Taker
O' Virtulent captain of lambasted seas,I, weary beast of song decreed a sinner,
a wild siren, deformed and unworthy,
longing to taste Aphrodite's poisoned fruit,
whose laments of men are volatile as waves
and warn each passing ship of Odysseus;
who feasts on limbs of unfortunate lovers—
I had no choice. Your eyes desired elsewhere,
body yearning, unwilling, backing away.
Aye, my island was built of your desire,
cascading between the ocean's push and pull.
One hand perforates its pale seafoam surface,
discarded sand forming mankind's opal pearl
as if men were never enough on their own,
and plucks from water its opulent treasure.
Souls are strung into jewelry, worn to disguise
the hollowed self, burned whole from within, as a
tree struck down by Mount Olympos's lightning
in violent frenzy by Athena's decree.
Lo! I, the taker, the talker, the jewel thief,
champion of lust yet incapable of love,
Calypso, nymph of entrapment and release
offer myself to Poseidon's blue mercy,
to drown in a storm of despair and red grief—
abandoned again, I return to the sea.
Oct. 20, 2022
the path forward seems to go back,
the direct path seems long,
true power seems weak,
true purity seems tarnished,
true steadfastness seems changeable,
true clarity seems obscure,
the greatest art seems unsophisticated,
the greatest love seems indifferent,
the greatest wisdom seems childish.
