Saturday, March 2, 2013

The Trojan War Cycle: four cardinal points

I.           Casus Belli: Paris Clothed in the Sun
II.       Outlier: Odysseus, MIA
III.   Outlier: Agamemnon, Veteran of Foreign Wars
IV.    Outlier: Helen, Displaced Person  

Casus Belli:  Paris, Clothed in the Sun

Cattle Chant

dawn-bearing daughters of Helios,
dawn-bearing daughters

trail white robes above
cattle flocks
trail white robes

& reckon the price
of the three-hundred sixty
reckon the price

lady behold Paris
clothed in the sun

clothed in the light of the
ring-dancing sun

lady behold the light dancing
not on shapes of warriors
not on shapes of warriors

but on Paris who goes
as if to a dance
on Paris who comes
as if to the dance

day-carting cattle of Helios
day-carting cattle
trail white flocks over
dun-colored hills
trail white flocks

& meander your thoughts
along dusky rims
meander your thoughts

& beckon the dancers
over hilltops
beckon the dancers

Outlier:  Odysseus, MIA


trees are heavy with swell
luxury, lilacs
twist and bend

sheer torque of day

nor do I spot birds in the branches
when catching their high notes,
their homely phrases
discrete at the margins

nor do I see city folk
passing beneath my window,
heels striking pavement
like an axe

old cables woven in among the
hum a human hum:
inside: wordless voices

atop tall poles
birds still peck
rotting wood

trees are top-heavy with their
luxury, and notes
mix and rise

around the top-mast
wheel birds,
plying song;
I’m roughly bound –
longing bound
by cables.

we spin out to sea –
do they beckon me?
or reckon me?

insinuating their song,
sensuous throng –
sense of right,
sense of wrong

for lost lives I sigh
in lost dreams I cry
shattering crystal

hurtling along,

oh my high cry sever
the reins –
give mast its head,
let it part the seas

how far out we are
and you sing me no

in the ocean-blue galaxy
just one white thread

where we glide on the sheer
wonder of  wings

Outlier:  Agamemnon, Veteran of Foreign Wars

B Movie

At an outpost in the Wild Wild West
A cowpoke called Agamemnon
Bridled at cards,
Sidled up to the bar,
Jigged on the brink,
Swigged his drink,
Sagged his face and
Bragged he’d lasso
With a Lobachevsky curve –

He clean forgot to glance over his shoulder
Where darlin’ Clementine dangled a noose
Spun from the crook of her tiny arm:
Empty of child

Outlier:  Helen, Displaced Person


Egyptian Helen, who will know
You flew wreathed in cloud
To Pharos?

The blind heart of Hector
Lost your trace,
Hard-driving smart ax-blows
That set the face

And the heart of your master
Is a dusky cell
Provident of sorrows
More golden than you were

But learning far hope
On the marge of Omphalos,
Hot tears focusing
Wavering space

Is one who will see you
At home in your place,
Husbanding the fire of your
Wild heart.

No comments: