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Click hereShe glides, naked and piscine,
through a green sea of dreams,
my body towed behind as if hypnotized
by her undulant wake. How can I
trust these wet promises, given
with such alien ease? I have no aides
sealed safe in wax-encrusted ears
to bind me to some mast,
knotted against my low nature.
Only the infirmity of distance
cripples my pursuit, keeps me off
the flinty rock of my desire
that rises, streaming with seaweed,
from the deep, chthonic Id.
I never have been King, nor never shall
be more than subject in this land I own.
Each week in time, I’m wrong to will,
strive, seek, and find, in hope she’ll yield
and that Penelope’s secure at home.
magnifique! I especially liked your "flinty rock of desire". Thankfully there is the Scylla to keep fires from burning up our hero, however mock he may be.
Thank you for the well-thought, and very well executed piece. It gives this place some class.
I am all behind in reading the new poems and the first one I read was this ..... what more could I ask for ? My senses have gone into spasms of delight.
First thing first, Angeline dare I humbly disagree on the wax etc.? Yes, I must :-) to me the self inflicted temporary deafness, combined with the temporary paralysis (achieved by being anchored to the vessel’s main mast) are both part and parcel of this crazy and amazing challenge Ulysses encountered upon meeting the sirens in the midst of his mythological trip as described in Homer’s Odyssey. Only in contrast to the safety measures, the epic hero had taken, can we appreciate the heroism (or could it be carelessness?) of the lonely hero struggling alone with his libidinal urges… <P>
I love rich evocative lines such as: “the flinty rock of my desire/ that rises, streaming with seaweed,/from the deep, chthonic Id.” I’d submit such a poem for the public address at the annual meeting of The Psychoanalytical society… <P>
Oh, and the rich irony at the end. How much trouble always still awaits at home, just when we think we came safely from our travels.. <P>
Tzara, can we have more, like soon? Thanks.
You play with words in such a fascinating way, way too thought provoking for a morning read; best left for the afternoon when the mind is fully awake and can better savor your words.