The Parable of the Fox and the Chickens

[a vermits]

And finally the day came where the chickens transcended their submissive lot in life by capturing, in a strong cage, the wolf that had long terrorized their people. And the chickens had a grand feast that night and placed at the center their tormentor. The wolf: consumed with anger and an insatiable blood lust, gnawed at the bars of his cage. This pleased the chickens and they spent the evening dancing and taunting their enemy.

In the coming weeks the initial excitement of the capture wore off and the wolf became just another road-side attraction in chicken town. Having succumb to captivity, the wolf relaxed the compulsive pacing that defined his first hours of captivity. Soon some of the bravest chickens engaged the wolf in conversation. The wolf regaled his audience with tales of adventure from far away lands. The chickens, having lived a rather pedestrian life in chicken town, found the wolf's stories liberating. They imagined a new world where they were no longer forced to take part in the oppressive tedium of chicken life. After a few months, many of the younger chicken could be seen enthusiastically mimicing the wolf's most violent tendencies. This adoration continued for many years until the wolf gained, in the youth underground,  a Godlike status. The elders attempt to suppress this dangerous ideology but soon realized that, to save their way of life, they had no course of action but to squash the uprising with force.

The war of the chickens was short-lived. The younger chickens, fueled by their desire to be free and made strong by the expert training of the wolf, slaughtered the elders of chicken town. And as it stood: the old ways of the town past, ushering in a new society that behaved much like the wolf they had always feared.  After a short-lived debate, the heads of the new government decided to free their leader. The wolf, having grown old, promised to take the chickens back into the forest so that they could finally assimilate to their new way of life.


So the chickens marched proudly to meet their brothers and have great adventures. Some died from the harsh conditions of the wood, and when they finally were presented to the wolf council most were sick and weakened by the journey. The great wolf leader: an old wise elder of the wolf tribe, couldn't believe his eyes when his old friend brought to his feet thousands of chickens lacking both fear and malice. "What are we to do friend?" The wolf asked. "These chickens could feed us for the winter and ensure our survival."

The leader of the chickens approached offering,

"We owe everything to the great wisdom of the wolf. We were mindless slaves before our wolf brother saved our wasted lives. We are prepared to do anything to serve you and we will gladly go to our deaths to preserve the wolf way of life."


From that day forward the world of wolves became one of great leisure. No longer concerned with hunting and the gathering of food, the wolves turned their attention to the arts, to good food and high culture. The chickens willfully reproduced to provide for their masters and were granted all the pleasures of the wolf kingdom for as long as they were allowed to live. Many of the old ways of the wolf were lost replaced by a refined and dignified existence. This did not mean, however, that the wolves were weakened by their new culture, and when man finally made his way to the land of the wolves he found himself trapped in an inescapable iron cage. That night, the animals of the wood threw a grand celebration. Under the wash of summer moonlight the chickens danced around the cage like wolves, and the wolves imitated the tears of man in an attempt to understand.

[tectak]

And finally the day came where the chickens transcended their submissive lot in life by capturing, in a strong cage, the wolf that had long terrorized their people. And the chickens had a grand feast that night and placed at the center their tormentor. The wolf: consumed with anger and an insatiable blood lust, gnawed at the bars of his cage. This pleased the chickens and they spent the evening dancing and taunting their enemy.

In the coming weeks the initial excitement of the capture wore off and the wolf became just another road-side attraction in chicken town. Having succumb to captivity, the wolf relaxed the compulsive pacing that defined his first hours of captivity. Soon some of the bravest chickens engaged the wolf in conversation. The wolf regaled his audience with tales of adventure from far away lands. The chickens, having lived a rather pedestrian life in chicken town, found the wolf's stories liberating. They imagined a new world where they were no longer forced to take part in the oppressive tedium of chicken life. After a few months, many of the younger chicken could be seen enthusiastically mimicing the wolf's most violent tendencies. This adoration continued for many years until the wolf gained, in the youth underground,  a Godlike status. The elders attempt to suppress this dangerous ideology but soon realized that, to save their way of life, they had no course of action but to squash the uprising with force.

The war of the chickens was short-lived. The younger chickens, fueled by their desire to be free and made strong by the expert training of the wolf, slaughtered the elders of chicken town. And as it stood: the old ways of the town past, ushering in a new society that behaved much like the wolf they had always feared.  After a short-lived debate, the heads of the new government decided to free their leader. The wolf, having grown old, promised to take the chickens back into the forest so that they could finally assimilate to their new way of life.


