Long Satyr Poems
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Amid Arcady's sylvan groves(where once I gazed
Upon such luminous and alabaster grace
By her immortal beauty raptly drawn and dazed
As she turned and gently upraised her elfin face.
Like Aphrodite from the foam she rose and shone
With eager rivulets caressing ev'ry curve
Boldly her willing body yielded to the sun
While capricious Eros' dart smote me deep with love.
In that balmy dawn, birds all hushed in reverence,
Her glistening charms held so deeply me in thrall
Through the glade wafted her fluid fresh fragrance
So that I could barely stifle my lovesick call.
My satyr spirit begged me to Priapus play
But Aidos bade me remain withdrawn and hidden
If only I had known that this moment's delay
Would my great good fortune diminish , unbidden.
Then still she stayed,a startled fawn just before flight
As her skittish glance strayed towards where I was stood
'Twas then Actaeon's fate rose before me with fright
So I shrank e'er deeper into the shadowed wood
Lest vengeful Artemis let loose her hounds of hate.
But then coyly slipped away my shy shepherdess
As I stayed in fear transfixed and saw much too late
Her glide through the trees in her fluttering dress)
I wander alone aye haunted by this vision
While there fiercely burns in my heart a crippling ache
From which there can be no respite nor remission
That even Bethesda's waters would never slake.
Even now that image I cannot forget
Of her rising from the cool water
In my heart there lingers deep regret
For not addressing Aphrodite's daughter
As she swept back her dewy golden hair
Sparking within me an electric surge
The cascading streams caressing her everywhere
To animate me with a powerful Priapic urge
Where is this peaceful utopia of infinite wonder
I've heard much about? I've followed the call of echoes,
and I've searched far and long into the wilderness
I've looked through the haze of morning mist
and peeked through apertures pierced by sunlight
I've relied on the wind for directions, but they blew me
every which way. I've searched the four corners
of my dreams, to no avail. Morpheus, will you kindly
take me there? I just want to briefly get away
from this world gone mad.
Take me to Arcadia to tour the majestic sights on the back
of a satyr, to soar the peaceful sky with the faeries,
to gaze at the stars there at midnight. Isn't this a place
where the rainbow never leave the sky? I want to know
what the zephyr there feels like!
I want to see the place where bliss and beauty reign supreme.
Isn't this also a place where friends and foes, fools and kings
all harmoniously co-exist? Isn't this a place where the wheels
of pleasant dreams are spun? Take me there, won't you,
Morpheus? It haunts my imagination, and how.
Date written and posted: 11/10/2018
a cavalcade wept ashore with frenzy like a beastly bus
oblivious of tribes who blissfully dealt without a fuss
triangulated within an ever narrowing pen
contaminated, decimated, eradicated “red” men
once a collection of indigenous separate “nations”
plucked by invaders who usurped america as their den
releasing poison couched as religion into the air
which indignities true colors became readily clear
when europeans “discoverers” fomented war-fare
to those who found themselves in deadly cross hair
every inch of “new world” grimly rustled in every lair
with deadly piping hot metallic bullets with near
with unfamiliar customs on par with a satyr
without means to escape any direction they did veer
cohesion of unity did annihilate without a trace
that belonged to those who stood apart as separate race
paraded as “exotic specimens” in some faraway place
bandied about as if some rare refined silken lace
of their rightful home by chicanery tactics base
to banality, effrontery, hostility though dined
with travesty from Europeans whose dreams lined
against so called original occupants who got maligned.
The Orchid
As the orchid blooms its long beautiful flower
The perfume of which fills the air hour by hour
The strength in its leave when open from bud
No decay just a little wrinkle as in age it should
If Orchis the son of the nymph and satyr
Had not drunk of the vine and showed his desire
As he drank long and hard at the feast of Dionysus
His eyes fell on a priestess and caused all the fuss.
He wanted her, was his drunken decree
And he didn’t care if she didn’t want he
He coveted the priestess as he drank by the hour
Determined he was soon her going to deflower.
His advances she said she would not take
But he did not listen and her he would make
But for this insult to a revered priestess
The gods were determined he’d pay for her distress
He would not go unpunished this was THEIR decree
And ripped limb from limb they decreed he would be
The bacchanalians did tear him apart and justly so
He should have accepted the priestess she said NO!
The father of Orchis prayed the Gods would restore
The son that he loved and would for evermore
After they listened to the prayers of a father distraught
The Gods returned Orchis not as a man but as a flower they thought.
Orchis became the flower with the strange sounding name
Whose beauty enchants and its perfume does the same
The orchid, the bulbs shape we will recognise today
The part under the body, where a man likes us to play.
© 9/02/2013/~GG~
Dr. O S Lont MD
1822 – 1893
The proud peacock bird
Knew of my enormous egregious ego.
As a young satyr in suspenders
I sought out the fillies and the mares
In the old town of Springfield.
They allowed me, the boy,
The boy with the full head of coarse brown locks
And brown beard to match,
To entice them to esoteric spots
In the distant cold canyons.
And with precise skill and determined non-chalance,
I stabbed them with my spear, my long hard spear!
Stabbed and pierced them with
The Punto Reverso and the Hai!
And then it all changed.
I saw the sunset of my bachelor days,
And married Melissa.
