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"greeks" poems
White folks: pack your bags and go. Our nut-brown world is quite offended. Make your shame-faced exit NOW, And leave your mansions unattended. Wait—before you pass the doors, It's time to settle ethnic scores. No more ragtime Minstrel Show. Our Moorish Science took it down. Black lives matter. White, less so— Now move your pale face out of town . . . But first, shell out for racial shame Caucasian losers of the game. Cultural pride is ours alone: Kings and Egyptian queens we were. The glories of our race, well-known Bedazzle in a darkened blur (Clear to Africa's descendants— Puzzling to you white dependents). Blackness lent your world its light, Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers. Scandinavia grew bright Under our beneficent powers. Negroes gave your blondes their beauty; Helped those Norsemen shake their ***** The Seven Wonders of the world: We built them all. No vain conjecture Dims our banner, black, unfurled, Above eternal architecture. Arts and knowledge gained from us Are what we threaten to discuss. We invented math and science Which you robbed from Timbuktu. Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance Caused Old Europe to renew. All our treasure that you plundered Testifies: your days are numbered. Classics of our Greeks you stole: Philosophy was never yours. Shame upon your racist soul; For Bach and Mozart both were Moors. Misappropriated treasures call for ruthless hard-line measures. Latino fate falls next—but, where ? Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ? Orientals everywhere: Choose your side and join the fight. Blackness rising! Late the hour; Heed your call to fight the power. Crackers need to check your race— Stop rooting for that ****** clown. Rednecks all up in our face; Racist throwbacks got us down. But as your statues bite the dust Your light goes dark (you know it must). So move on out, oppressor, thief. Long have you held our nation back. In some white galaxy seek relief— But here the light itself is black. Stars are racist. So is the sun. Now let God's great black will be done.
0
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
Betting on the Races
White folks: pack your bags and go. Our nut-brown world is quite offended. Make your shame-faced exit NOW, And leave your mansions unattended. Wait—before you pass the doors, It's time to settle ethnic scores. No more ragtime Minstrel Show. Our Moorish Science took it down. Black lives matter. White, less so— Now move your pale face out of town . . . But first, shell out for racial shame Caucasian losers of the game. Cultural pride is ours alone: Kings and Egyptian queens we were. The glories of our race, well-known Bedazzle in a darkened blur (Clear to Africa's descendants— Puzzling to you white dependents). Blackness lent your world its light, Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers. Scandinavia grew bright Under our beneficent powers. Negroes gave your blondes their beauty; Helped those Norsemen shake their ***** The Seven Wonders of the world: We built them all. No vain conjecture Dims our banner, black, unfurled, Above eternal architecture. Arts and knowledge gained from us Are what we threaten to discuss. We invented math and science Which you robbed from Timbuktu. Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance Caused Old Europe to renew. All our treasure that you plundered Testifies: your days are numbered. Classics of our Greeks you stole: Philosophy was never yours. Shame upon your racist soul; For Bach and Mozart both were Moors. Misappropriated treasures call for ruthless hard-line measures. Latino fate falls next—but, where ? Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ? Orientals everywhere: Choose your side and join the fight. Blackness rising! Late the hour; Heed your call to fight the power. Crackers need to check your race— Stop rooting for that ****** clown. Rednecks all up in our face; Racist throwbacks got us down. But as your statues bite the dust Your light goes dark (you know it must). So move on out, oppressor, thief. Long have you held our nation back. In some white galaxy seek relief— But here the light itself is black. Stars are racist. So is the sun. Now let God's great black will be done.
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60
Shamans, in an attempt to find a word that all cultures could understand, to represent, universally, the subject; married the languages by root. Each attribute or thing that the beast is said to do, have or have power to do or over is found as a definition in a language of the individual roots. Take Sanskrit for instance. "Dra," is "water and combine it with Sumerian, "Gun, Gon," and you get a "water-born," beast who "writhes, twists or wraps around," which is the Ouroboros Serpent as shown in ancient images. The secret to all ancient myth or religion is in interpretation of language into foreign languages over time. And, yes, it is very creative, appears complex due to time but is just humans trying to describe observable nature. None of it is meant to be taken literally unless you literally live six thousand years ago and speak in an ancient tongue. Addendum * Keltic, "Con, Kon," makes the Dragon, "All-knowing." * And we know from Plato that Greeks stole their root words from the Celts. Plato's own words in, 'The Cratylus.'
0
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 5:23 PM UTC
DRA KONdefɪɴed
only an idiot like me, the rain poured down, my socks were wetted,  and i looked at the pavement for glory, instead i found a £10 note and  imagined my right shoe on my left leg, and my left shoe on my right  leg... just to prove the luck. it came from listening to rotting christ's kata ton daimona... i wrote the poem on two tesco receipts numbering them no. 1 - .4, it made sense to just give it a narrative... the naturally apparent lisp of greek is due to... lies between theta (θ) and phi (φ)... check feta cheese... it might be less morbidly fermented... that's why the greeks have a natural lisp... it's theta and it's phi... in english it's like chinese.... w & r... something's rolling something's waving, something's trigonometric... harrison fowd was almost jonathan woss if i care... the chinese in english debate with chin-chin-wanker scissors piece of paper stone good luck on the handshake: lost the price of interest being gained for excavation purposes of dinosaur bones and inflation via the ptertodactyl of the extended mohawk shave... english dicionary makes me confused... it places theta alongside the, than... but then it's therapy... thermometer... too many unique examples i'd have said... that's the lisp there... sidelined phew and engaged in phew in byzantine... english linguistics is filled with too many "unique" examples of expression... coupled with the celebrity culture... i farted and a person took hold of a *** squeeze... how's that?! english language in summary? pleasing on the eye... but the spelling? a burden on the tongue. i know that slavic linguistics would make enlgish that's written ugly... it wouldn't be pharmacology but farmacology... then it made sense, i stopped asking the english dicta written down, the greek θ wasn't a couple of th & etc... a few athenains in death metal said it like i said it... the 2nd f... it was απηθανoν - because it was simply athens - fern fence... and not d... defence, or anything easily acquired as a prescription of zee wee point of german scottish.
