The Birth of Aphrodite
Splashdown
from beyond the visible universe
In a
foam-flecked uprising of matter, she crashed into the sea,
Oddly-shaped
residue of rebellion up above
Where
Cronus was circumcised by Saturn’s curse,
And she
stood there dazed, Venus Aphrodite,
Mother
of mothers, conception and pitiless love.
Shell-shocked
for ages on oceans for forgetfulness
She
swirled from island to island, rejected by men
Without
thoughts or languages, then pulled by the moon
On
tides of agony, she grasped for something to bless,
Some
being or illusion, never knowing when
Or
where, always too far away, always too soon.
Now she
hides in the shadows of her own desire,
Alone
among minnows and maidens, ever on fire,
Still meshed
into memories or myths of infinite ruin.
The Origins of Myth
The
water thundered down upon the rocks,
Heavy,
loud and frightening, yet we climbed
Along
the slippery surfaces to find what shocks
Us
still ten thousand years after, that rhymed
Deep
rhythms and reverberations; and still unlocked
The
memories before the words were found, unblocked
The
images we could only feel as rumble, growl
And
roar; the terrible dread of birth, dismemberment,
Our
limbs twisted, our heads crushed, our organs
Unable
to function in the darkness, our breaths spent
In
useless gasps, and then the horrible release,
Descent
and vertigo, and still choking, cease
All
efforts, except the unknown instinctive dance.
Graves
Square
slabs of marble on a distant hillside
Are all
that remain of family, dates of birth
And
death, dates that reveal how brief the slide
From
one through to the other, without mirth
Or
mystery, just a slight and decorous decline
On the
grassy hill. The names vary, change
With
the passing of ideas and customs, a line
Between
the centuries and continents, angel
Drawn
in miniature, hexagon and tablet,
As do
the alphabets that enable it
To meet
exigencies, and then the challenge
From
beneath the seemingly quiet and unyielding earth.
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