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Of A Troll by *b1gfan:iconb1gfan:

Categories Literature > Poetry > General Poetry > Open


Of a Troll


No one crying out Heaven
help us, the hag is come again –
her head tucked under her arm

as hunger tears at the empty
threads of an old sack pitched
across my shoulder. No good

blood trembling as my feet crush
the unflinching moss and I step
out from choking glooms to find

my sisters have become stone
frozen in sunlight. No king’s son
eager to chase the golden bird

‘cross swale and pulpy mere,
cold in linden shadows leaning
long outside my door. Nobody

seeking the wolf’s word of caution
you must beware your brother
when you meet him,

when he tells you to set aside
your apple and your horse –
there is life unending to be found

at the inn. And I tell you
you must know the worst
is this: disappearing from memory

like a child down the throat of a troll.
©2009 *b1gfan
:iconb1gfan:

Author's Comments

Worlds change; lives disappear. That's just how it is. The old ways are bound to change, so that even if the old characters stay with us (and they surely seem to) they are just not the same as what they once were. This is the blessing and the curse of time.

Just recently I was reading a collection by Joanne Asala called Norwegian Troll Tales. It includes a bunch of fun stories. How fun - weeeeelllll - there's this one - the tale of little Butterball

There was once an old woman who sat baking. She had a little boy, and he was so round and fat , and fond of good things to eat, that she called him "Butterball". And she had a dog called "Goldtooth" . All at once the dog started to bark.

"Run out, my little Butterball," said the old woman, "and see who Goldtooth's barking at." So the boy run outs, and came in and said, "Oh, heaven help me! Here comes a big ,tall Troll-hag , with her head under her arm and a sack on her back!" "Run under the breadboard and hide!" said his mother. Then in came the big Troll. "Good day!" she said. "God bless you!" said Butterball's mother. "Isn't Butterball at home today?" asked the Troll. "No, he's in the woods with his father bagging grouse," replied the mother. "Devil take it! Said the Troll-hag. "I've got such a fine little silver knife I wanted to give him!" "Pip, pip! Here I am! said Butterball, from underneath the breadboard, and out he came. "I'm so old and my back's so stiff," said the Troll. "You'll have to pop down into the sack and fetch it yourself." When Butterball was well down inside, the Troll-hag swung the sack on her back and rushed out through the door. But, when they had gone a bit on the way, the Troll grew tired and asked," How far must I go to find a place to take a nap?" "A furlong," said Butterball. So the roll put the sack down by the side of the road, and went off through the woods by herself, and lay down to sleep.

In the meantime , Butterball saw his change. He took his knife , ripped a hole in the sack, and popped out. Then he put a large pine root in his place, and home he ran to his mother. When the Troll got home and laid eyes on what she had in the sack, she was beside herself with rage. The next day the old woman sat baking again. All at once the dog started to bark. "Run out, my little Butterball," she said, "and see what Goldtooth's barking at". "Oh nay! Oh nay! That nasty beast!" said Butterball. "Now she's coming back, with her head under her arm and a big sack on her back!" "Run under the breadboard and hide!" said his mother. "Good day!" she said. "God bless you!" said Butterball's mother. "Isn't Butterball at home today?" asked the Troll. "No, he's in the woods with his father bagging grouse," replied the mother. "Devil take it! Said the Troll-hag. "I've got such a fine little silver fork I wanted to give him!" "Pip, pip! Here I am! said Butterball, and out he came.. "My back's so stiff," said the Troll. "You'll have to pop down into the sack and fetch it yourself."

When Butterball was well inside the sack, the Troll flung it on her back and set off. When they had gone a good bit on the way , she grew tired and asked, "How far off is it to where I can sleep?" "Halve a mile," replied Butterball. So the Troll put the sack down by the side of the road, and went up through the woods, and lay down to sleep. While the Troll was away, Butterball made a hole in the sack, and when he was out he put a big stone inside. When the Troll-hag got home, she made a fire in the hearth, hung a huge pot over, and was going to stew Butterball. But when she took the sack, thinking it was Butterball she was going to shake out, down fell the stone, making a hole in the bottom of the pot, so the water ran out and put out the fire. Now the Troll was terribly angry and said, "No matter how heavy he makes himself this time, I'll trick him just the same , I will!"

