Best Doric Poems

Pythagoras of Samos (580 BC-500BC) :

Born in the Greek island of Samos in the Northen
Agean Sea , -
Off the coast of Asia Minor of modern day 
Turkey ;
It was around late 6th century BC !
He settled in Croton , a Doric Greek colony -
Of southern...

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"*******" and pork pie hats
white shirts, black ties
sweat stains under their arms,
even wetter, the pressed handkerchiefs that wipe faces and necks.
Father Abraham looks down upon his children
and sees the words "I am a man" over and over again.
It is hot, and white girls with beehives...

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The grand, half-ruined Parthenon,
once a sublime, Doric grace,
Even now, in broken, stone blocks,
always takes my breath away.
The rich, classical detail,
fluted columns without plinths,
to imagine what it once was,
the mind can’t even begin…

That towering Coliseum,
the great masterpiece of Rome,
even half gone it’s staggering,
to be so tall,...

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As Samuel saw vaulted Xanadu of Kublai Khan fame
In smoke-filled corridors of sweat-drenched Opium-eaters
Did I spy a vision so surreal as to render all my sentient senses to nought
And to replace them with a miasma of arcane thoughts.

I glimpsed of things most unimagined through vaporous...

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I worked for Boeing when I first met Fred
Liked him the instant he called me “brain dead”
We were both part of the same office mob
Both engineers fairly new on the job

I was single then, but didn’t last long
Got married and then my Corvette was gone
Being...

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How long I’m standing here on Ortygia? 
Remain motionless 
under the hot sun. 
Looking like a marble kouros 
with broken hands.
I search the wind 
for the cool breeze of Aegean, 
the sweet smell of Delos 
which gave its name to this place.

I have to caress...

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They
made
doric,
ionic
and corinthian-
these pillars of society...

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Ode to what’s been lost 

Discarded Protocols and broken treaties 
that were of our past 
what things we’ve lost and might not gain again 
why no one spoke or took refrain 

We had come so far to keep us sane 
we had a compass to...

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Before a pagan shrine, a witch reveals the gods’ desire
And sees a cryptic vision cloaked in her enormous pyre:

The blazes have the wit of lightning born of rain and fire
And magically filled with deep, eternal knowledge brought
To life on laden summits swept by ancient songs...

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I went to the art lecture

Because I knew it would

Be dark, and I could sit 

In the back of the room

In back of all the backs

Of heads staring forward

At the slides shuttering by,

Oil strokes, cut stones

Doric spires all whispering

--This too shall pass—

Ruins.

You could still smoke...

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Doric columns supported the xyst
with ancestral plane trees and boxwood
lining the spaces between and whispering
the secrets of ancient polished stone.

The promenade led to the gymnasium
where zealous athletes of strength and valor
practiced their regiment for the Games
to earn enhanced esteem and station.

So compelling now to amble...

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