He nibbled at some call... to cast a circular shadow on the earth; his plague of infinite cord yielded not to his surreal lobes, yet unwittingly he had planted some lodes in rock-fissures like the rhetoric from Aspasia of Miletus. On and on the earth leapt from its core to unveil the clandestine belly: its surface overgrown by a wider range of possibilities than the mere imaginings of his lobes; the lingering echoes of transparency raised the phantasm of many not unlike he partook of the acquiescence of the priestess Diotima of Mantinea... Web-spinners of thought pouring their contents into the empty cups: Euripides, Aeschylus, Sophocles, Homer, Demosthenes, Menander, Herodotus, Meno, Theaetetus, Plato, Aristotle, Xenophon and himself... and the mythopoets: Orpheus, Persephone and Dionysus or Bacchus... equidistant from the centre of complex philosophy. Chained by their own shadows and illusions, the dikasts justiciated his thirst for realities as asebeia and disoriented porch, seen to be eternally engulfed by the throes of ideological impotence, the canon of decadent intellectualism... hence granted cold water from the lake of hemlock.
A good poem can't say much for the enjoyment as it was a struggle with some of the language as i had to do research, i dont mean this as an insult but would be a good idea to write so the readers may better understand your excellent work.
Very good content and language Tunji. I had only wished you wrote this poem in lines and phrases and not as continuing prose, I also mean breaking them up to verses. It is more for the readers to have an easy way to read. and to hang on there where you start and you end. Well, poets have poetic license. I only hope you have also some poems which follow the structure we are used to see...
Nice catch. Such a milestone of human civilization, yes, a personality stands alone as the milestone of a whole civilization...Socrates, the one yet illuminating with high radiation refracting the beams much deep to a thoughtful human..... Whether alive or dead there is no existence at all... the chaser could pick some new flowers from infinite just to make our existence lovable...but the truth is truth. We yet have not got such light to overpower this wisdom...... WELL WRITTEN WITH BRILLIANT METAPHOR AND DICTION MUCH HEROIC TO ESTABLISH THE FINDINGS OF GRAVITY..... Human seldom becomes an ocean but SOCRATES....Thanks for sharing....................................Pranab k c....................................10+++++
Well written. This gives a review of past legends. Your words are overwhelming, keep this up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I was magnetically attracted to this title. I am glad there are people who still delight in exploring the lives of the people who actually lived what they thought and died the way they thought. The perspective you've taken here is quite unusual, just as you are by the way. I mean in terms of vocabulary choice. You've picked up the basic eternal conflict between 'ideological impotence' that always believes itself capable of judging what does not fit into its limited interests and transplanted it directly into our own time with the use of a contemporary style. You did the same thing in the text The Lake of Hemlock. I read all the textures you've made so far and feel a need to tell you I enjoyed your witty choices, I feel they're not deliberate choices just a spontaneous way your brain works. Wish you all the best in your future writing. I have no doubts about the outcome, it'll be the best.