So the chickens marched proudly to meet their brothers and have the great adventures. Some died from the harsh conditions of the wood, and when they finally were presented to the wolf council most were sick and weakened by the journey. The great wolf leader: an old wise elder of the wolf tribe, couldn't believe his eyes when his old friend brought to his feet thousands of chickens lacking both fear and malice. "What are we to do friend?" The wolf asked. "These chickens could feed us for the winter and ensure our survival."

The leader of the chickens approached offering,

"We owe everything to the great wisdom of the wolf. We were mindless slaves before our wolf brother saved our wasted lives. We are prepared to do anything to serve you and we will gladly go to our deaths to preserve the wolf way of life."


From that day forward the world of wolves became one of great leisure. No longer concerned with hunting and the gathering of food, the wolves turned their attention to the arts, to good food and high culture. The chickens willfully reproduced to provide for their masters and were granted all the pleasures of the wolf kingdom for as long as they were allowed to live. Many of the old ways of the wolf were lost replaced by a refined and dignified existence. This did not mean, however, that the wolves were weakened by their new culture, and when man finally made his way to the land of the wolves he found himself trapped in an inescapable iron cage. That night, the animals of the wood threw a grand celebration. Under the wash of summer moonlight the chickens danced around the cage like wolves, and the wolves imitated the tears of man in an attempt to understand.

.....but is it poetry?
Best,
tectak

[a vermits]

Kinda dances the line, if only in me brain.

[billy]

Hi Ash.
It reads well to me, I have two nits though. the title is too obvious, and it doesn't say "this is an attempt at poetry" to me.

while a parable can be a story in verse or prose, this definitely has the feel of the latter. I suppose it could be called prose poetry, but not by me

that said, i enjoyed it, i loved the twist at the end. and the language used to convey a parable in the style of animal farm, in that one animal takes the role and personification of another to the extreme not exactly but it does have some of the same qualities. i also enjoyed that i wanted to read it to the end. whether i see it as poetry or not doesn't mean it is or it isn't. that you perceive it as such is what matters. that said, like all writers/poets who place their work on a plate for the public to taste, you have to ask yourself did you succeed in writing what you thought you wrote

thanks for the read.

[Erthona]

A parable is a one to one correlatioon, almost and extended simile. Generally it takes a common and oft repeated fallacy of mankind and presents it in a different setting to make it more paletable so it gets below the intended readers defences. Usually it can be condensed into a succient morale. The parable of the talents told by Jesus could be condensed to say "those who live life in fear, never gain anything other than what they have." There is no obvious moral to this story, unless you count "the young thought they were slaves because they had to follow rules, in an attmpt to rebell they became true slaves." The problem for me is no matter how you slice it, it does not generally reflect any kind of human archtype. To some degree, although less skillful, it reminds me of the Pied Piper of Hamelin, which also does not correlate in any kind of one to one type situation within the mileau of human behavior patterns. Are people greedy. Sure. But are they so gready that they would go to such extrwemes as happens in PPH, with such extreme results. No, the story does not ring true. It is not a story of morality, although it may appear at first to be so, but rather, it is a fantasy with enough open ends to keep people intrested. To some extent these astories are similar to nonscence verse like Lewis Carrol's "Jabberwacky". It offers just enough understandable parts, and just enough parts that sound similar to known things that the mind thinks it can makes sense out of it.
Obviously this is not a poemm in case anyone had the slightest doubt. It is obviouisly written in prose form.

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
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For a comparison of parable with other kinds of stories, see traditional story.

"...parable is a succinct story, in prose or verse, which illustrates one or more instructive principles, or lessons, or (sometimes) a normative principle. It differs from a fable in that fables use animals, plants, inanimate objects, and forces of nature as characters, while parables generally feature human characters. It is a type of analogy." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parable

As you can see, from the definition above this is not a parable, but in fact it most closely resembles a fable, at least in terms of structure. At this point I must leave as I am out of time, or I would comment more on what this piece either does or does not accomplish. Sorry ,no time.



Dale


Althopugh a parable can be written in prose or verse, the form is generally obvious when a parable in written in verse.

[a vermits]

This has a human in it. And I think the lesson is clear. But if it makes anyone feel better I can title this "Some shit about a fox and some chickens." Nah, it's more a parable.

