"This is a collect call from: 'Darlene Ryder', at the Nielsen County Sheriff's Department, press '2' to accept charges and be connected."

beep

"hello? Bill?...you there?"
"**** Darlene, how many times we gotta ******' do this?!", he threw his voice at her through the phone like a fastball wrapped in firecrackers.
"I dint do nuthin' wrong! they jus got sumpn' against me s'all!"
"uh huh, the **** d'you do, huh?
"the ***** had it comin', I was jus tryin' to have a few 'n relax then she come 'n talk 'bout how I was lookn' atter funny but I watn't- I was jus mindin' my own talkin' to Charlie. So all's I need from you is to get yer lazy, belly-picken', beer-guzzlin' hole fer a face down here and unpinch this ******' mess!" and hung up the receiver on her end of prison.
      The guards shoot each other a look then raise their eyebrows.  They'll be recounting this over beers tonight beneath the monstrous glow of 47 90" TVs in between attempts at the waitress young enough to be their daughter.  They'll shovel in the wings of a total of 18 birds drowned in hot sauce and butter before the sports bar stops feeding them.  Then they'll all drive home drunk with hot breath and testosterone like molasses, ending their nightly routine with their ***** in their hands and their pants around their ankles drooling at tiny glowing screens.  
      Long live the American gods of New Olympus.

send our ashes into space
so we may dance with spirits
set us on a lightning flight
a bridge to all our wishes
spread our matter in the shade
so we may breathe Olympus
spheres of gas and burning light
let’s end in silent glory



-
by Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)

I.
This bridge spans two worlds... No, two realities, though where gone?!
Mirrors the mythological beauty of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon
Endorsing the clout and stoicism of Zeus's Statue on Mount Olympus
Parallels the grieving love that built the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus
Evokes the envy of the world as did the Great Library of Alexandria
Rescues forlorn souls, unrivaled since the Lighthouse of Alexandria
Embodies Giza's Pyramid's genius and their incorporated golden ratios
Shorter lived and more vulnerable than the Colossus of Rhodes

      Most impressive, though, is that this bridge was only built by two
         Abandoned the 8th wonder of the ancient world... Dare who?

II.
Horatius Cocles, sole guardian of its last half, despairs at the disrepair.  
  Mind forever enveloped and enthralled by shadow's legendary glare!

Horatius Cocles, despondent, knowing that glory days are long lost, 
  but more so bearing knowledge that Venus will never once more cross!

Horatius Cocles, tortured by this bridge, yet impotent to torch it ablaze.
   Disabled evermore by visceral love, yet would do it all the same.

There's broken glass, something escaped
from the think-tank. Now that thought's
gone and gotten loose whatever will we do:

These inauspicious days alcohol only leads
to the darkest recesses of my mind anymore
for who knows how many suicide notes I wrote
whilst in the cold throes of this depressing war
on my own dear sanity; you tell me who the victor
really is.

"Yes, I know"
"I am a son of Hades,
The darkness is my birthright".

A daydream I'd been having
too often, my thoughts were
dreams of escaping
something terrible
but I would only entertain them.
Still I find myself asking
why I feel sick in the head so often?
Am I playing mind games?
I know it's not him [who I am]
yet I created this thing that is,
Isn't this thing part of me, is this/it's contrary, this counterintuitive.
Nothing is as it seems, the world scares me, and all I ever wanted was a human being to be gentle with. A significant Other? I can barely be with myself let alone any other. I have little power over my own prophecy nor my dreams as of yet. When I become lucid then I'll know that I can finally sleep unburdened.



Yes I know,
She told me so.
                        [Daphni]

we stormed Olympus and flung our armour down on the craggy peak,
huffed and collapsed down into the dirt,
and someone asked where all the gods were.
“we were stupid,” you shot back,
“did you think they were here? they are everywhere,
and within us. we are here – so are the gods.”
“why did you come, then?”
you shrugged, armour flashing.
“the view.”

Rage and roar upon your thrones,
Love, loot and hate, be disparate,
But not for me are bawls and blows;
I’ll tend the hearth, the heart, the grate.
In the shadows I rest, my face a-glow –
Not plagued by fury as hot as fire,
Nor ambition, wrath, desire,
Nor revenge as cold as snow.
Quiet yet not dormant,
Docile though not all compliant,
You may scoff and scorn my choice
But I still hold the eternal fire –
My flame keeps Olympus alight,
I keep all safe throughout the night
And though I am not in your sight
You’ll always find me through your plight.
For I am Hestia,
First-born goddess,
The softest star.

Come in, come in my friends,
Let us talk of gods and men.
But I must warn:
I ride the dragon Confucius cannot tame.
We soar on winds the Buddha cannot calm.
I frolic free on Jesus’ throne;
Secured in stone of my Olympus home,
Whose whence and why I can not know.

So come in, come in my friends
Let us talk of gods and men.*
If you come to teach and learn,
Come in, come in.
Let us share our common yearn.

Else go away so as not to waste my time with God.

                                                           ­             August, 2011