Stella Maris

Stella Maris

 

We woke upon the barren shore of the plain of Argos

Washed into the sand with broken glass and

The rest of the Argo’s hull like we were

Strung-out artists in Hell’s Hundred Acres-

The Argo Navis mocked us from deep within

The blanket of night that neither cradles

Nor harms its lonely children-

Damn us for damning Poseidon

After drifting upon the prow through the Isthmus of Corinth

Where it makes no difference which way we go

 

Where Achille’s prayers echo still,

Through the ancient myriads of stumps

And over-weathered tempered stone of Dodona

Where holy men ran the magic dry

And no one cries for Hera,

Except you and I-

We crush pomegranates beneath our naked feet

And sip the fateful nectar like oasis water

Even with the twang of the tin guitar that rings with no limits from time.

 

I feel we will never be found,

Yet we will never be lost,

The hollow will never fill,

But what they have filled

We won’t allow to become hollow-

Understand, that I understand,

That we can simply be,

Because of them-

 

“Beside this thoroughfare

The sale of half-hose has

Long since superseded the cultivation

Of Pierian Roses” --

 

We each have found our Isis love

And wear our Isis knots around our necks

But let’s hope the Nile never floods,

For the walls of our Chateau will not so easily fall

With no reason to be Counts of Monte Cristo-

Our Ezra masterpieces are to be written and not molded

So I ask you…

How can we pluck the pedals of the Perisian Roses

In our lover’s Stella Maris eyes

Without destroying their chance at life?

Without crashing at the base of the loreley,

At the feet of our Rhine maidens?

She is my guillotine,

 I do not want to be hers.

 

“Til change hath broken down

All thing save beauty alone”