[Todd]

Hi a vermits, sorry I haven't had a chance to look at your work up until this point. Here are some comments for you.

First off, I love parables. This reminds me of some of the James Thurber Animal Parables, and a little bit of Louise Gluck's Parable of the Dove. It skirts the edge of fable because it has talking human-like animals but it still has more parable elements (real world situations, moral lesson, etc).

And finally the day came where the chickens transcended their submissive lot in life by capturing, in a strong cage, the wolf that had long terrorized their people.--Is a wolf the right villain isn't it traditionally a fox or a weasel (something clever that acts alone not in a pack) And the chickens had a grand feast that night and placed at the center--maybe add "was" their tormentor. The wolf: consumed with anger and an insatiable blood lust, gnawed at the bars of his cage. This pleased the chickens and they spent the evening--maybe cut and...evening and add "as they danced and taunted..." dancing and taunting their enemy.

In the coming weeks the initial excitement of the capture wore off and the wolf became just another road-side attraction in chicken town.--love that first sentenceHaving succumb--add -ed to captivity, the wolf relaxed the--cut "the" replace with "into" and cut everthing after pacing in the sentence. The repeat of captivity should go in any event compulsive pacing that defined his first hours of captivity. Soon some of the bravest chickens--bravest feels wrong from the scene you've set up the wolf has been reduced to a spectacle...maybe something to express young thrill seekers, or such engaged the wolf in conversation--maybe something about them drawing near the cage. You don't have to say that they initiated. Just add the word impromptu before audience in the next sentence and you probably get there. The wolf regaled his audience with tales of adventure from far away lands. The chickens, having lived a rather pedestrian life in chicken town--don't think you need chicken town again the pedestrian life stands well on it's own, found the wolf's stories liberating. They imagined a new world where they were--would instead of were no longer forced to take part in the oppressive tedium of chicken life--instead of chicken life talk about examples the oppressive life of pecking seeds, or laying eggs or whatever. After a few months, many of the younger chicken could be seen enthusiastically mimicing the wolf's most violent tendencies--again examples. This adoration continued for many years--you can stay vague don't worry about for many years until the wolf gained, in the youth underground,  a Godlike status. The elders attempt to suppress this dangerous ideology but soon realized that, to save their way of life, they had no course of action but to squash the uprising with force.

The war of the chickens was short-lived.--love this line The younger chickens, fueled by their desire to be free and made strong by the expert training of the wolf, slaughtered the elders--maybe simply their elders and cut of chicken town of chicken town. And as it stood: the old ways of the town past--passed, ushering in a new society that behaved much like the wolf they had always--maybe previously instead of always feared.  After a short-lived debate, the heads of the new government decided to free their leader. The wolf, having grown old--instead something more visual old in fur and fang...or some such, promised to take the chickens back into the forest so that they could finally assimilate to their new way of life. --maybe instead of assimilate finally have the freedom they craved


So the chickens marched proudly to meet their brothers and have great adventures. Some died from the harsh conditions of the wood, and when they finally were presented to the wolf council most were sick and weakened by the journey. The great wolf leader: an old wise elder of the wolf tribe, couldn't believe his eyes when his old friend brought to his feet thousands of chickens lacking both fear and malice. "What are we to do friend?" The wolf asked. "These chickens could feed us for the winter and ensure our survival."

The leader of the chickens approached offering,

"We owe everything to the great wisdom of the wolf. We were mindless slaves before our wolf brother saved our wasted lives. We are prepared to do anything to serve you and we will gladly go to our deaths to preserve the wolf way of life."


From that day forward the world of wolves became one of great leisure. No longer concerned with hunting and the gathering of food, the wolves turned their attention to the arts, to good food and high culture. The chickens willfully reproduced to provide for their masters--brothers may be more appropriate from the chicken perspective and were granted all the pleasures of the wolf kingdom for as long as they were allowed to live. Many of the old ways of the wolf were lost replaced by a refined and dignified existence. This did not mean, however, that the wolves were weakened by their new culture,--maybe this instead of their and when man finally made his way to the land of the wolves he found himself trapped in an inescapable iron cage. That night, the animals of the wood threw a grand celebration. Under the wash of summer moonlight the chickens danced around the cage like wolves, and the wolves imitated the tears of man in an attempt to understand.--great last line and a nice spin on the cycle repeating

I hope some of that will be helpful. They're mostly just some thoughts and options to consider.

Best,

Todd