"thetis" poems
III
Slim adolescence that a nymph has stripped,
Peleus on Thetis stares.
Her limbs are delicate as an eyelid,
Love has blinded him with tears;
But Thetis' belly listens.
Down the mountain walls
From where pan's cavern is
Intolerable music falls.
Foul goat-head, brutal arm appear,
Belly, shoulder, ***
Flash fishlike; nymphs and satyrs
Copulate in the foam.
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Not against the peaks of protest, these aurulent banners and jasperated jaspe so so jargoon! It's like I was suddenly alive, beat-stretched out of winter neige and into the pancosmic blisses of bright and ebullient spring, plugged with an agromania to abide this new formidable friend in the aeviternal beauty of she and I togetherness. Never to spill a morsel of a minute away from us again, upon the newly conjured spirits unto us both. To be amidst a cynosure of such affiation, to be in the temperate or tropical gardens whispering about our mutual love for flowers nad lists. This that precedes us, bright colliding auras in this newfound numinous kindling of us two. Watching it, making it happen- it unfolding before me made me naseaus with excitement, dithering what our next move out to be. I just wanted to kiss her face, her cheeks, put our hands together so quickly, just to let our amorous fug fill the room with silver albuminious smoke from our breaths. Miles below this, round the Earth to other places, there are the fixtures of bright and corybantic life commoved by other nations and other poised people of the light, that I should not be idle in my desires to usher myself into this grand and briguing introduction. So she said, we will play the question game, the inquiry game, we will state the mark, draw upon deep and fantastical recall, bring from our minds the most immense truths and share them, no matter now feral, or caustic, or melancholy- they will be shared until we explode with each other, our intrigues wrapped in our perfervid and amatory excitedness for one another. Too vast with wonder to be afraid of- am I such a fiend for such resplendence. That we could be vitrified in eternity in a veil of fulgurite. So at this nightfall, this acronychal of bloviating bliss, to write and wonder, incessantly in the finest of provincial matters to settle this garden where Thetis lives to be of her, two philocalists in verdant pasture, heaped with matters of the pen and the palm, in the droves of this beautiful advesperating eve- where first I wrote to you, and then I wrote you back.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
We interrupt the work of the gods,
hasty and inexperienced beings of the moment.
In the palaces of Eleusis and Phthia
Demeter and Thetis start good works
amid high flames and dense smoke. But
always Metaneira rushes from the king's
chambers, disheveled and scared,
and always Peleus is fearful and interferes.
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‘Allowed Rockies, I understand the empyrean choice
for Olympus—why Jove barred all mortals from knowing the wondrous
high atop a peak—the clear air—thin crisp, ever present
breeze that cuts through the body.
Heracles—transcender from human
to god; immortal fire setting his mortal flesh to ash
to scatter into the dirt so he may sit high upon
deathless Olympus—above man and woman. As the Rockies
stand above the new world—unlike Olympus, the Rockies stand
indiff’rent to the affairs of men and women.
Heracles—
who in wake of Asia’s venture to the cave where the protean
spawn of Jove’s lust upon Thetis befell to veil—unbinds
humanity’s one true immortal patron: Prometheus—
whose only want, and whose only single fault: bestow upon
humanity immortal fire—the spark to enlighten
mental parity with gods.
Embers that burst to flame in the
heart and mind of such a fiery thinker as Zarathustra:
who taught to go over not under—over humanity,
transcend the status quo—climb! Rise above—where the
crisp clean air can whisk away the smog of congestion—congestion
of thought—congestion in all form. Zarathustra who showed
us the bellows to fuel our Promethean gift.
For the
Rockies are not ephemeral; they will stand tall long after
humans are gone; fire will raze their trees without human prevention;
like Heracles, the flames will only burn mortal evergreen
flesh to ash, and the mountains will endure immortal—from that
ash, that darkness life will arise as it always has for millennia.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
your beauty put nations into dispute
trying to benefit from the rewards of your youth
for every treasure there's nothing to spare
they used you, abused you, then left you in despair
you've welcomed other nations to experience your land
but your slaughter is what they've plotted that's what they've planned
never have you ever became selfish of your beauty
but you failed to discern the hands of the greedy
your pillars they shattered into pieces
your temples they burned down to ashes
you called for gods but it is the gods who are the roots
one even turned his back after gaining from your loots
you offered so much but they left you nothing but scars
you gave them beauty they gave you famine and farce
should you have invited Eris?
behold, you're the victim of war between these deities
whoever obtains this apple is the fairest
whoever consumes you will be the greatest
war is the immortals' way to argue
they saw your beauty but they never saw you
one bribed you to rule other nations
another bribed you to be the warrior of your fictions
then one bribed you with your weakness, your ambitions
oh my land, you fell. let me ask you my greatest questions.
who are you?
have you forgotten your identity?
why are you allowing yourself be defined by the words of these false deities
why do you still call your oppressor a hero
until when are you going to stay on this limbo
you are Thetis and Peleus not inviting Eris to avoid strife
but you also are the golden apple causing the immortals seek for your life
you are Paris being promised of your dreams
but you also are Helen the most beautiful woman in the history of regimes
you are the war itself, oh my land
your destiny resides on your hand
you are every character of this myth
of your own sword you are the smith
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 7:15 AM UTC
I have watched her now for forty five long minutes
As she stares out the window
Waiting on a war with worthwhile spoils
I have given up on politness
She follows me to the yard
The pit bull loping at her heels
Outside in the cool night we stand
Gazing at the midnight air traffic
She aligns her body with the north star
And shivers unknowingly in the porch light
She asks my favorite constellation
And I point it out with a lit cigarette
She drinks heavily from Aquarius
The grass is dead and I am only pretending
She is beautiful there is no doubt
As she sits beneath a purple neon bar light
My belly is full of wine and she says my name
Tossing it around drunkenly
like a cheap token she wants to trade
I have to leave this place
People all packed together blowing smoke in each others faces
Laughing loudly at anything but the biggest joke of all
She follows me out the door onto the sidewalk
I hate her eyes for in them lies truth
The cloak and dagger of her kiss
Goodbye
She wraps her coat around herself
Walking away without a word
I should stop her
She should stop
But
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 5:01 AM UTC
She stands by me, she stands by all of us
Shielding with bright the flame of purest truth
Like Thetis gainst the banes, she’s beauteous
Allowing me to grow within my youth
A roaming free through her prairies untamed
Hued with vibrant roses as her stripes red
With lakes most deep and mountains, high most famed
And stars that watch over us when dawn’s dead
America, the guard of all the rest
Brother to the young, mother to her son
An eagle soaring o’er the sky’s blue breast
Daring to claim the fiery, hot sun
Aglimmer with a brazen, nascent zest
And bring it back and lay it in hard pride
America the beauteous and bright
Across the mountains folding ‘gainst the wold
Across the lakes reflecting the deep sky
Across the cities rimmed at night in gold
Is the place where harmony shan’t e’er die
America, the place where sorrows flee
The land of the brave, those who charge to fight
Who fight for what makes America, free
Who fight for what makes America, bright
Who fight against the scourge of dawning hate
We are the folks who lead the world before
Tomorrow, we make America great
America, tis to freedom, the door
America, tis to pure hope, the gate
America, to the future, the tide
America, the beauteous and bright
In times of need, in times of woe and drear
We welcomed all hapless people who fell
Cringing within their dark, wholesome despair
By the black feet of dark the king of hell
This land is land that always share must we
This land is land with laws and judges, just
This land the land of opportunity
This land the land forged together with trust
America, the home of everyone
Who dare to achieve ‘yond the mortal eye
Warden of all, rebuilder of the gone
The eagle who dares to the bright stars, fly
Beyond where rims all space the light of sun
And venture deep into galaxies, wide
America, the beauteous and bright
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 9:35 AM UTC
ACHILLES son of king PELUS of PHTHIA.
From near Thessalia not Sparta.
Born near where you parents married on mount Pelion.
Your mother Thetis a NYMPH known by AGAMENON.
King MENELAUS'S betrayal the Greeks all cross the Aegean.
Odysseus and PATROCLUS an armada some by passing the CRETAN.
Sons of Priam killed and only Odysseus escaped back to Ithica.
The BESIEGING of Troy in a wooden horse from Sparta.
Prince of the Myrmidon's to avenge PATROCLUS it's HECTOR you cut down.
All Troy did burn weak horse lovers they should have fled and in the RIVER STYX they would drown.
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 6:02 AM UTC
I heard the trumpets from too far away.
Labored to save what I had given away.
Pretended to believe and Believed in pretend.
Semper Fidelis to the bitter condescend . . .
I answered the call, made a very important date;
scurried to remember then remembered too late;
embraced my Foe by forgetting my Friend.
What is this ‘This’ of ‘This We’ll defend’?
No Dream was too heavy, no payment too sleight
to abandon in the brilliance of the peaceful light.
So Determined I was to ignore my Fall
and give everything I bemoaned for security Above all.
No borders no boundaries no Heavens no Hell
nothing so precious it could not be given as well.
What use Freedom? What need I of mere Country?
What means Non Sibi Sed Patriae?
Oh Thetis put down your cumbersome sword.
Lift up the blindfold, as we can afford
to lay down courage, honor, duty and walk into the might
of Entitlement for All and for all entitled Night . . .
And Lady Liberty, you are no longer needed;
walk away, walk away, liberty ceded . . .
Here are your chains, Lady, wear them quite well.
Pray speak not of Heaven so we can pretend there’s no Hell.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
O muse and counter-muse; Mother-muse, protector muse--
i am sold.
i agree again.
gloried ****** sung to grey-orange, setting Suns;
dusk of human brains
ticking to the clockwork
deaths of Cultures passing.
the due-dates of a paper-legal
monocultured crop:
cropped
to quarter-halves
mcworlding
grins of bottom-lines.
...entire countries checked,
a people's lives and deaths
are filed into off-shore savings banks
reduced to anti-trust...
what wonder at a child's warrior-role,
with only armies holding out their hands.
upon an ancient Shield:
peoples drowned in fear,
seas of understanding, wild
as the darkened myth-clouds playing coy
to hidden waves of lucid thought.
symbol-caves, lingual-wombs of families yet in tune,
--shadow-crowded politicians shade us huddled there
while Mother-Thetis marks the moment
of our forking fate.
brimstone burns again!?
death as entertainment and a ruse...
i huddle with you there, my Family
formed of Stranger-tongues
and linnet's wings..
i've savored distance from the storm,
settled in communal cowardice,
forcing smiles slowly into numbing real...
but only choice revealed is truly real.
when done with hiding here
the other's ripe for overcoming fear.
.
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
I can never wash away
The image of you
Nor the memory of you
But I can paint it on paper
And throw it into the sea,
So the water will wash it away
And carry it into the world
Of underwater, so Poseidon
Will keep the eye on you
And let you dance with Thetis.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC
Ansí, sagrado mar, nunca te oprima
menos ilustre peso; ansí no veas
entre los altos montes que rodeas
exenta de tu imperio alguna cima;
ni, ofendida, tu blanca espuma gima
agravios de haya humilde, y siempre seas,
como de arenas, rico de preseas,
del que la luna más que el sol estima.
Ansí tu mudo pueblo esté seguro
de la gula solícita, que ampares
de Thetis al amante, al hijo nuevo:
pues en su verde reino y golfo obscuro,
don Luis la sirve, honrando largos mares,
ya de Aquiles valiente, ya de Febo.
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Brought to flowing water
In search of great power.
Submerged, a baby
In a divine river.
I seek for him
To be invincible
For the man who seeded
Me with him is no god.
He must be strong.
My son, hero of all.
Born from me, destined
To be greater than his father.
Thus I come to the border of worlds,
Earth and Hades, the river Styx.
On the bank, now is my chance.
Child in hand, ready to dip.
I hold him by the heel as I put him inside.
I lift him back up, sure of the powers of Styx.
Now invincible, my son’s fate is sealed.
All will know of his name, “Achilles”.
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 4:04 PM UTC