Poeta Laureado De la Ciudad de San Jeronimo Peru
The Ill-omen of Istanbul
[A Dramatic Macabre Mythos in Poetic form;
About Achilles' Arrow]
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I heard of a fable once I was in Istanbul, in 1996, it was of the Arrow of Achilles, misplaced somewhere in Asia Minor; consequently I took a journeying into Asia Minor, and went to Troy, and several some other cities, in this manner comes this Poetic Mythos,
Part V
End: the Parting
It was raining, descending ominous red rain
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When I awoke earlier in the morning-
Then, superficial out my framework came
A gray, grey dawn-ascending
Rising beside the shadows,
Helen by their sides:
Happy I was, time period had lift,
Took the cold, frozen fearfulness near it
(That brought me cold, cold garment)
Shadows, shapes, imps and alike:
Like injured curtains, shifting away
All, now, in the misused atmosphere
As I Looked out my window-gray standard lamp...
This raw fearfulness that was deed slowly
This red, red menacing rain: greyish shadows,
Brooding: wave wringing bodies:
I saw them interesting Achilles' arrow
In a furthermost bestial cast-iron absorbing way:
This red, red sinister arrow,
That brought horror, ringside:
Where inside it, resided a army of beings?
Of fiendish raving, infelicitous beings!
This red, red threatening arrow
That die its bout on me...
Part VI
The Afterward
I sucked in my breath, cleaned up a bit,
And went set staircase for morning breakfast-
To weave the group, with floundering suspicions;
Who never knew the whole of it,
Only that suspension that prickling port jabs,
Like a sorrowful sponge,
Never more to know
But the pounding of the heart!...
Part IV
Night Arrows
I'm not sure, but I felt I was hallucinating
Or was I vision in my sleep-?
Brooding over and done with the darkness of the cliff,
On its plateau, enclosed by its woods
Within its cave, where shadows hung like-minded bats
Hung completed me, incessantly, as I ducked,
Where resided Achilles' assaulting red pointer.
Silent, I material my red animal tissue ruin me
The shut up became Deafening
(Bewildered, bemused, and thrown)!
Ineffectual pawing, were the shapes
Hammering, as if I was the stake-
I well-tried to tremble them off:
Eerie evil: -I told my thing to awake
At the circumference of my bed stood several
Of these Cliff dwellers, faceless:
Was I static in a castle in the air state?
-Sleeping, the Bed and Morning
I took a 2nd partial view at the clock
It was 3:30AM, where did the instance go
Morning was next at hand, as this
Ghostly cult did their protest.
Then I detected a whisper, murmur:
"Where is the red, red Arrow?"
An spiteful human face echoed with it-.
The delivery nearly scrap me,
Impervious to my brain
It type it mental state on me-hostage
To icebound terror, riveting me,
Cold secretion dripping off of me,
Their sense impression rippled, vainglorious complete me
With wild, Rhythmatical movements
Invoking: liquid body substance stumbling to my heart
A impulsive constrain compliant to killing me.
"Where is the red, red Arrow?" they cried,
[huskily] in this heart-stirring hobby.
The Arrow, Murmur and Helen
Under the bed went my mitt in search
And recovered the damn arrow-at last
The pointer had a murmur: in a language
I had never heard, said, in chamber tone:
"We are the followers that Christ imprint into the sows,
Taken out thereafter, now form into this ugly iron
Red, red arrow!!" so spiraled this looking drum
Of a voice, that begged to be released," and there
Beside my bed was the beautiful and Helen naked.
As the female lay on my profaned bed,
Chanting to the arrow, as it inflected slashes,
Painful scratches, gashes: she disagreeable person them all:
"This was not a dream," aforesaid the allure queen,
Helen of Troy, dancing, frantic and chanting,
As the slobbering rapture went on, near the
Blemished, diabolic black browed snarling ghouls.
Gray Dawn
I did what I had to do; achromatic first light crept near
Hence, I upraised up the arrow
Unmistakably, they stopped chanting,
The arrow had a murmur: Helen, in my bed,
Now she force me in, Death was immanent,
I had done what they wanted-sinned,
-I later threw the Arrow at the six,
All voices emerged with, a salivating madness.
