..-

Let Zeus

H. D.

I

I say, I am quite done,
quite done with this;
you smile your calm
inveterate chill smile

and light steps back;
intolerate loveliness
smiles at the ranks
of obdurate bitterness;

you smile with keen
chiselled and frigid lips;
it seems no evil
ever could have been;

so, on the Parthenon,
like splendour keeps
peril at bay,
facing inviolate dawn.

II

Men cannot mar you,
women cannot break
your innate strength,
your stark autocracy;

still I will make no plea
for this slight verse;
it outlines simply
Love’s authority:

but pardon this,
that in these luminous days,
I re-invoke the dark
to frame your praise;

as one to make a bright room
seem more bright,
stares out deliberate
into Cerberus-night.

III

Sometimes I chide the manner of your dress;
I want all men to see the grace of you;
I mock your pace, your body’s insolence,
thinking that all should praise, while obstinate
you still insist your beauty’s gold is clay:

I chide you that you stand not forth entire,
set on bright plinth, intolerably desired;
yet I in turn will cheat, will thwart your whim,
I’ll break my thought, weld it to fit your measure
as one who sets a statue on a height
to show where Hyacinth or Pan have been.

IV

When blight lay and the Persian like a scar,
and death was heavy on Athens, plague and war,
you gave me this bright garment and this ring;

I who still kept of wisdom’s meagre store
a few rare songs and some philosophising,
offered you these for I had nothing more;

that which both Athens and the Persian mocked
you took, as a cold famished bird takes grain,
blown inland through darkness and withering rain.

V

Would you prefer myrrh-flower or cyclamen?
I have them, I could spread them out again;
but now for this stark moment while Love breaths
his tentative breath, as dying, yet still lives,
wait as that time you waited tense with me:

others shall love when Athens lives again,
you waited in the agonies of war;
others will praise when all the host proclaims
Athens the perfect; you, when Athens lost,
stood by her; when the dark perfidious host
turned, it was you who pled for her with death.

VI

Stars wheel in purple, yours is not so rare
as Hesperus, nor yet so great a star
as bright Aldebaran or Sirius,
nor yet the stained and brilliant one of War;

stars turn in purple, glorious to the sight;
yours is not gracious as the Pleiads’ are
nor as Orion’s sapphires, luminous;
yet disenchanted, cold, imperious face,
when all the others, blighted, reel and fall,
your star, steel-set, keeps lone and frigid tryst
to freighted ships, baffled in wind and blast.

VII

None watched with me
who watched his fluttering breath,
none brought white roses,
none the roses red;

many had loved,
had sought him luminous,
when he was blithe
and purple draped his bed;

yet when Love fell
struck down with plague and war,
you lay white myrrh-buds
on the darkened lintel;

you fastened blossom
to the smitten sill;
let Zeus record this,
daring Death to mar.

ego at odds

it was me
  not being wanted or needed
or not being there if i was
   or behaving badly when i was

the first impression…
  that night it was like the sun came out
then in so many seconds swallowed itself back into the deeper dark
  for fear it might turn into a single tear of joy

i said a number of words
  you said an equal amount or more
i’m sure there was eye contact
  and - for my part, anyway - thoughts of being something more than polite

you went away
  i let you go
those thoughts never born as words
  never born to us

we are too much alike

la pensée sauvage

 we are (1)

carried up through the elements
expressed with motion
pronounced by the countours of our bodies
accentuated by environment and force
met with understanding

  friction (2)

moved mountains conveying men
sitting in their dens or on the veranda
sipping tea
not really doing anything else
carrying on in wonder

   fin. (3..)

If (you)

open your eyes (with what's behind them)
and jump
and drop (with General Direction kind of in mind)
		again past familiar signs of trouble
		  eyes postulate (closed now)
                          and watch...                           observe
		 
countless beautiful spirals of interwoven lightsound with themselves spin
your arms outstretched 
air still offers resistance (please? please?)
                         with an abnormal sense of  'quality' time 
		 you would share yourself with the entire world 
			if only you could (and if only you already hadn't)			
				
best make a fine start
crafting reality  (follow through)
a tunnel, tuner/channel (here's where it gets weird)
			you are scattered, sifted
 				and land relatively gently 
				into place

i advise: recycle
pained and damaged (sans spirit, for a spell)
into economical, superusable, and durable ('quality') materials
			your eyes (open again)			
			what's behind them, 
                          unfamiliar?

ever: the new now

above all, i’d trust you if you said not now. the truth is resounding. no need to explain. but i wonder if you’d say not ever when there is a good chance. time changes everything. i love everything about you and i wish you the best.