Steve Trimmer Poems

Secular prose and platitude
Blows like a sirocco
Across the plagued mind of humanity
Even scholars wade in the ford of literal comprehension
...

Sweet Pyrra who`s name means ' fiery red'
Deucalion sailed thy Moon Ship Ark
Neath azur`d sky of drowning dead
Themis floods the land so stark
...

Sweet Pandora, my love
I am thine, the man Epimetheus who loves thee
`Twere not the fault of thee, Lady Pandora
`Twas not thee who released The Spites onto humankind
...

We were The Great Libyan Nation of antiquity
From Atlantis on Lake Tritonis, our city was Cerne
We settled this prodigious continent, and those of The Occident
`Twixt Underworld and The Heavens
...

From The Sea of Io, whence came Her wiles
I call to my love Eos
I am Cephalus on my isle
I see Her light of Helius
...

It is the sixth century before the common era
Gynarchy is waning in Athens
Erechtheus is torn `twixt the ancient code of valour and
His lust for power
...

Sagacious high moon priestess
With pallor lunar skin
With flowing black locks
With lips of rowan berries
...

Can She hear my inner voice?
Or see that I`m distraught
These distich rhymes, so be fraught
With melancholy and rejoice
...

Can not…………………………..can not think……………
……………………..can not………..where be the godhead? …………..

Need the godhead (the demagogue sheepherder of spirit leeching)
...

A vault he opens; His holy sacristy of empty and faithless glee
Replete with all opulent gauds and blood-soaked currencies
Licking fingers in anticipation
Of counting his green bills, malaise securities
...