Part III
Alien Artifact: Achilles' Arrow
The arrow was but an physical object to Solomon,
Old Solomon the Muslim, from Cairo;
One with a bloody, virulent lineage, and legend;
But I yearned-for what was further than the myth,
Beyond the contacts of the Trojan War,
That had killed Achilles', and brought Troy's ruin:
This Alien artifact, with quality ken.
As we heavily traveled done Asia Minor, singular were
The days, nights, visions and dreams:
Coming repeatedly, horridly lifelike at times,
And near we were in the drums and fire,
Arrows shot everywhere-so the battles
Bellowed crosstown my mind, hour after hour
As we heavily traveled to brainstorm the 'Cave of the Arrow.'
And in doing so, I departed my journey of sorts,
Those kin group I had travel to know, in Istanbul.
I had near the journeying for a spell, and once I had
Returned, was asked, "Did you find
What you were sounding for?"
And I said, "Of course!"
The Cult/Aboriginal Ghouls
The fact roused, that we were self followed
Uneasiness came to us-tourists on the bus!
No one ready-made a relation to me, with them,
With these unenviable black-clocked barbarians;
This race later the bus, from far behind
Following us, these native ghouls, unfazed:
The mark was perhaps their talisman for witchcraft
And the in prison satanic beings, but toys!
-the captured breathing dead, Amulets to worship:
In this supreme frightening, unseen hypogeum.
Perhaps they textile I may possibly set them free
For I had understood their Pandora's box (you see);
But my interests were not in rituals, or alike:
Such as recreation in building corridors, as they....
In my sleep, I lifeless dreamed of red menacing flesh
Burning parched to oblivion; achromatic magic;
Slaughtered women and babies, nightmares.
[Then:] while in Samaria, I walked swiftly
By the docks: Merchants swayed,
Eyes mutely engulfed- view advisement me
Followed by the cult's hoary whitish moo.
Their Voices, angry- decreed:
'The Arrow's not yours to living.'
Part II
Haunted, and Old Solomon
The antemeridian after my arrival, I set out
To the vale wherever within, resided
A soaring cliff, in investigate I went
For this fabulous red cast-iron arrow,
A few work time up and complete the stony slopes-
In the dale over and done Troy's reach
Here, face-to-face I stood in the cave
Douse in sweat: Solomon inform to the arrow
Underneath the rock-protruding...
There I force it out, took it, salaried my pilot well,
As he accurst the pointer from hell,
Then left, as he had go [Solomon]-.
There in the cave: signs of barbarous feasts
[Sacrifices: had understood plonk]: animal, human bone
s,
Bits of core weapons-broken Skulls...all around;
Skulls, unobstructed bones; carvings on the walls
An past holographic language, to me unknown
Written in red flesh, by human percussion instrument.
Part I
The Demonic Arrow
I was standing underneath the fractional broken down walls
Of the city-fortress, allegory calls Troy-
Felt the chafe of the forces that erstwhile fought here
The stone-dead seemed all around, red sinister flesh
Cloaked next to horrified visions, and the arrow
That damn arrow, at home my consciousness.
I had studious the recent gorge inhabitants
Half invisible, body snatcher complete souls, brood and all
Were the native cults, Troy's leftovers?
A profligate autochthonal race; so others told me:
But Solomon knew well, they had a plurality beside hell
They were the keepers of the arrow.
"I told you, it's a diabolic preoccupied item," said
Solomon, of Cairo.
"What is so pest roughly speaking it," I exclaimed.
"Yes," said old Solomon, "I will lug you to
the slopes, to the cliff, to the woods, to the
cave, near you will discovery your mad revelation."
And so it was [and so it began]: the Journey.
Part one and two scrivened 6/25/06, evening; quantity iii and 4 6/26/06, at EP Café; Part v and six, engrossed 6/27/06, at familial in Lima; revised 1 & 2 July 2006.
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