Poetry

Poseidon and the Argo-Gods 

The sea is everything – all there is, from distant galaxy to photon wave 

a beating heart that draws the mind, to shores of Thessaly and beyond. 

Poseidon-Neptune in his cavern cliff retreat, sees Jason’s square-sailed Round-ship pass 

with golden ram’s fleece, flag-flapped in the breeze,  

its crew in languid somnolence. 

Here we upon the rock-strewn beach, with shelly bays and seaweed banks 

depend upon the trident’s thrust, to make our hearts beat faster now. 

We are perhaps the fish he nets, blind fools that swim in shoals of war 

all starved of truth in darkest depth,  

unreasoned by our mental dearth. 

Let’s walk the beaches of the mind, turn Newton’s pebbles into gold 

and feel the virtual vacuum’s pulse, that crashes storm-forced on our lives. 

Forever lost upon the sea, our bobbing boat with ruined prow 

so rudderless we have become,  

forsaken by the Argo-Gods. 

We know of nothing far beyond, our ocean universe made of stars 

We swim, we sink, we call for help, to sirens on that far-off shore 

They sing and laugh and mock us all, our last breath-gasping takes us off 

To nowhere we can ever know,  

into the purple-shaded deep.