0
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 7:04 PM UTC
the sweet greek lisp (θ vs. φ) no. 1
only an idiot like me, the rain poured down, my socks were wetted,  and i looked at the pavement for glory, instead i found a £10 note and  imagined my right shoe on my left leg, and my left shoe on my right  leg... just to prove the luck. it came from listening to rotting christ's kata ton daimona... i wrote the poem on two tesco receipts numbering them no. 1 - .4, it made sense to just give it a narrative... the naturally apparent lisp of greek is due to... lies between theta (θ) and phi (φ)... check feta cheese... it might be less morbidly fermented... that's why the greeks have a natural lisp... it's theta and it's phi... in english it's like chinese.... w & r... something's rolling something's waving, something's trigonometric... harrison fowd was almost jonathan woss if i care... the chinese in english debate with chin-chin-wanker scissors piece of paper stone good luck on the handshake: lost the price of interest being gained for excavation purposes of dinosaur bones and inflation via the ptertodactyl of the extended mohawk shave... english dicionary makes me confused... it places theta alongside the, than... but then it's therapy... thermometer... too many unique examples i'd have said... that's the lisp there... sidelined phew and engaged in phew in byzantine... english linguistics is filled with too many "unique" examples of expression... coupled with the celebrity culture... i farted and a person took hold of a *** squeeze... how's that?! english language in summary? pleasing on the eye... but the spelling? a burden on the tongue. i know that slavic linguistics would make enlgish that's written ugly... it wouldn't be pharmacology but farmacology... then it made sense, i stopped asking the english dicta written down, the greek θ wasn't a couple of th & etc... a few athenains in death metal said it like i said it... the 2nd f... it was απηθανoν - because it was simply athens - fern fence... and not d... defence, or anything easily acquired as a prescription of zee wee point of german scottish.
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40
admired by the Greeks and the Romans with her soft chocolate brown eyes open wide but where to find my Queen Black Athena from Motherland Africa
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Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 5:48 PM UTC
Motherland Africa
Shouting for longevity, Slamming at the counterers… - upon your dignified respite! Would-be detractors without brevity, Before the wine-dark Sea at night… A pleading to philosophy of commonly renowned, Beating sand and posturing, uncouth before a crown; “Priam please!” Sun and Moon, two sons shall plead, nay, -beg in tandem with the man; “He serves the seas, trust him please, our father; this priest of Trojan-land!” Laocoon “Fear the Greeks, of mind I speak, approval by a van-i-ty; it surely is a death you seek! An asp this horse, gift no more and tragedy in due remorse, I beg of you my call to heed, wooden-burnt this crispy steed, …alight in flame, glorified name; Poseidon shall endorse!” Priests of Apollo “Ridiculous! Worship we must, now bring it to the City thus!” Laocoon “The actions of accursed Kore, Need I remind you all Paris caused this war? For he mocked this god, the abyss it knows, with terror comes a deadly tide, **** that fool and his fiddling pride!* Burn this beast we must with haste for Greeks they have a certain taste, Their acts meant always to confound, wily, since they were unbound. What harm may do, to rest at shore? Consult the stars of yester-yore. Assign no chore, one heaven’s night, plus a day, to sit upon our princely shore?” Setting (read/spoken at the fastest pace the reader can go) A horrid hiss above the wave as two doth slither from out the cave…   The creatures from the darkest days, ancient spectacle for the knaves, bear witness to the punishment, commanded by a great trident, hearing screams of bannermen, for King and council a shocking twist, serpents ****** from out the mists, encircling priest and his kin, the howling they had done no sin, never be forgot-ten, as Typhon cried out merrily, serpents and the tragic sea; swallowed up all the three. Priam “Farewell dear Laocoon and two sons with thee!” *
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Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 4:13 PM UTC
Knowledge of the Peoples
Shouting for longevity, Slamming at the counterers… - upon your dignified respite! Would-be detractors without brevity, Before the wine-dark Sea at night… A pleading to philosophy of commonly renowned, Beating sand and posturing, uncouth before a crown; “Priam please!” Sun and Moon, two sons shall plead, nay, -beg in tandem with the man; “He serves the seas, trust him please, our father; this priest of Trojan-land!” Laocoon “Fear the Greeks, of mind I speak, approval by a van-i-ty; it surely is a death you seek! An asp this horse, gift no more and tragedy in due remorse, I beg of you my call to heed, wooden-burnt this crispy steed, …alight in flame, glorified name; Poseidon shall endorse!” Priests of Apollo “Ridiculous! Worship we must, now bring it to the City thus!” Laocoon “The actions of accursed Kore, Need I remind you all Paris caused this war? For he mocked this god, the abyss it knows, with terror comes a deadly tide, **** that fool and his fiddling pride!* Burn this beast we must with haste for Greeks they have a certain taste, Their acts meant always to confound, wily, since they were unbound. What harm may do, to rest at shore? Consult the stars of yester-yore. Assign no chore, one heaven’s night, plus a day, to sit upon our princely shore?” Setting (read/spoken at the fastest pace the reader can go) A horrid hiss above the wave as two doth slither from out the cave…   The creatures from the darkest days, ancient spectacle for the knaves, bear witness to the punishment, commanded by a great trident, hearing screams of bannermen, for King and council a shocking twist, serpents ****** from out the mists, encircling priest and his kin, the howling they had done no sin, never be forgot-ten, as Typhon cried out merrily, serpents and the tragic sea; swallowed up all the three. Priam “Farewell dear Laocoon and two sons with thee!” *
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34
I am no longer a Roman, Though my nose would differ. I'm not Viking, But my descendants have blonde and red hair. I am a beneficiary of the dark ages, The scriptoriums and monasteries That brought the Greeks and Romans to life. I am not Gael, though my eyes smile When I hear the harp and pipes. Neither am I Saxon nor Norman, Victorious or defeated. I, we, have metamorphized, Casted of the moulted casement, Spread dry wings and lifted, Carried on fresh winds To new worlds To read, write, fish and hunt, And I have gathered My lineage, Framed it in genetics on my wall, To point at in fond remembrance Of what I once was.