These are modern English translations of the "Xenia" epigrams written in collaboration by the German poets Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, plus an elegy Goethe wrote for Schiller...
These are selected XENIA epigrams with all translations by Michael R. Burch...
#2 - Verse versus Kiss
She says an epigram’s too terse
to reveal her tender heart in verse ...
but really, darling, ain’t the thrill
of a kiss much shorter still?
#5 - Criticism
Why don’t I openly criticize the man? Because he’s a friend;
thus I reproach him in silence, as I do my own heart.
#11 - Highest Holiness
What is holiest? This heart-felt love
binding spirits together, now and forever.
#12 - Love versus Desire
You love what you have, and desire what you lack
because a rich nature expands, while a poor one retracts.
#19 - Nymph and Satyr
As shy as the trembling doe your horn frightens from the woods,
she flees the huntsman, fainting, uncertain of love.
#20 - Desire
What stirs the virgin’s heaving breasts to sighs?
What causes your bold gaze to brim with tears?
#23 - The Apex I
Everywhere women yield to men, but only at the apex
do the manliest men surrender to femininity.
#24 - The Apex II
What do we mean by the highest? The crystalline clarity of triumph
as it shines from the brow of a woman, from the brow of a goddess.
#25 -Human Life
Young sailors brave the sea beneath ten thousand sails
while old men drift ashore on any bark that avails.
#35 - Dead Ahead
What’s the hardest thing of all to do?
To see clearly with your own eyes what’s ahead of you.
#36 - Unexpected Consequence
Friends, before you utter the deepest, starkest truth, please pause,
because straight away people will blame you for its cause.
#41 - Earth versus Heaven
By doing good, you nurture humanity;
but by creating beauty, you scatter the seeds of divinity.
Keyword/Tags: Goethe, Schiller, German, Germany, translation, modern English translations, epitaph, epigram, love, kiss, friendship, desire, holy, holiness, earth, heaven, beauty, god, divinity, nature, spirit
All I've seen is a black star in the night sky,
We fell asleep after our cross-country awry.
In my dream, I saw weak, cynical starlight,
Subtle as a map packed toward the plight.
City by the Bay up against our New York,
Oh, guys burn you agile with real torque!
A dull star of little utility in the night sky,
Leaving them burning was unwisely sway.
New Mexico in Texas when USS Arizona sank,
Stashing our shame, bold lads raced to the tank.
Idaho's air arrives at Ohio and the Great Lakes,
Twilights and nooks assist with filling the brakes.
My Florida is blazing in sight of your blue Picayune,
Reddish dryads stand out against the black Moon.
Your Eastern Time Zone is striving to attack mine,
Meander into Her shadows, the watching divine.
My highland concept and your primary time,
Right-side dawn, the sun on my wing is sublime.
The yard's satyr emerges as stern and bleak,
Strings and woodwinds adapt to the beak.
As the moon soared, she met four cardinal glyphs,
Orioles swoop over us while writhing in the cliffs.
Our states and cities merged into one community,
Resilient and devoted to justice for all and liberty.
I know where streams chime of giggling flow,
I know the wellspring where tears grow.
I know where dwells the inconspicuous star,
I know what words are yelled and how winds scar.
Written: August 14, 2022
Blossoms line my laden descent
down to the perked watering hole
that plays empty theater,
awaiting my creative path,
a royal welcome -
represented by accumed variety and presumed clarity,
of intentional therapy of renewed sensable youth.
Periscope complicity is channeled by heart's stereoscopicity,
Dryad/Satyr Satire, no dry ads, only wet views.
Season facets a wild cherry scent to your vantage point
of attitude and beauty proximity, of dripping cues.
Draw the liquid curtain on the canvas
of insanely intimate hues.
To a crash on the rocks of the mind-blown
by windswept rescue chasing you behind a messaged massage,
Baywatch, Oasissed Dunes and slow Djin mirage.
Nature is no stranger to being the muse,
Rebel with a cause,
cause maybe this time you stay
and snuggle awhile, sailor.
. for public domain
We shivered through long, Winter nights,
beyond the comfort of civil rites,
to find each other in our old age,
rise from the ruins and write a new page.
Your sealed wounds lay gentle on your arm,
as white rose petals drawn in Spring,
my wrinkled smile, a satyr in disguise,
transfixed by the beauty in your eyes.
Five Summers passed, each one dearer
in memory, as we grew nearer,
and nurtured our companionship
in sharing meals and sweeter friendship.
We sit, holding hands, chatting wistful
of distant woes, but fresh in feeling.
I pray we harvest in our Autumn days
a happy ending to our truant ways.
Lord, how I love my sinner man, my Satyr.
My copper skin sinner man with the hard body of Zeus.
My teacher of debauchery.
My leader into a life of hedonism, I am his nymph.
Heavens knows I tried to resist this flute-blowing faun.
I am unhinged by his lovemaking.
Yet I want to spend every wakening moment with him.
I hunger for;
His passionate seductions.
His gentle touch.
His warm embrace.
His hot breath.
Blissful is our hours together.
Blissful is our days in delightful pleasure.
What a new world he has introduced me to.
Lord, how I love my sinner man, my Satyr.
copyright 2016 Looking At The Light From The Bottom of The Lake