count no woman happy until she be dead

Andromache endured the fall of Troy;
her heir and husband brutally struck dead.
Awarded to the victor's tween-aged son,
expected to consort with him in bed.
When Paris judged one goddess to be best
set his whole city-state against long odds.
To snatch a wife's a grave sin for a guest,
outraging not just Greece, but all the gods.
Fair Helen turned the heads of all the guys,
except Achilles, far off in the North.
Condemned to always be some master's prize,
a thing of value, bartered back and forth.
As ornamental parts to fill a scene;
the role was perilous, to play the queen.

the editor's art

Achilles let fair Thetis teach his son
fierce hatred for the royal house of Troy.
Andromache had hoped the worst was done
until she met the feral red-haired boy.
Sage Chiron'd taught his father how to heal;
nine Muses taught him song, and dance, and more.
This lion's cub seems not so much to feel
as to subsist on carnage, gore, and war.
It's not enough her lord and son lie dead;
the tyke will never get a proper pyre.
She's now consigned to warm her victor's bed;
her high estate now rides the sucking gyre.
Euripides leaves such a scene off-stage;
what Homer wouldn't treat, he too won't touch.
The hero's scion's plainly not of age;
to picture him with women's just too much.
The artist frames his work with end, and start;
and Homer's still unrivaled in this art.

prologue

Achilles found the harem kinda fun;
his mother'd never dressed him in such bling!
A hundred foster mothers for his son
repaid the nights he had to serve the king.
Tiresias foretold; he must be found
to fetch fair Helen back from strong-walled Troy.
Those battlements were never coming down
unless they brought the sea nymph's darling boy.
Odysseus stepped up (disguised, of course)
to dangle high adventure to the lad
before he'd dreamed to build a wooden horse
or thought to duck the draft by playing mad.
The audience should know what went before
to understand blind Homer's song of War.

injudicious

Barbaric Hector gave Greek values voice
upbraiding Paris for the fall of Troy.
Olympians had punted on this choice,
demurring to a Trojan shepherd boy.
When goddesses contend, no choice is right;
the Special Master's doomed before he speaks.
To claim the dame deemed best in mortals' sight
condemns his city-State to death by Greeks.
Fair Aphrodite tried to shield her whelp
down in the melee, where the blows fell thick.
not even Ares could have been much help;
there's no good end to thinking with one's dick.
Penelope works tireless at her loom;
she'll wait another lifetime, if she must.
Two souls so knit, they share a single doom
True love's not predicated on mere lust.
Blind Homer's not enthralled by flashy looks;
His vision's clear--to those who'll plumb his books.

Love and Death

Fleet-footed Thetis just can't understand
how could her darling love what's doomed to die?
The gods had given her to such a man,
but she'd felt no affection for the guy.
This demi-god's more rooted in the world;
eternity's for deities above.
While Zeus fucks every pretty boy and girl
In Patrocles, he's lost his one true love.
Fair Helen launched the action on our stage,
but then retreated to a minor role.
Achilles is the wonder of his age;
the all-consuming war's his to control.
The paragon that Greeks aspired to be
mourns for his therapon, like it was he.

always tip the bard

The Spartan cuckold's never lived it down;
new generations snicker at his name.
Fair Helen's dowry brought a bonus crown,
and an eternity of tainted fame.
The epic's hero'd never sought her hand
when all of Greece contested such a prize.
He knows that war's the measure of a man
and glory won there neither fades, nor dies.
Loud Menelaus lived his fill of life
while great Achilles never can grow old.
The one's remembered for his errant wife;
The other lives as long as tales are told.
Great bards demolish jerks with just their breath,
unstoppable by force of arms, or death.

Helen II

The king of Sparta bored his trophy wife
Who ditched him for a smooth-cheeked Asian lad.
There followed twenty years of grief, and strife
that wreaked destruction on her boytoy's dad.
Peleides was moved to wrath, in turn;
a lesser man'd made off with his due prize.
For such a slight, Acheans' ships must burn
'til Agamemnon would apologize.
Fair Aphrodite earned the poet's scorn
his heroes should respond to something higher.
But from the sundry lands where they'd been born
more than sailed home would ride the soldiers' pyre.
Hermione gave more cause for civic pride;

her husband kept her duly satisfied.

archetypes

Slain Agamemnon obligates his son
like Leto's murder drives the plot of 'Dune'.
Harkonnen crowed too soon of what he'd won,
he'd keep a date with Alia's harpoon.
Blood vengeance from the grieving next of kin
is how societies degenerate.
Feuds escalate; they're easy to begin,
where Justice isn't doled out by the State.
Until Athena stooped to intercede
Orestes fled before the Hags of Hell.
He'd done his duty, as his father's seed
but never after got to sleep full well.
Grand epic themes are writers' legacies
that resonate through House Atreides.

House of Atreus

Poseidon kept sweet Pelos for his bed
once Tantalos' heir had been restored.
He'd seen potential in what he'd been fed
ambrosial boy has ways to please his lord.

His grandsons likewise ended in the pot
no deity stepped in to bring them back.
Their uncle's wrath went overboard (a lot).
When in Mycenae, don't stop for a snack.
Dire Klytemnestra knew the stakes were high

the clan she'd married into had been cursed.
To cuckold Agamemnon on the sly
she'd honed an ax with which to kill him, first.
Celebrities may entertain us all

but splatter like ripe produce when they fall.

legacy

Poseidon kept sweet Pelos for his bed
once Tantalos' heir had been restored.
He'd seen potential in what he'd been fed
ambrosial boy has ways to please his lord.
Thyestes frolicked with his brother's wife
and Atreus nursed doubts about his sons.
Mycenae's no place for the happy life;
their royals don't know how that would be done.
Aegysthos shirked while all Greece sailed to war
and bedded Klytemnestra on the sly.
When Agamemnon strode through his own door,
the guy who'd won at Troy, came home to die.
Orestes can't shrug off the family weight
Until Athena will adjudicate.

meta-text

Penelope worked tireless at her loom,
While Helen practiced subtle arts in bed.
Pursuing beauty lures men to their doom,
except Odysseus, who keeps his head.
Blind Homer knew that Aphrodite's charm
is no true compass to the happy life.
The hero who's averse to grievous harm
must seek a partner, not a trophy wife.
Achilles never bid for Helen's hand
--Like Phoebus, he disdains to compromise--
But Briseus is his! No mortal man
would mess with such a godling, were he wise.
Enduring ethics sung in the Bronze Age,
go so much further than Achilles' rage.

Mycenae

The prospect of a more than noble match
Had Klytemnestra flustered, out of breath.
To nab Iphigenia such a catch,
she'd send her precious daughter to her death.
Her ditzy sister'd run off with some guy
who claimed he'd won her on a bar-room bet.
He'd picked her over wisdom, riches, might...
among emoluments he'd soon forget.
This beardless godling from the steppes of Thrace
--Apollo's equal when provoked to ire--
was worth three Kings from any other place.
Sweet bait to lure a virgin to the pyre.
The House of Atreus went down in flames;
Peleides died young, but lives in Fame.

rodef-dam II

Thyestes frolicked in his brother's bed,
and Atreus, in turn, took due offense.
He served his nephews diced, and stewed, and dead.
This family's not good at Future Tense.
And Agamemnon's wife gave him a son
a matricide by all established facts
who'd only done what needed to be done
'cause his own father'd fallen to her axe.
Orestes was ordained to break the spell;
Athena took him for her very own
Inventing courts to thwart the Hags of Hell.
Exiled from Mycenae, he found a home.
The Trojan War's excerpted from this tale
Of how hereditary dynasts fail.

rodef-dam

His father's murder cried out from the Earth.

Orestes knew what duty'd bid him do

to prove himself a pious son of worth.

but matricide's a Capital sin, too.

While wise Penelope wove a fair shroud

her cousin Klytemnestra wrought a snare.

The textile-arts such ladies were allowed

Go way past weaving, sewing, and repair.

Hog-tied while stepping out of his warm bath
so like his daughter, on that Aulis pyre
a sacrificial beast beneath the ax,
he conquered Troy, but not his lady's ire.
Immortal poetry preserves their names;

the House of Atreus went down in flames.

Penelope

Odysseus retired to his own realm
to bask in sunsets with Penelope.
Laid down his oar, relinquished his ship's helm--
let others teach Telemachos the Sea.
Athena's living image, here on Earth,
the wife a king aspires to, if he's wise
a partner of inestimable worth.
Let fools chase Aphrodite's wiles and lies.
Grey gulls scream on Aiaia's wintry shore
as if no Spring could ever come again.
Grave Circe's washed her hands of kings, and war;
there's too  much pain tied to the lives of men.
The poet's hero came unscathed through Troy
by steering always toward his one true joy.

Agon III

Sing muse, of Achilleus and his ire
the only male immune to Helen's charm.
She's fair, but not the type to light his fire
and Paris never did him any harm.
No oath obliged him in the Greeks' dispute; 
to court the Spartan heiress, he's too young.
The kin of Ganymede are smokin' cute

and like their  famous horses, nobly hung.
Nine years, the booty dangled out of reach
the oak hulls rot, the linen sails lie furled.
Our hero with his boyfriend strolls the beach
'til Agamemnon gives him back the girl.
The Western Canon's greatest epic text
makes no pretense that War's not twin to Sex.

the man in full

Laomedon stiffed gods who'd built his wall
wise fool! to think he'd never have to pay;
his heirs and children wept to see them fall.
Immortals--in due course--will have their way.
Tythonis took a goddess for his wife
and only later realized the truth
it's burdensome to have eternal life
unless that contract grants unending youth.
Odysseus kept Circe at arm's-length
although for years the twain had shared a bed.
Penelope's bond showed the greater strength;
this hero's heart's at home, where he first wed.
The first exultant in Man's mortal lot
the heir of Sisyphos knows what he's not.

polypoietes

'Twixt Scylla and Charybdis forced to steer
back home to Ithaka from such a trip
there's no way to stay altogether clear,
but sacrificing some, he saved the ship.
Another day, the boat herself went down
all hands were lost, 'though he himself was saved.
Athena wouldn't let her man-toy drown
but crewmen met an early wat'ry grave.
So proud to stand between his sire and son
against the suitors' vengeful next of kin!
At home, at peace, this hero's battle's won.
War's epic ends with this irenic hymn.
The only victor of the siege of Troy
came home to loving wife, and now-grown boy.

twin tales

Two heroes meet where only one can live
Achilles cut down Hector in his prime,
then asks old Priam that he should forgive
outrages when he wasn't of sound mind.
Two heroes meet, one's purely bred of man,
the other's only half of mortal stuff.
Each glorious in doing what he can,
unbending, 'though their lots in life be tough.
Two heroes meet, but only one goes home.
Achilles' tomb's uncounted leagues from Greece.
While Hector nestles in his natal loam
Peleides in exile knows no peace.
Two heroes  meet, their epic's twelve nights long
undimmed by death while still we sing their song.

Agon III

Sing muse! Achilles awesome in his ire
remained immune to Helen's vaunted charm.
She's fair, but not the type to light his fire
and Paris never did him any harm.
Unlike the other kings, he'd sworn no vow

to court the heiress, he's not yet of age.
He's told he's dying young, but can't know how

but Destiny requires a broader stage.

Nine years, the booty dangled out of reach
the oak hulls rot, the linen sails lie furled.
Our hero with his boyfriend strolls the beach
'til Agamemnon gives him back the girl.
The Western Canon's greatest epic text
makes no pretense that War's not twin to Sex.