Sunday, December 25, 2022

Τιθωνός / Tithonos / Tithonus ~ Sunday, December 25, 2022

Why am I alive, beyond each moment, is there a reason why salt

hovers in my eyes, waiting for pure solitude, to weep in silence

yesterday, I slept until daylight became night, whatever that means

as the hot water splashed my face, nobody knew, sorrow like a bolt

made my face convulse, in private, nobody knew, eyes red with fatigue

I imagine soap or shampoo as my excuse, I have no license

as a man to cry in public but in private, the rain makes no scenes

let flow, unhindered, my tears, fallen but unseen, unheard, unspoken

introverted sun, hidden behind ash gray clouds, lies without intrigue

versions of myself, moment after moment, turn the soil with a spade

even a farmer, with hands, wide as an octave, from back in the day

breaks the chocolate earth, dark, bittersweet, with a hint of terror, stars fade

even the fingers five ward off the evil eye but life is so gray

yesterday, I woke in bed, wishing I were dead, my horse unbroken

only if you knew what I just erased, these words meaningless, mundane

nothing but shadows, the wind blows, the flame flickers, the candle sits still

devotion, a glass votive, a vow as you wish, desire to set fire

every day to wicks, yearn for yarn divine, entwined lovers without stain

an immaculate conception with an angel, the breath of spirit

consider the child, the infant in her cradle, she pants up that hill

how she must struggle against men and boys alike, wood for the pyre

much as I admire a woman of assertion, I affirm no claim

only in union, to join but I am no one, I know not a whit

my self-deception, my self-delusion, myself imaginary

even on the screen, a blip lasts but a moment, the ephemeral

nothing in the sky, not the stars or galaxies, clusters unmerry

turn the universe in eternal emptiness, why this temporal

imaginary, as if I were still alive, this life without aim

search for a purpose to no avail, certainty hides between the cracks

tragedy transcends decades of hopeless torture but when may I die

haunted by the past, by memories that inspire vengeance to be great

except an empty vessel waits like the others to greet what it lacks

remember the past as an elephant knows how the graveyard awaits

even a hunter knows not to kill the harmless except for mince pie

armies of black ants wage war against my sorrow but I embrace fate

remember amor fati, to live this one life, over and over

even the playwright digs beyond the truth, context inscribed on the gates

articles of faith, belief treats hypocrisy to inquisition

set constellations up as orders of systems, enculture the stars

over and over, to eternally return, make a decision

no other choices, to affirm the meaningless or drown behind bars

witness Tithonus, an immortal cicada, no four-leaf clover

how to love the worst and continue to believe in nonsense and lies

yesterday, I died but feed off the gibberish of myths as undead

salt and hot butter, popcorn in the theater, the savory screen

arguments arise inside the lobby, how loud, they distract my dread

left in solitude, in an isolation tank, I start to careen

to list like a ship, seasick, full of helplessness, how I agonize

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