Being an anomaly
I trace it anatomically
and source it as proximity
To asinine proclivity
...
The tendency
To actively
Reject the actuality
will be our fall collectively
Unless we drop passivity
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
What song did the sirens sing, Ulysses?
What tune could break your will,
cause you to lose your way?
Were you strung by the sound of a harpy's harp?
Lured by the lies of hideous creatures
singing songs of fabled falsehoods?
Like empty eggshells holding none
of the nutrients they promised.
Was their melody flooded with the bitter truth of love unreturned?
Did they sing of release?
Release from the turmoil the journey was and would continue to bring?
Were the dissonant harmonics of a watery end,
the chance to be one with the sea
what made you beg for your bindings to be cut?
Perhaps the sirens sang the greatest songs of all.
Perchance they sung
of passion sweeter than nectar,
of love stronger than ambrosia,
waiting to be given to the sailor
that could traverse
death itself
and make his way to them.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC