Calypso
Calypso
In Stygian nights she’s calling my name,
Her silken tongue is tangled, wrapt in mine,
Euphorically blissed and tumbling in time,
Betwixt the heat of self-pleasure and shame,
The throbbing of empty vacuous pain;
Union dismembered—she’s not of my kind,
Afraid desolate—she’s all I can find,
Her goddess tongue tight—forever my chain.
Madness lapping against my trodden sole,
Mine salted tears enlist the bitter waves,
Foreknowing one day the dark deep will cull,
And take me from the lusting bed and slave.
So far this cursèd shore my wife awaits,
My quiet weaver, my lover, my fate.
Beautiful poem, masterfully illustrating the story of ancient epics. Genius paralleling parts of the modern condition with the story from the old world, allowing us to see the connections between ancient and modern man.