Published: 2 October 2025

heroes

when gods make love, they create problems for heroes
and when heroes are done, they don’t look so good,
that’s what you get from the gods, heroes don’t want to be
who they are, so what else do gods do to reward heroes?
they make heroes immortal, because the gods don’t get it

they think it’s first step to godhood, but when they start
heroes on the path of not being human, the first thing heroes lose
is feeling, then, loved ones die, often by the hero’s hand,
and those are actions you cannot undo; once the gods
favour you, people notice, describe your every deed, mercilessly;

heroes stumble no longer able to understand the world
they cannot tell if they are part of it, or already a constellation
following its path through the heavens, listening to stories
of misery and supplication, stories you don’t want to hear
twisted stories about you and things you did once, but not like that

what follows is inevitable; those to be immortal invest in their meaning
build churches, write laws, tell people what to do; it’s hard to explain,
because it’s freedom, power, once you’ve had it, it’s everything
you start to feel inevitable, not a legendary knot begging to be undone;
adoration’s the reason, the way, you’re blind as you stagger to the finish

the gods are also indifferent their gift leads to insanity

madness, final refuge of heroes, usually accompanied by acts of
self mutilation, hands, eyes, genitals removed, all in an effort to replace
what has been taken; sometimes magic helpers create
ingenious devices that distract for a moment, promise to heal
wounds with robotic, magic prosthetics, or poisoned solutions;

finally, the only option, suicide, usually fire, because by now,
a hero is desperate for anything that might change things,
that promise a return to just being someone, but it never
happens, they only burn away remaining humanity and create

another mad god, surrounded by the ashes of finite dreams
walking the starlight mile, accompanied by whispers of misery
and supplication, stories that are your glory, your only glory

More Poetry:

every day I reach

every day I reach
a thousand times
above my head
for a glass or plate

your path

you cannot avoid your path
you cannot step off your path
it’s non-negotiable, can’t look away
you will see your path through

Time is the sky above us

Sunset lit wind swirls,
smells of waning days, sleeping warm.
Light eddies, tumbles in little whirlpools,
dances the future of leaves, drain of hours

History

Shimmer of birch leaves against slap of sunlight
all flicker and history, tale of what is to be
what is told. Time between winter and summer,
reckoning and memory, counting and forgiving.

The more I drink

The more I drink, the more I love my family.
Until we drink too much, then we fight and cry.
That’s not a plea for understanding or absolution,
it’s a question of what makes those you love

Mother Tongue

The mother tongue is the mother
of all tongues, including half tongue,
two tongue and ten tongue, so named
for the weight they must bear. Ten tongue

Related

your path

your path

you cannot avoid your path
you cannot step off your path
it’s non-negotiable, can’t look away
you will see your path through

read more

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *