Those High, Noble Walls

Staring eyes -- wider than their wild-eyed 
    Horses!                                                 
 Flared nostrils snorting as a stallion's 
  To the gusting wind;                                        
 And against that wind: long, sweptback hair, 
   As black as ravens wings,                                 
Streaming out against the cloudless sky.                                       
    Through these inflamed veins of man and horse --           
 An enraged blood that frantically courses!                  
  A terrifying, primordial force                             
 That plunges in to kill or die.                             

Staring eyes -- wider than the most intense
    Amethyst!                                            
 Flared nostrils betray a sneer prompted by
  Well practised contempt;                                                   
 In the flickering mirror the corners of her mouth 
   Uplifted: an all too apparent cruel abandonment.               
Unbundled her auburn hair, lets it fall;                        
    At that hushed moment all the Gods compelled            
 To shudder at such an awful beauty as is this.               
  And tragic Cassandra who alone would dwell                    
 To agonize upon what then fell over those high, noble walls.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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Dietrich Avatar
April 30, 2021 at 4:34 PM
I read your conversation below with Silent One to know what the poem was about, but as I read it, It DID make me think of an ancient myth. You write so impressively. thanks for seeing several of my poems. Wish I could return the favor but I am WAY behind here and hubbie will be home soon for dinner. What a busy week!!
Fleming Avatar
May 1, 2021 at 11:08 AM
Many thanks for taking the time to read through and comment, Andrea...you have always been so very encouraging regarding my poetic attempts. Much appreciated! My very best regards as ever -- cheers! :) john
One Avatar
October 29, 2020 at 12:41 PM
Do you mean Cassandra as the prophet of doom? Hope all is well John.
Fleming Avatar
November 14, 2020 at 5:42 PM
The poem is about Helen of Troy; especially poignant -- her dreadful beauty! And yes -- quite right, Cassandra was cursed with the power of prophecy; I believe she spurned Apollo's advances. He then endowed her with prophetic powers...but with a twist -- she was cursed to be forever disbelieved! With all too apparent tragic consequences. Cheers, Silent One!
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