0
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC
We Have Changed
The name Theodore has its Greek anthropologies, Jewish anthropologies and also Germany anthropologies. The Greek anthropological perspective of The name Theodore indeed has something to do with the gods.However, the Greek way of looking at life was a frustrated thinking.To them everything was a god. They had  a plethora of gods; utopia,cacotopia, Thespis, muse, clio, calypso, and Theodore was a half a god like Gabriel who impregnanted Mary on behalf of God as Joseph the cuckold carpenter patiently looked musing the ballad of a cuckold peasant . So Theodore and Gabriel were godsend.I  have not delved to know what it means among the Jews, But am aware of the the cultural and anthropological surroundings of the name Theodore in Germany . It is a name of a male person  signifying extra-masculine behavior. I also write poetry in Deutsch, so i know  substantial cultural values of the people of Germany.  Like in this case the modern  social  naming systems . I am aware of the anthropology of this Deutsch nomenclatural position.Why would link this name to Greeks but not Germany may due to  some silent social and emotional  disposition in Europe  that the  English speaking Europeans have a soft spot for  the Greek culture.While at the same time they become victims of high adrenaline level when exposed to anything Germany. they always get repulsed when the word Germany is mentioned.So one's  thesis on nomenclatural values of the name Theodore depends on which side of European  consciousness one is found; is it Germany friendly consciousness or Germany threatened consciousness? The dystopic component of the name Theodore is purely cacotopic with zero element of utopia , as extra-masculinity is a swine of  engendered civilization  all the times. Yours Alexander  k  Opicho NB/ i kindly  invite Theodore to come to  Kenya so that we do a joint research on the Swahili perspectives of the name Theodore, in Kiswahili the name Theodore  is subverted to bwana tadayo
0
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 10:57 AM UTC
poetic dystopia and the name theodore
The name Theodore has its Greek anthropologies, Jewish anthropologies and also Germany anthropologies. The Greek anthropological perspective of The name Theodore indeed has something to do with the gods.However, the Greek way of looking at life was a frustrated thinking.To them everything was a god. They had  a plethora of gods; utopia,cacotopia, Thespis, muse, clio, calypso, and Theodore was a half a god like Gabriel who impregnanted Mary on behalf of God as Joseph the cuckold carpenter patiently looked musing the ballad of a cuckold peasant . So Theodore and Gabriel were godsend.I  have not delved to know what it means among the Jews, But am aware of the the cultural and anthropological surroundings of the name Theodore in Germany . It is a name of a male person  signifying extra-masculine behavior. I also write poetry in Deutsch, so i know  substantial cultural values of the people of Germany.  Like in this case the modern  social  naming systems . I am aware of the anthropology of this Deutsch nomenclatural position.Why would link this name to Greeks but not Germany may due to  some silent social and emotional  disposition in Europe  that the  English speaking Europeans have a soft spot for  the Greek culture.While at the same time they become victims of high adrenaline level when exposed to anything Germany. they always get repulsed when the word Germany is mentioned.So one's  thesis on nomenclatural values of the name Theodore depends on which side of European  consciousness one is found; is it Germany friendly consciousness or Germany threatened consciousness? The dystopic component of the name Theodore is purely cacotopic with zero element of utopia , as extra-masculinity is a swine of  engendered civilization  all the times. Yours Alexander  k  Opicho NB/ i kindly  invite Theodore to come to  Kenya so that we do a joint research on the Swahili perspectives of the name Theodore, in Kiswahili the name Theodore  is subverted to bwana tadayo
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4
so, with israel being re-established... why do we, us,hit europeans... even need to bother establishing authority,          utilißing the new testament? i quiete like the old testament logic of: oculus per oculus                    (eye for an eye)... because the saxon concept of justice: i rather see... the implosion of    blackstone's formulation... the 10:1 imploding to the 1:10 ratio of...       a shawshank redemption... there is... redemption... since! there's no justice within the post scriptum of the hillsborough disaster... watching people walk, the lunatic walk, 20 years later?    disorientated by the court of justice?     re-dem-ption... the whole aspect of: innocent until proven guilty is horrid! this... saxon vernacular of that branch of philosophy that's bogus... namely... within origins      of the forbidden fruit... i.e. and you know?!     really?!       no... but i'll **** to make a standing pivot of a pawn on a chess-board.                           savvy? who, among the europeans... actually needs such artifacts as new testament texts, credo, orthodoxy, sign of the cross greek exports?              the state of israel has been re-established...       i don't want anything to do with this judeo-grecian banality... you can have you little affair over                                 n        e                                                 w                                  s... don't worry... i'll make sure that i'm watching... people tell a lie... yeah: hum hum bubbly hum-hum... am i, or are there any arizona inbreds? who, the hell, needs, the news testament, within the confines of history, dispossessing europe of it, of an established jewish state?       one book among many... hence the scent of a yawn...                          when entering a library... i'll do one gesture, and one gesture alone... inclined to a replica...     ecce libra!              i wash my hands from                   having any investment in it. **** the greeks can have it...       they can keep it, cherish it, but they better not spaghetti the old testament with their... "ingenious" plot... not when the nag hammadi library emerged...       no... not now... not ever...         i detest this greek book of overt symbolism...   their pristine alphabet, their diacritical application,   with the pseudo-romans toying with: deaf... or blind... whichever it is... sandpaper... instead of a kangaroo pouch... of inflated... soft... flesh? i'll rip your heart out and feed it to my neighbour's dog,                   beside a bowl of water.
0
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
ecce libra! re-emergence of israel **** liber)
so, with israel being re-established... why do we, us,hit europeans... even need to bother establishing authority,          utilißing the new testament? i quiete like the old testament logic of: oculus per oculus                    (eye for an eye)... because the saxon concept of justice: i rather see... the implosion of    blackstone's formulation... the 10:1 imploding to the 1:10 ratio of...       a shawshank redemption... there is... redemption... since! there's no justice within the post scriptum of the hillsborough disaster... watching people walk, the lunatic walk, 20 years later?    disorientated by the court of justice?     re-dem-ption... the whole aspect of: innocent until proven guilty is horrid! this... saxon vernacular of that branch of philosophy that's bogus... namely... within origins      of the forbidden fruit... i.e. and you know?!     really?!       no... but i'll **** to make a standing pivot of a pawn on a chess-board.                           savvy? who, among the europeans... actually needs such artifacts as new testament texts, credo, orthodoxy, sign of the cross greek exports?              the state of israel has been re-established...       i don't want anything to do with this judeo-grecian banality... you can have you little affair over                                 n        e                                                 w                                  s... don't worry... i'll make sure that i'm watching... people tell a lie... yeah: hum hum bubbly hum-hum... am i, or are there any arizona inbreds? who, the hell, needs, the news testament, within the confines of history, dispossessing europe of it, of an established jewish state?       one book among many... hence the scent of a yawn...                          when entering a library... i'll do one gesture, and one gesture alone... inclined to a replica...     ecce libra!              i wash my hands from                   having any investment in it. **** the greeks can have it...       they can keep it, cherish it, but they better not spaghetti the old testament with their... "ingenious" plot... not when the nag hammadi library emerged...       no... not now... not ever...         i detest this greek book of overt symbolism...   their pristine alphabet, their diacritical application,   with the pseudo-romans toying with: deaf... or blind... whichever it is... sandpaper... instead of a kangaroo pouch... of inflated... soft... flesh? i'll rip your heart out and feed it to my neighbour's dog,                   beside a bowl of water.
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86
"Alexander son of Philip, and the Greeks except the Lacedaemonians--" We can very well imagine that they were utterly indifferent in Sparta to this inscription. "Except the Lacedaemonians", but naturally. The Spartans were not to be led and ordered about as precious servants. Besides a panhellenic campaign without a Spartan king as a leader would not have appeared very important. O, of course "except the Lacedaemonians." This too is a stand. Understandable. Thus, except the Lacedaemonians at Granicus; and then at Issus; and in the final battle, where the formidable army was swept away that the Persians had massed at Arbela: which had set out from Arbela for victory, and was swept away. And out of the remarkable panhellenic campaign, victorious, brilliant, celebrated, glorious as no other had ever been glorified, the incomparable: we emerged; a great new Greek world. We; the Alexandrians, the Antiocheans, the Seleucians, and the numerous rest of the Greeks of Egypt and Syria, and of Media, and Persia, and the many others. With our extensive territories, with the varied action of thoughtful adaptations. And the Common Greek Language we carried to the heart of Bactria, to the Indians. As if we were to talk of Lacedaemonians now!
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5.2k
In 200 B.C.
And so it seems I sleep with the enemy  We walk in propetual summers glow And so it seems I'm somewhat ahead of me The world has still yet to know  Of calm the sea and Hades wreath  Wild followers of goat skinned sweets  Claim the bow to complex and scowl  To side with such Trojans or companion Greeks?
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Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 12:15 AM UTC
Zeus' Journal
Anybody that is anybody knows the most fabulous and trendy accessory are socks. Crew, No-Show, Knee high. The ever versatile socks are the most righteous thing. The Ancient Greeks may have had some dark ages, but they were the first people that we know of that thought, Hey shoes are cool, but what if we made them more flexible and soft. Thus the mighty sock was born. Now there are some of you who may think completely different about socks. Maybe they are boring, or annoying. You are feeling the Albert Einstein side of socks. (He didn’t wear socks because he didn’t see the point, tragic huh?) Well friends, though you may be genius you are completely idiotic. Socks are little hugs wrapped around your feet. All day. They are like butterfly kisses that mae you smile every time you look down. What is better than that? The answer is nothing. Queen Freaking Elizabeth loved socks and went to the inventor of the knitting machine (which was originally created to make socks) to have custom socks made. Not only are socks just incredibly wonderful and stylish, they were invented to help save the world… from sticky feet. Socks help prevent your human sweat drops from seeping into your shoes, making a perfect nesting place for the teenage mutant ninja turtles. Disgusing In conclusion, nothing can or ever will be more awe founding or perfect than socks
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Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
socks
In the year 480 B.C., King Leonidas of Sparta lead 300 Spartan soldiers to the mountain pass of Thermopylae. They came face to face with over 200,000 Persians under King Xerxes of the great Persian Empire, whose archers so multiple, their arrows blocked out the sun. Bravely the Spartans fought, with no thought of surrender. After three days of brutal fighting, tens of thousands of Persians lay dead, yet the Spartans still remain. Then a local resident becomes a traitor, revealing to the Persians a mountain path that lead behind Greek lines. Surrounded, Leonidas sends Greek soldiers back to Sparta to tell of a great victory, that he knew would never be. Valiantly the Spartans stand by their king, and fight to the death. So today, even though the Greeks lost the battle, it is better known for the bravery of a Spartan king and his 300 soldiers.
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Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
The 300
The battle was imminent. The forces were joined. No longer was time standing idle. Outnumber and ****** by 100 to 1, the Spartans stood fervid and vital. The Greeks were united, though the Spartans alone were the ones charged with their protection. At Thermopylae pass, 300 men stood together in imperfect perfection. "Surrender your arms" King Xerxes demanded, "Surrender, and let the Persians betake them." Leonidas replied "Molon Labe!" my foe, "If you want them, then you come and take them."
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Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 8:45 AM UTC
"Molon Labe!"
It’s a new day dawning yet we’re still living in the past Embracing colonialism and saving the rest for last You know, the rest meaning the other cultures because you think they don’t matter But it’s time for that glass of classism and racism to shatter It’s funny how when I go to University I’m rarely taught by people who look like me No matter how much the white lecturers may try, they will never understand my cultural identity So don’t get mad if I doze off in your lecture because I just can’t relate If I speak up I may start the great debate Learning about Ancient Greeks and those who lived in Rome is fine But what about the indigenous people of the Caribbean or stories of what went through the slave’s mind? University is more than just learning about what makes Western culture great There’s more to this world that we can truly celebrate America and Haiti both had a revolution So if we want to make a change we need to come up with a solution It’s a new day dawning and we plan to decolonise Despite our obstacles, we will rise
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Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC
It's A New Day Dawning
That unforgiving metal. Within that unforgiving metal lies all the things you cannot forgive about yourself. Those freckles on your chin that you wish would expand into a constellation so that you may give them names and so that you may give them meaning, within that unforgiving metal. The Greeks threw their hands towards the heavens and deemed cosmic accidents worthy of the names of gods, although within them lie no gifts. Like a bedazzled and jaded Tiresias impostor one stumbles upon on their way home, who sees nothing but the tangible and tells all but the truth. Still, he is clad in diamonds and gold and thus has value in trade. Beauty triumphs over mendacity and mendacity over reality. But the freckles that mar your skin, that you cannot transfigure into the most meaningless of stars or the crudest of answers, sit there defiantly, waiting to be acknowledged and waiting to be named. You lean your forehead forward to rest against the cool smoothness of its idle twin. You could swear you saw her sneer at you. The freckles do not budge—they will consume you whole.
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Aug 20, 2021
Aug 20, 2021 at 6:41 PM UTC
A Cliché Metaphor About Freckles and Stars
I am alone with you. A fire burns in the distance It lights our faces As before in the empty cinema, Where we arrived, at some beginning To watch a foreign film. Our eyes, In new utterance, murmuring subtitles,   What words could never speak The tips of seats, rows of air And the moony screen, A tableau of feathers and cloud Two of us, alone, as one Rapt in the spread of wings. Later, alone we dine in the Café   Campagne. Our conversation   Deafens a burgeoning crowd Coffee was nectar, our words   Were whispering petals. Dearest Blodeuwedd, I saw the sweetest   Sorrow on your face, the green ocean In your eyes, I was cleansed   By your tears.  I have always Known you. Across the border on the far island, You stepped into the waters with me And when you disrobed you lit the stars And the stars and my eyes kissed your skin Your slender legs, columns that taught   The Greeks in Helens age, touched the water   And the sky. I saw the milky way that night. Síneánn, I am your Pablo We are two white birds sailing Over the foam of the sea. Solvent to my stone you are the hinge   To my casement world.  Rain petal Voice, lithe, alabaster woman, I am lost in your Sargasso eyes   I hold your skin, my Selkie Sweet Niamh, I have lived   One hundred years this week. It is warm in the distance In the country of the sun We end at the house in Umbria In the autumn, there is no word Siberia, my light Rosaleen. Now is harvest time.   At the great table we feast   With family and friends   And I am not alone with you.
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Jun 3, 2012
Jun 3, 2012 at 2:32 AM UTC
Síneánn
I am alone with you. A fire burns in the distance It lights our faces As before in the empty cinema, Where we arrived, at some beginning To watch a foreign film. Our eyes, In new utterance, murmuring subtitles,   What words could never speak The tips of seats, rows of air And the moony screen, A tableau of feathers and cloud Two of us, alone, as one Rapt in the spread of wings. Later, alone we dine in the Café   Campagne. Our conversation   Deafens a burgeoning crowd Coffee was nectar, our words   Were whispering petals. Dearest Blodeuwedd, I saw the sweetest   Sorrow on your face, the green ocean In your eyes, I was cleansed   By your tears.  I have always Known you. Across the border on the far island, You stepped into the waters with me And when you disrobed you lit the stars And the stars and my eyes kissed your skin Your slender legs, columns that taught   The Greeks in Helens age, touched the water   And the sky. I saw the milky way that night. Síneánn, I am your Pablo We are two white birds sailing Over the foam of the sea. Solvent to my stone you are the hinge   To my casement world.  Rain petal Voice, lithe, alabaster woman, I am lost in your Sargasso eyes   I hold your skin, my Selkie Sweet Niamh, I have lived   One hundred years this week. It is warm in the distance In the country of the sun We end at the house in Umbria In the autumn, there is no word Siberia, my light Rosaleen. Now is harvest time.   At the great table we feast   With family and friends   And I am not alone with you.
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I love the church: its labara, its silver vessels, its candleholders, the lights, the ikons, the pulpit. Whenever I go there, into a church of the Greeks, with its aroma of incense, its liturgical chanting and harmony, the majestic presence of the priests, dazzling in their ornate vestments, the solemn rhythm of their gestures- my thoughts turn to the great glories of our race, to the splendor of our Byzantine heritage.
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3.1k
In Church
Valiant are you who fought and fell gloriously; fearless of those who were everywhere victorious. Blameless, even if Diaeos and Critolaos were at fault. When the Greeks want to boast, "Our nation turns out such men" they will say of you. And thus marvellous will be your praise. -- Written in Alexandria by an Achaean; in the seventh year of Ptolemy Lathyrus.
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3k
Those Who Fought For The Achaean League
I am ashamed that I am Spanish because of Franco I am ashamed that I am French because of Algeria I am ashamed that I am Algerian because of France I am ashamed that I am American because of Bush, Iraq and the bloodshed once among brothers I am ashamed that I am Russian because of Stalin, Gulag and recently of this and that I am ashamed that I am German because of ****** clearly (Pol *** appears more and more seldom in the lists, but one is horrified, humanly ashamed, remembering) I am ashamed that I am English because of football etc I am ashamed that I am Polish — only when I am not proud I am ashamed that I am Turkish, but then there are Kurds... I am ashamed that I am Czech and allowed myself to be stifled (I am just as ashamed myself — some say, who feel shame in its extremity and hide weapons in pantries, waiting for that moment in which they wash away their shame with the blood of traditional enemies) I am ashamed that I am Orthodox or Catholic and I wedge and split the mountain on which Jesus bled — before others made even smaller pieces out of his Golgotha below I am ashamed that I am Indian because... well, it’s no matter I am ashamed that being Macedonian I let the Greeks be even more I am ashamed that I am Korean and one of Kim Ir Sen’s I am ashamed that I am Korean no matter where, as long as Kim Ir Sen’s Koreans remain I am ashamed that I am Serbian, but... let me think I am ashamed that I am Chinese because: ‘You’re Chinese?’ I am ashamed that I am Romanian because of Ceausescu, Dracula of course and now, God, all these Romanians all over the world... I am ashamed of my nation even when I am not ashamed — but each of us seeks to forget something I am ashamed because .......... [Everyone: fill in the blanks, write yours here!] but you, but you — you, only you you, whose nation filled the desolate earth with life and kindness you are the man who begins the new day today with your first step Ioana Ieronim
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Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
"To Friends"
I am ashamed that I am Spanish because of Franco I am ashamed that I am French because of Algeria I am ashamed that I am Algerian because of France I am ashamed that I am American because of Bush, Iraq and the bloodshed once among brothers I am ashamed that I am Russian because of Stalin, Gulag and recently of this and that I am ashamed that I am German because of ****** clearly (Pol *** appears more and more seldom in the lists, but one is horrified, humanly ashamed, remembering) I am ashamed that I am English because of football etc I am ashamed that I am Polish — only when I am not proud I am ashamed that I am Turkish, but then there are Kurds... I am ashamed that I am Czech and allowed myself to be stifled (I am just as ashamed myself — some say, who feel shame in its extremity and hide weapons in pantries, waiting for that moment in which they wash away their shame with the blood of traditional enemies) I am ashamed that I am Orthodox or Catholic and I wedge and split the mountain on which Jesus bled — before others made even smaller pieces out of his Golgotha below I am ashamed that I am Indian because... well, it’s no matter I am ashamed that being Macedonian I let the Greeks be even more I am ashamed that I am Korean and one of Kim Ir Sen’s I am ashamed that I am Korean no matter where, as long as Kim Ir Sen’s Koreans remain I am ashamed that I am Serbian, but... let me think I am ashamed that I am Chinese because: ‘You’re Chinese?’ I am ashamed that I am Romanian because of Ceausescu, Dracula of course and now, God, all these Romanians all over the world... I am ashamed of my nation even when I am not ashamed — but each of us seeks to forget something I am ashamed because .......... [Everyone: fill in the blanks, write yours here!] but you, but you — you, only you you, whose nation filled the desolate earth with life and kindness you are the man who begins the new day today with your first step Ioana Ieronim
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We knew thee of old, Oh divinely restored, By the light of thine eyes And the light of thy Sword. From the graves of our slain Shall thy valour prevail As we greet thee again— Hail, Liberty! Hail! Long time didst thou dwell Mid the peoples that mourn, Awaiting some voice That should bid thee return. Ah, slow broke that day And no man dared call, For the shadow of tyranny Lay over all: And we saw thee sad-eyed, The tears on thy cheeks While thy raiment was dyed In the blood of the Greeks. Yet, behold now thy sons With impetuous breath Go forth to the fight Seeking Freedom or Death. From the graves of our slain Shall thy valour prevail As we greet thee again— Hail, Liberty! Hail!
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2.9k
The Greek National Anthem
Rise! Oh, Mighty Jupiter; Our Father now forgotten. Come claim your rightful reverence. Your pagan pedigree misgotten. You were once our Shining Father; Great King of all the Sky. But you allowed your world to set so a new Son could arise. Zeus once ruled before you, and Jesus became your heir. Today not many realize how we got from here to there. I have considered for some moments how our thoughts of god do change. Plural notions of so long ago, today can seem so strange. We like to think we've come so far, since those pagan days of yore. Have we abandoned superstition or just embraced it even more? It was millennia ago that Zeus ruled Mount Olympus. He, their leader, more than father, often beaten by hubris. The Greeks, they worshiped leaders, seeking standing in this forum. Such desires, democratic became their gods that ruled before them. As the centuries moved on, your new Latin home was Roma. Your title too, transformed to reflect a new persona. To Zeus we added "Father", or in Latin, pater, we prefer. So Zeus, becomes Zeus-pater, Zupater, then Jupiter. Our names for gods reveal exactly how they fill our needs. Over time our needs evolve and so a new name supersedes. As Rome aged, it developed   a need to know god as a man. To be one of his number. To see themselves as of his clan. This zeus, he can be talked to, can be greeted and be known. They "Hail Zeus" as HeyZeus. And now its Jesus on the Throne. Through such inquests we can see the needs Gods fill evolving, from cold, covetous Kings to a begotten Son absolving. We imagine in the Heavens things to help us understand, how a universe so endless can be the realm alone of man.
