Le Temps Revient...

Poetry, Music, Art & Ideas for the Archaic Recurrence...

jueves, 5 de septiembre de 2013


The second part of my ode to Greece, in the stanza of Spencer.

Argument: The foundation of the bronze age imperial power Mycenae. Dynasties may change but they will always use the same old excuses to further their gains through war.

The now ruined city of Mycenae
   Was once founded by Perseus of fame, 
   Who rode the wingèd horse elegantly
   And the snakes of Medusa’s hair did tame, 
   He brought low the Kraken, that very same
   Threat to Andromeda, African bride, 
   Whose former suitor he was forced to maim,
   Only the hauntiness of such Greek pride, 
Could indulge romantic rivalry to be set aside.

The house of Perseus soon did give way
   To Atreus’, like all dynasties
   That hardly can last when led far astray.
   Power always needs must feign niceties, 
   Lest people below test its frailties
   And dare to shed the blood thought such a crime. 
   Only the lofty insecurities, 
   Who consider their problems more sublime, 
And for the angst of the many? Haven’t the time!

Kings can be remembered by words & deeds, 
   And Atreus as we know followed suit, 
   Devious butchery, the path to greed’s
   Mad craving, the state coffers he did loot, 
   While holding opinion beneath his boot, 
   Fathered two young sons who’d even outdo
   His own despicable vice, a deep root
   Of wretched corruption had therein grew, 
Agamemnon & Menelaus, they the two.

Brothers looking to further their domains, 
   Marry sisters equal in chastity,
   One rules Mycenae, one in Sparta reigns, 
   Perfect vision of royal harmony, 
   Set aloof to an Orphic symphony,
   Till marital discord of course results
   In husband’s scorn! Resort to armoury, 
   Harsh bronze, the brutal payback for insults,
Of Paris, Helen & Aphrodite’s gentle cults.

Hardly impractical Helen once back
   In her place at Menelaus’ side, 
   Set to make up for all the former lack
   Of love he’d had, his comrades who’d died
   Below the walls of Troy and supplied
   A metaphor of frustrated desire,
   Helen ever the seductive queen lied,
   And won over his hapless unquenched fire,
Weaving her way, exulting him all the higher.

Ελλαδα I-VII

The first part of my ode to Greece. In the stanza of Spencer.

Argument: Economic crisis, corruption and resilience of common people are by no means new things to the Greeks.

Let present day fancies tell proud story, 
   Days of yore fond embattled angst, 
   Of olden times regaled in glory, 
   Far-sighted Aegean heroes glanced, 
   Heroines enchanting beauty danced, 
   Feelings full of another moral age, 
   Against our own narrowly distanced, 
   High-minded decadence suffuses rage,
Undignified rantings provoke us! Turn the page!

These times of plenty tempt us to squander
   What the wise would so gladly put to use,
   Fortune’s shadow oft’ leads minds to wander
   And power’s shallow willingness abuse,
   The amorous contented fit to lose
   Sight of all that once felt and seemed mighty,
   Overarching hierarchies fall prey, whose
   Vision sees beyond local sovereignty, 
Leads former truth into endless calamity.

Frail uncertainty of future life 
   Has no bearing on an opponent’s fight, 
   Many noble souls’ unrepenting strife, 
   Each attempt descends into darkest night, 
   Every free spirit enchained, denied sight
   Of passions, took us away from that bond,
   Servitude has known not of wrong nor right,
   Deep embittered patience still remained fond
For conceptual beauty! We forever longed!

Then as now stumbling through an era, 
   Eventually to go by the name, 
   A classical age, Apollo’s lyre, 
   Or affinities holding true, the same, 
   Reminiscences, most have always been tame
   Followers, few deserve remembrance, 
   Those who invent another type of game, 
   Set the dice rolling until decadence 
Misuses cultural riches through fat opulence!

All institutions plagiarize anew, 
   Give ethical clarity, sense denied,
   The family where sons & daughters grew, 
   Was founded on a stone deep red blood dyed, 
   Against the instincts obligingly lied, 
   Suit propriety, avoid provocation, 
   True loves passion, forgotten, pushed aside.
   Deadly union, honour’s destitution, 
Mutual wealth poached into cold extinction!

Our world is abound with divine pretenses, 
   That have always sought to hold their harsh sway, 
   Divide unequally, raising fences, 
   To show who is banished and who can stay, 
   Invoking difference between those who’d say,
   That we have no quarrel with each other, no!
   Rather they would try to keep us at bay. 
   Final indictment their weak powers show, 
Lofty in abundance! Yet spiritually low!

High-minded princes, bravery’s fountain, 
   Not always the case we see poets told.
   Men suspicious, unbelieving, doubting, 
   Mythology cut off in days of old.
   The relevance that such tales should hold, 
   Over disparity of meager ways,
   Not caring for eloquence unless sold.
   Something fit to wile away idle days,
The genius amongst us grudgingly displays!