A flash of light,
Yes, in her eyes
Was the only gesture
Of a sign in the first
Adam when he met her.
Time of his manhood
Glows like moonbeam
That coy the sun.
There was terrible toil,
For he feed his flesh
So as to live them.
Like spartan and trojans,
His aspiration is mediocracy
In his time.
The passing weight of time
Knows the counsel of the gods.
Those longing days
Reverberate the mind.
The philosophy of life
Is epicurious enigmatic.
Women became men.
Men became gods.
Power authorized at the apex
Of Mt. Olympus.
Laws break down
At Mt. Sanai.
Crimes diverse pragmatically
Into open doors and design porticos.
Victory a dust of brilliant
Loophole minds,
Was a competition at all.
Lie prostrate to Zeus on Mt Olympus
Bid him call the powers that be
of presidents and ministers world-wide
to cure the world of this ill wind blowing.
Stretch out to Asis our goddess in Egypt
upon whose manuscript reads Apollo
and there derive medicinal powers.
Lend immobile the spikes of this corona virus blunt
Which flying upon poisoned feathers do taint breaths in air.
Igbo, are we safe? Bring out your medicine gourd and blow
And like Epione sooth pain and restore life
Nehanda nyakasikana has this tale been foretold?
So how far will it unfold?
Please let your bones rattle and inform Zeus.
So recently the birds have flown, there are still feathers in my hair. Slip into day across the vast oceans, surrounding golden autumn maple trees high above Mt Olympus beholding the Gods at their best. Thru clouds in Alpine jungles to tents in hills on land. Sparrows to the gallows where the hangman plays games but never too old when we are all out of danger, if at all that we see and all that we must slip into day for a lifetime.
The Dog's Fun with Grandma
My daughter's dog is in love with me?
His dish like, excited eyes seem starving.
But over my legs he goes balmy licking,
Oh, that ~Olive lotion from Crete!
My legs are ambrosial popsicles to him!
That pooch cannot for hours stop licking.
Oh, that divine exuberance, from the sprit of Mt Olympus ~
Olive lotion from Crete!
Panagiota Romios
4/2/2019
Lungs that exhale lofty tones,
higher learning ... Mt. Olympus invocation
Elevated flung lightning bolts of linguistic illusion,
fancy worded dreams
floating ...
between
open cranial empty spaces
Diaphragm skywalkers
verbally illuminating prosthetic landscapes
of skin-deep lip topography
Giving interval beeps
of sonar, irregular equality
Maimed assumptions broken
and bent at the knees
Another Po’ Boy sandwich
pressed between two white bread homilies
Lifted up from the boot straps of society,
raising scrap expectations
not patron saint funded adequately
Pardon this underbelly pale naïveté —
Delusions of pauper eloquence
is negative sum ghetto certified positively
Battered rent conditions
feeling the po’ economic handicap pocket tease
Another Black Forest ham sandwich
pressed between
an upper and lower enamel sound byte squeeze
Green pasture illusion of freedom
does make for an idyllic graze docile situation
Delusions of fluent eloquence
be the rose cheeky flow of a grandiose nation
In the beginning thus Prometheus who loved mankind
Stealing fire from the Gods of Mt Olympus
Then to Earth he did resign
Man marveled at fire’s glowing light
Finding comfort from its warmth at night
Rocks which surrounded the campfire pit
Melted their metals into the ashy spit
Man’s observant brilliant idea dawned
A forge a hammer a chisel and a spear
Once ferocious King of the beast who roared death
Learned to tremble with fear
Bellows of goat skins did man blow across the red hot coals
The white hot warmth thus saturated the metal into hammer and fold
Pound the copper beat the tin-
So man did master the fire therein
Shields and weapons- tools and blades
Due the love of Prometheus made friend
We the man did gratefully accept
To Prometheus we are in his debt
And for his trouble did Zeus make plain
To steal from a God is unforgivable and disdain
You mere mortals I have told repeatedly.
We gods and goddesses on Mt. Olympus
want to be known by our true identity.
I have already approached you about this.
I’m the moon goddess; “Artemis” is my name.
Perhaps Helios should consume you with flame.
If I hear any of you call me “Selene”,
I will have to do something very obscene.
Robert Pettit for Nette’s “Into The Mood of Imagery” contest.
A full blooded goddess that's what you are
Raised in Mt. Olympus that's very far
Endowed with an endless beauty and wit
I am asking you not to let me fall in a lovers pit
Oh goddess of love in you hands is where love grows
you catch the piece of love my heart throws
Just to make it whole again
As if it has never been broken
Hear me, oh Venus
May this plea reach Mt. Olymp[us
Through your lofty towers where love dwells
You would hear me sing like a lovely bells
If only I was born with a silver spoon
Then maybe the love you sent will be a boon
But then i was not born with a golden face
That is adored by the whole human race.