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Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 5:53 PM UTC
Jupiter Ascending
Rise! Oh, Mighty Jupiter; Our Father now forgotten. Come claim your rightful reverence. Your pagan pedigree misgotten. You were once our Shining Father; Great King of all the Sky. But you allowed your world to set so a new Son could arise. Zeus once ruled before you, and Jesus became your heir. Today not many realize how we got from here to there. I have considered for some moments how our thoughts of god do change. Plural notions of so long ago, today can seem so strange. We like to think we've come so far, since those pagan days of yore. Have we abandoned superstition or just embraced it even more? It was millennia ago that Zeus ruled Mount Olympus. He, their leader, more than father, often beaten by hubris. The Greeks, they worshiped leaders, seeking standing in this forum. Such desires, democratic became their gods that ruled before them. As the centuries moved on, your new Latin home was Roma. Your title too, transformed to reflect a new persona. To Zeus we added "Father", or in Latin, pater, we prefer. So Zeus, becomes Zeus-pater, Zupater, then Jupiter. Our names for gods reveal exactly how they fill our needs. Over time our needs evolve and so a new name supersedes. As Rome aged, it developed   a need to know god as a man. To be one of his number. To see themselves as of his clan. This zeus, he can be talked to, can be greeted and be known. They "Hail Zeus" as HeyZeus. And now its Jesus on the Throne. Through such inquests we can see the needs Gods fill evolving, from cold, covetous Kings to a begotten Son absolving. We imagine in the Heavens things to help us understand, how a universe so endless can be the realm alone of man.
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Who's kidding? The world kinda ***** a lot. Pardon my melodrama, but I feel justified as the Greeks were famous for it. And I'm straight up feeling like Apollo. Because: I've given up on the usual moan-and-groans of a daily wake up routine. The sun a peeled tangerine, tasting so sweet and new, and is too far away to really care when things become navy blue. I just want to radiate like that. And I'm absolutely going to. No matter how much the world ***** I'll keep ******* on that tangerine.
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 11:37 AM UTC
Tangerine Apollo
the Hebrews call the Greek myth of Icarus by name: Lucifer - i know man is prone to plagiarism, esp. in the religious realm, the easier the plagiarism the easier the governing of men - for indeed the Hebrews claimed Icarus prior to the Greeks, the former with Lucifer and the latter with Icarus - but how i loathe peasants claiming medicinal endeavours of knowing only the spotlight cursors to curate and environmental care of origin of such negated ease, they have no knowledge and no power, their interests in the subject matter would never encourage them to run a marathon for accumulating funds for a cancer charity - one word answer? ***** they're basically ***** should have engaged in a family life before you blamed me m.d.! take your regressive anger and shove it up your little bee magnet **** to take a **** like extracting honey - now i'm ****** but look where i'm writing it: on a colour of defeat - militant heaven of the archangel Michael sword in hand and Satan defeated waggling a tongue - isn't that importune to speak of the current times with the defence of a freedom of speech subdued by a fear of insult demanding? monotheism did as much good as it shouldn't have - and did as much evil as it should have - and did, crafting the strict labouring of judaism's orthodoxy - so for each niqab there came the madness of a jewish girl's care for wig - translated into christianity as the donning of wigs in the 18th century, and the 17th - bypass the concerns of monotheists and you came across cuisine freedoms of mandarin, and the colour backlash sprinkling to a billionth birth, a land where the homeless have a mother kamadhenu - and celebrate Holi for chance of extracted mundane hue of man polarised with fluorescent ivy and x-rayed orange... or that's how the thing was said.
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Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 9:25 PM UTC
the Hebrew Icarus
the Hebrews call the Greek myth of Icarus by name: Lucifer - i know man is prone to plagiarism, esp. in the religious realm, the easier the plagiarism the easier the governing of men - for indeed the Hebrews claimed Icarus prior to the Greeks, the former with Lucifer and the latter with Icarus - but how i loathe peasants claiming medicinal endeavours of knowing only the spotlight cursors to curate and environmental care of origin of such negated ease, they have no knowledge and no power, their interests in the subject matter would never encourage them to run a marathon for accumulating funds for a cancer charity - one word answer? ***** they're basically ***** should have engaged in a family life before you blamed me m.d.! take your regressive anger and shove it up your little bee magnet **** to take a **** like extracting honey - now i'm ****** but look where i'm writing it: on a colour of defeat - militant heaven of the archangel Michael sword in hand and Satan defeated waggling a tongue - isn't that importune to speak of the current times with the defence of a freedom of speech subdued by a fear of insult demanding? monotheism did as much good as it shouldn't have - and did as much evil as it should have - and did, crafting the strict labouring of judaism's orthodoxy - so for each niqab there came the madness of a jewish girl's care for wig - translated into christianity as the donning of wigs in the 18th century, and the 17th - bypass the concerns of monotheists and you came across cuisine freedoms of mandarin, and the colour backlash sprinkling to a billionth birth, a land where the homeless have a mother kamadhenu - and celebrate Holi for chance of extracted mundane hue of man polarised with fluorescent ivy and x-rayed orange... or that's how the thing was said.
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(for the unknown You) – Sweep up a mound of achievements; layer dogwood and newspaper beneath; find a small, secluded shoreline to sleep an endless sleep; shovel money (in at least twenty currencies), some status and fame onto the funeral pyre’s unremembering flame; write furiously with computer or pen, fill out the days’ whitespace with enthusiastic fantasy; revel on a fallacy (or three); win the gladiatorial games in the Corporate Arena; rediscover a bit of ancient folklore; set up nice altruistic societies to make orphans feel infinite; plant a little garden – give guidance in its growth; build four or five fine-but-small boats with richly decorated keels; fight for something worth believing, though I’m still unsure what that means… A(my) guess: lyricism and poetry and prose, musical composition, simply being kind and open; A suggestion(for You): lay Your hand on a patient’s slowing heart in a cancer ward, catch their tears with a jar and meditate on better things to do; give the old folks a laugh; steal the Elgin Marbles back for the Greeks, or, for the memory of ancient Greece; find where lay a psychopathic fascist’s bitter ashes and give them to the conspirators for closure; (for me) place letters on the graves of John Keats, Percy Shelley, Wystan Auden and William Yeats; rescind, abolish, annul, invalidate my station in God’s dysphoric, existential reverie; heap up beautiful words and send them off to sea inside a laptop on a cellophane-wrapped raft; (for both of us) think thoughts uplifting; smile thirty-three times a day (or more); plan for the future of ourselves and others; give just a bit of love to our mothers; sweep the kitchen and the city streets for free; by your garden plant a tree. Beyond these things for us to do, be proud-yet-humble, open-eyed and acquiescent; just accept; all things inanimate and animate, accept.
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Jul 4, 2012
Jul 4, 2012 at 7:58 AM UTC
Things to do
(for the unknown You) – Sweep up a mound of achievements; layer dogwood and newspaper beneath; find a small, secluded shoreline to sleep an endless sleep; shovel money (in at least twenty currencies), some status and fame onto the funeral pyre’s unremembering flame; write furiously with computer or pen, fill out the days’ whitespace with enthusiastic fantasy; revel on a fallacy (or three); win the gladiatorial games in the Corporate Arena; rediscover a bit of ancient folklore; set up nice altruistic societies to make orphans feel infinite; plant a little garden – give guidance in its growth; build four or five fine-but-small boats with richly decorated keels; fight for something worth believing, though I’m still unsure what that means… A(my) guess: lyricism and poetry and prose, musical composition, simply being kind and open; A suggestion(for You): lay Your hand on a patient’s slowing heart in a cancer ward, catch their tears with a jar and meditate on better things to do; give the old folks a laugh; steal the Elgin Marbles back for the Greeks, or, for the memory of ancient Greece; find where lay a psychopathic fascist’s bitter ashes and give them to the conspirators for closure; (for me) place letters on the graves of John Keats, Percy Shelley, Wystan Auden and William Yeats; rescind, abolish, annul, invalidate my station in God’s dysphoric, existential reverie; heap up beautiful words and send them off to sea inside a laptop on a cellophane-wrapped raft; (for both of us) think thoughts uplifting; smile thirty-three times a day (or more); plan for the future of ourselves and others; give just a bit of love to our mothers; sweep the kitchen and the city streets for free; by your garden plant a tree. Beyond these things for us to do, be proud-yet-humble, open-eyed and acquiescent; just accept; all things inanimate and animate, accept.
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44
Going Off To War (a/k/a Washing The Dishes) When its time to wash the dishes, I make proper preparations for this serious business, I strip down to my skivvies (shorts, in a prior generation) Cause there will plenty blood and gore afore too long Soap and water flying about, the ceilings and the walls, Not to mention big, big puddles on the floor. Multi-colored sponges of sizes varied, Some Brillo-sided, like extra armor on a tank, By Dawn's early light, turn the clear water Into a heaving, breathing soapy concoction. Woebegone and woe betide, dried and sticky maple syrup, You are no match for super-strength orange dishwashing solution, Of the Greeks did praise, a single dollop packs a mighty wallop! Ain't afraid of any stain, decomposing, half chewed, culinary rejection. Don't even bother with rubber gloves, cause that's for sissies. The dirtier the better, cause I love the sounds of All out war, the rushing water, the futile screams of Grease departing this world, down the rabbit hole, My gleaming, victorious sinking of the enemy shipping You think I am the first to celebrate in verse This storied fight of right over dirt? Recall please this famed couplet, for now be known its true inspiration! "Oh, say can you see by the Dawn's early light What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?" Though Men Like to Load the Dishwasher (You Didn't Know?) Is another poem of a similar ilk, when technology is unavailable, It is fact verifiable and unassailable, That if you give a man some room and some privacy, Ignore the shouts and war cries from the kitchen emanating, Male aggression can best be expiated, When playing war games in the kitchen, a live action movie, A video game that never grows tiresome, And violence is necessary, for the enemy's complete annihilation. Thank you my dear, no medal need be awarded, Scored this poem as my just reward.
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May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 12:23 PM UTC
Men Going Off To War (a/k/a Washing The Dishes)
Going Off To War (a/k/a Washing The Dishes) When its time to wash the dishes, I make proper preparations for this serious business, I strip down to my skivvies (shorts, in a prior generation) Cause there will plenty blood and gore afore too long Soap and water flying about, the ceilings and the walls, Not to mention big, big puddles on the floor. Multi-colored sponges of sizes varied, Some Brillo-sided, like extra armor on a tank, By Dawn's early light, turn the clear water Into a heaving, breathing soapy concoction. Woebegone and woe betide, dried and sticky maple syrup, You are no match for super-strength orange dishwashing solution, Of the Greeks did praise, a single dollop packs a mighty wallop! Ain't afraid of any stain, decomposing, half chewed, culinary rejection. Don't even bother with rubber gloves, cause that's for sissies. The dirtier the better, cause I love the sounds of All out war, the rushing water, the futile screams of Grease departing this world, down the rabbit hole, My gleaming, victorious sinking of the enemy shipping You think I am the first to celebrate in verse This storied fight of right over dirt? Recall please this famed couplet, for now be known its true inspiration! "Oh, say can you see by the Dawn's early light What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?" Though Men Like to Load the Dishwasher (You Didn't Know?) Is another poem of a similar ilk, when technology is unavailable, It is fact verifiable and unassailable, That if you give a man some room and some privacy, Ignore the shouts and war cries from the kitchen emanating, Male aggression can best be expiated, When playing war games in the kitchen, a live action movie, A video game that never grows tiresome, And violence is necessary, for the enemy's complete annihilation. Thank you my dear, no medal need be awarded, Scored this poem as my just reward.
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