The third time was just like the others; Goldtooth started to bark, and so the mother said to Butterball, "Run out, my little Butterball, and see who Goldtooth's barking at". So Butterball ran out, and came back in again and said:" Oh mercy me! It's that Troll again, with her head under her arm and a sack on her back!!" "Run under the breadboard and hide!" said the mother "God bless you!" said Butterball's mother. "Isn't Butterball at home today?" asked the Troll. "Indeed he isn't!" said the mother. "He's out in the woods with his father bagging grouse." "Devil take it! Said the Troll-hag. "I've got such a pretty little silver spoon I wanted to give him!" "Pip, pip! Here I am! said Butterball, and out he came from underneath the breadboard. "My back's so stiff," said the Troll-hag. "You'll have to pop down into the sack and fetch it yourself."

When Butterball was well down inside , the Troll threw the sack on her back and set off on the way. This time she didn't go off by herself and lie down to sleep, but strode straight home with Butterball in the sack. And when they got there, it was a Sunday. Then the Troll said to her daughter, "Now you must take Butterball, and cut'im up, and make out of'im the time I come back. For now I'm going to church and invite my friends to a feast."

When the Troll had gone, the daughter was going to take Butterball and butcher him, but she didn't quite know how she was to set about it. "Wait and I'll show you how to go about it, I will," said Butterball. "Lay your head on the stool and you'll see." ...

You can read the rest of this one and a good many more such folktales here [link] if you're interested.

Dave Prisk

Comments


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:iconkneelingglory:
=KneelingGlory Jul 7, 2009, 8:07:05 PM
You mixed very serious contemplation and exciting/magical imagery perfectly in this one! Instant :+fav:

--
*DailyLitDeviations | *Critique-It | =TheContestClub | *DailyDeviants

Not For Sale: Fighting Human Slavery
:iconb1gfan:
*b1gfan Jul 7, 2009, 8:12:49 PM
:D Thank you Lili :) That is amazingly supportive of you :hug: I am very pleased to know you liked it :heart:
:icontworoads:
*Tworoads Jul 7, 2009, 8:17:12 PM
Great ending to the poem, Dave! ^^


`n

--
i'm a million different people from one day to the next.


:bulletblack:Member of : *The-Labyrinth-Club:bulletblack:
:iconyouinventedme:
*YouInventedMe Jul 7, 2009, 8:18:09 PM
your poems are always a delightful
double feature. a poem & a story.
now THAT'S infotainment!

--
an antique arms and armor expert
:iconb1gfan:
*b1gfan Jul 7, 2009, 8:20:31 PM
It's a dA Tueday night double feature :) Just for you my friend :D
:iconb1gfan:
*b1gfan Jul 7, 2009, 8:21:03 PM
:) Awww thank you Noah - I'm glad you enjoyed that one :higfive:
:icontworoads:
*Tworoads Jul 7, 2009, 8:26:37 PM
You're welcome. I'll have to reread it though; in a bad mood and not taking your poem in as I should. Sorry =(


`n

--
i'm a million different people from one day to the next.


:bulletblack:Member of : *The-Labyrinth-Club:bulletblack:
:iconb1gfan:
*b1gfan Jul 7, 2009, 8:32:03 PM
no worries - I'm sorry your feeling poorly but I hope the gloom lifts soon and you feel better :D
:icontworoads:
*Tworoads Jul 7, 2009, 8:34:39 PM
Almost got in two car accidents today...and had a lovely encounter with a receptionist in a doctor's office who shouldn't have her job...on top of wanting to never draw for another year again. -.-

Thanks, and I hope I do too. =)


`n

--
i'm a million different people from one day to the next.


:bulletblack:Member of : *The-Labyrinth-Club:bulletblack:
:iconaqua-rat:
~Aqua-rat Jul 8, 2009, 1:28:39 AM
I felt the sad longing in the poem. The story was the usual ridiculous but grimly entertaining style of many folk tales. At first I thought Butterball was stupid but it turned out to be the troll who was stupid. Thank you for the entertainment. :D

--
THIS IS THE GATE OF HEAVEN. ENTER YE ALL BY THIS DOOR. (This door is kept locked because of the draught - please use side door.)
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