The Trojan dead are whispering Indecipherable secrets to sodden-eared earth. The wind has eyes and sees beyond, Titans outremembered. Ajax and his oft-turned back Carries again the fallen from the fields: The ******-slept clouds, unsuspecting; Slumped Achilles of disbelieving-godless eyes, Flinging the final spear of his own blood. Soldiers all now of the green husk. Titanic silence engulfs sound, Except from those who mourn. The storm is only a storm As long as the leaves are lost. Such is the untimely, timeliness of war.
In the post-Illiad Homeric world, Achilles was struck in the heel by an arrow shot from Paris, brother of Hector, whom Achilles had defeated in battle during the Trojan War.
Though there are many variants to the myth, Ajax who was known as much of a warrior as Achilles, in many of these tales carries his body from the field in a show of honor.
For a slide video of this and other poems, please check out my Instagram page at chrissaitta or my Tumblr page at Chris-Saitta.
Worried about all those gays getting married Playing football , everywhere on the TV Yeah , and all those dammed dessert rats Chopping off heads for all of us to see Shooting those Muslim creeps Everyone of them had it coming Now , that's just the way it's going to be
And all those porch monkeys Cut off all that gimme They need to get a job And quit dressing like they were slobs
Kick all those wet backs back to Mexico There stealing all our jobs They just come over to breed like rabbits So they can stuff the liberal ballots
And Damm the chinks , ***** , and redman There no better than all the Jews Ther're thieves that steal us blind We need to get rid of every X , Y , and U Now that would ease my mind
And all that hogwash crap in the Constitution That doesn't apply to me This is the home of the White man All red , blue , and white you see That's the home of all that's me ,