Chaver and Urumi

Chaver:

Devoted to Death, the Chaver lives on
Vendetta, not health, keeps him duty bound
The word ‘amok’ is his by right.

Running

Cutting, slashing, slaying to keep his oath
To a dead corpse, whom he failed to protect
His suzerain’s murder must be avenged
Mother says, ‘Goodbye, die on Honour’s bed’
Devoted to Death, oathbound to die for revenge
The Chaver must dance with urumi, sword and spear
For the dead lord he swore to forever protect.

Urumi:

Thousand years of war, two hundred of peace
Gone are the ancient arts of dancing steel
But the blood still boils for battle; (they) join the Air Force
Wielding their new sword whip from inside a cockpit
Becoming one with the weapon. Spinning faster, stronger, higher.

Note: the word ‘amok’ is literally derived from one of the Chaver’s titles… unless they stole it from the Malaysians more than a thousand years ago. One particularly notorious vendetta went on for eight hundred years. The suicide squads were sent to fight the enemy king every eight years at a festival. They turned it into a grand show of violence, which was very well organised. It brought lots of tourists. I’ve written a poem about it, called Mamankam. Those were bloody times, the thousand years after Cheranadu was annihilated… Near constant state of warfare. The Kerala kingdoms’ administrative structures revolved around war, which is pretty weird and interesting to study. Also interesting are the shrinking demographics of the warrior clans, until duelling was banned.

Last Stand

Muscles ache, eyes weary, the war was lost, we run, we flee
A hay bed beckons my head in a stable, horses neigh
Sleep at last, my eyes close, glimpsing nightmares, my memories
My parents’ unavenged murder, and friends I was forced to slay

My companions wake me, we’re being chased,
They point to the next hill, at a torch trail
A fiery snake
A thousand riders
To catch five survivors
We who survived the fire lake

We split up to confuse the trail
Riding as fast as we dare
Without light, without bronze (and) mail
Fear fills me everywhere

Our pursuers do not split,
They chase after me with unity
My fear then transforms
Anger feeds my storm

My horse topples down and I wait for the enemy
One against a thousand, the odds are against me
An owl screams from the trees, “Noo Noo, easy peasy”
I chose my spot, and wait with moon sword and sun shield
As dawn breaks I kill the last man while he tries to yield.

Last Stand Music:

[Poem] Angel of the Battlefield, Antietam (Bloodiest day of the American Civil War)

Antietam/ Sharpsburg, where hallowed ground plaques abound

Sleepy old towns, living atop cemeteries

Let September Seventeenth, Eighteen Sixty Two resound!

Come Ferry down one of History’s estuaries

Union Johnny Raw waits near Dunker’s Church in fear

He knows old Stonewall and Robert E Lee are near

McClellan be a blind fool but he’s got ‘Lost Order’

And the boys at Harpers are buying them some lost time.

“Maryland, my Maryland,” he thinks he can hear (Confederates draw nearer).

In beat, the Potomac gently humming in rhyme

Over twenty thousand men dead, wounded or missing

After only a few hours of the clock ticking

Aftermath is devastation, yes… but also proclamation of emancipation

Non-intervention of other ‘great’ nations. A medical barrage:

The birth of the Angel of the Battlefield, the Red Cross and critical triage.

“I was lying on my back, supported on my elbows, watching the shells explode overhead and speculating as to how long I could hold up my finger before it would be shot off, for the very air seemed full of bullets, when the order to get up was given, I turned over quickly to look at Col. Kimball, who had given the order, thinking he had become suddenly insane.”

Lt. Matthew J. Graham, Company H, 9th New York Volunteers

“Comrades with wounds of all conceivable shapes were brought in and placed side by side as thick as they could lay, and the bloody work of amputation commenced.”

Union soldier George Allen