedom won

When out of every cleft,

King Mobís disciples one by one,

Came creeping right and left.

 

They took the reins, and they were bold,

Their tenets soon prevailed,

A yoke more crushing than the old

Is being blithely hailed.

 

 

 

 

Books that take the reader on a vicarious journey through the vast region of Canada; a singular country, still wild and untamed. Where the midnight sun transforms the tundra into a carpet of flaming colours in July, and calls to life unfettered voices that enliven the spirit.

He will also gain insight to the Caribbean Islands, home of smiles and guileless mirth. In Haiti, an island shrouded in mystery, where the Walking Dead once, perhaps still, cultivate the fields. Even a more arcane episode takes place in the region of Yanomamo, Venezuela, at the foot of the Orinoco River, where Indians live like in ancient times.

The wilderness of Canada, always close to the authorís heart, possessing a magic of its own, is prominently depicted.

Say what you want,

But woe to you,

If what you say is true.

 

The notion of democracy

Resembles Sodomís apples.

On the surface crisp and alluring,

Inside all ashes.

 

Ignorance is like a running sore.

Hated, yet petted even more.

 

Remorse has two sides.

One is worm-eaten,

The other full of mites.

 

 

He who struggles with emotions

Lacks the strength for deeds.

 

Pretty is the world if seen

Through eyes of contentment.

Even prettier when seen

Through eyes of joy.

 

Here is a riddle of a perplexing sort.

Has the master created the servant,

Or did the servant create the lord.

 

Marriage and age

Tame beast and man

 

I prefer hay to gold

The donkey says.