Achilles is Cruel

Lithe and able

Elite of ability

Miniscule in humility

Achilles was as a lion

With attendant strength

And vanity

Hector met him outside of the gate

As they planned

Two lions met in combat

Only one survived and after the battle

Achilles pulled the slain body

Round the city of Troy

The city walls lined

With horror struck citizens

As he mocked their hero

Now struck down

Dragging him with his chariot

The legs and arms flailing about

Lifeless yet, moving

Like a puppet under a madman’s strings

Broken hearted children sing

Anthems to their hero

But as with life that betrayed him

There is nothing to be done

But to wait for death to end the scene

And restore hope some other way

“And overpowered by memory
Both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely
For man - killing Hector, throbbing, crouching
Before Achilles' feet as Achilles wept himself,
Now for his father, now for Patroclus once again
And their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house.”

 ― Homer, The Iliad 

Forgive me for begging

I could keep asking
But you'd keep ignoring
And then you would tell me
There is too much pressure

I would have whispered I love you
But you refused to hear
Anytime I spoke

I would have told you I need you
But you'd turn in fear
Anytime I'd approach

I cannot reach you
I cannot find you
When you tell me
You are drowning
I worry
And don't want to appear
The beggar

Forgive me
I am unable
To make you
Understand
That I cannot deliver
Salvation
Or pleasure

So reach out for me
I will take your hand
Speak loudly or softly
I will listen
But I am alone
I am just a flawed man
And I cannot wait forever

HE WILL RAISE HIS BANNER

He is just a servant 
A knight in service to a king
For whom every kingdom serves
For there is no higher power
He lays his arms before the king
Bows before him in honor
Showing his absolute fidelity
The knight knows his role
And has played his part
The world a great stage and play
He gave his role his entire heart
Blood and honor
Soul and flesh
Nothing more can be given
Except for the things that cannot be taken
To live for one with every breath
To give every moment for the king
To live for one purpose
To give voice to hopeless
To give hope to the voiceless
To be the reason the King's anthems sing

I Fall To My Knees

I never asked why
Because I knew there was more
I left my home
For all my life
I knew that I
Was upon a quest
Trying to find you
Trying to find your throne
And now that I have
I fall to my knees before you
Giving you the best of my harvest
The greatest of my work, of what I own
My highest and greatest for you
I give you everything
And you called my name
But I am the one who received
Because you gave me
The unblemished lamb
His fleece
The purest
Whiter than snow
Because of you
I know truth
I know your name
I believe
For you alone are worthy
For you alone
Are worthy of my praise
You are my Lord

The Green

I used to believe that the earth was the answer
To the question: what is right and perfect
That humanity was a disease worse than cancer
Burning and destroying everything
And I sorrowed our actions
The beast of man, of humans
Our choices and our decay
But now I know
The earth is perfect
Not because of its own design
But because it was made
The trees sway like dancers
The birds and the animal calls
Are the cantors
In a church for just one
Who is truly perfect
The one without flaw
Who is self aware, and self created
Oh, so perfect, The creator

 I am sorry for my friends who are left of center politically, to my friend pagans, and atheists, I realize they'll think that I am purposefully insulting their beliefs. I am simply saying, I was worshiping the created, rather than the creator, something called idolatry, and I think that in doing that, I was wrong.   This is my public apology to my God for missing the point. I always heard in the thunder the voice of God, I found rapture in the glory in nature, yet I thought wow nature is great, instead thinking, God is speaking to me through nature. Since the cancer I face might take me from this earth, I wanted to right my wrong.   I have many but this is one I need to fix.

Lost in my ignorance

In her way she was never demure
Her body laid out almost poured
Across those black silk sheets
Her form was perfect, highlighted
Featured white skin, curves
Like the moon in twilight
Standing out in stark beauty
She was catlike, almost hearing her purr
She was never coy
Never one to stay quiet
Her voice was not loud but was heard
I would have given gems and rubies
Anything to hold her, to love her
She would have said yes
I said no, despite my urges
Time flashed by, even blurred
Never offered the chance again
A memory of it lingers
The consequence of a fetid, unhumble man
Remembering his ignorance
Of a beautiful offering untaken, is absurd

Nemo me lacrumis decoret dare neque fletu celebrare exequias volutabantur

They will dress nicely
To keep warm and to be respectful
And during the procession there
Some will be strong
keeping
a silent look upon their face

During the funeral some will cry
Because they see life as all there is
But they are wrong

Wasting those tears collected
in handkerchiefs made of finest cotton

There is more, I cannot show them
I am only human
I cannot tell them, words alone cannot transform
I only know from knowing
That leaves me torn

There are cemeteries all across the horizon
The land is filled with bones
The ravens and crows fly above
The sky is dotted

But when I die I will not be missed long
Because little in this world matters
Little in this world is remembered

Dead flesh passes quickly
Words are forgotten
The only way in which we matter
Are the way in which we love
The way in which we care

We are temporal, and made of dust
The spirit is eternal
The flesh will die
It is rotten
Which will you trust?

Art credit Henri Rivière

“Not the power to remember, but its very opposite, the power to forget, is a necessary condition for our existence.”   ― Sholem Asch

Should the Darkness Come

Should darkness come
I will be waiting
For the fall has
Begun
My heart
Fighting forever
Knows the name
Of the one
Who can save me
From the fire
From the madness
Inside my heart
He knows my name
He calls my name
And I walk
Like Lazarus
For I cannot die
Though my flesh will burn
And fall away

Dark Street by Petr Kratochvil