"kleos" poems
The exploration of womanhood,
viewed by a child, who had failed to birth an heir
and was auctioned amidst a war,
to lay beside the man who Lyrnessus heard before it saw,
and felt, before they felt nothing at all.
Plucked from childhood to motherhood,
failed motherhood, into obedience and slavery,
despised by her husband's mother for the absence of life she yearned to grow.
Then veiled in a soft pearlescent,
that blurred, but did not hide, the reason she survived,
and her brothers and husband did not.
Her barren belly proved a blessing when the girls in tents sprouted kleos from their swollen stomachs,
to carry the son of foreigners, bloodthirsty for their native home.
These girls, they are just girls, brainwashed by glory and trauma,
carry children that will slaughter their brothers of blood,
in the name of a woman seen only as a measurement of egotistic revenge.
And what of Briseis?
Aristos Achaion, they cried.
To them, he will always be: the best of the Greeks,
even after Apollo favours the hand of Paris and forges fate to impale the accidental hamartia.
What is her legacy?
Aristos Achaion, they cry.
As the boy who carries his blood rises from the fire and carries forward after his father's body hit the ground.
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 4:01 PM UTC
Just because you now use your spear
as a walking stick, doesn't change
your past's sanguinary veneer
men, women, and children, your range.
All for us to sing of your κλέος,
the shades come back to haunt,
your glory, your fame, your albatross.
dreams of slit throats and screams daunt.
You have given up bloodshed,
we no longer sing your praises,
now you can finally rest your head,
and the enemy thanks you for your hiatus.
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 11:31 AM UTC
A hero and a spirit of death
both hunters looking for their path
on the first look they don't make any change
both looking to prove themselves
but there's only one way
to take the others life away
one with a mission, without any discussions
and one with glory and fame
kleos we name
but what if there was a world without the pressure
a golden treasure
where everything is different…
maybe the myth didn't mean to end his life
but just about opening his eyes
they could be friends without an end
Jun 8, 2025
Jun 8, 2025 at 7:18 AM UTC