fortunate riddles - an amateur exercise in poetry
Guys! Guys! Heads up, I just figured out what I could post here! Some of my older-ish poems/prose-thingies. I used to pass the time writing haikus, which was fun, but I also have some longer ones. Like this one here, written for some long-forgotten assignment and loosely based on the play Oedipus Rex. I'm sorry about the odd formatting.
Fortunate Riddles.
-that there are other worlds than these.
So how is it, then, when a man’s own delusions are invaded
so rudely
so undeniably
so permanently
By the broken lights of dawn?
What happens now?
Those qualities of the world beyond the world
beyond the seer’s eye
beyond the veil,
are these the only things that matter?
When, in protecting the ones you love,
you seal their doom,
as well as your own,
you begin to suspect that there was something lost in translation.
Divine will, truth that turns into lies,
lies that turn into truth,
Oracular prophesies that bespeak of fallen empires and fallen hopes and fallen fathers
of banishment and incest and fate
of liars and truthsayers and rot.
Achilles’ Heel, the specific realm of the powerful and the fragile
Pride is a sin, didn’t you know?
It starts with deceit and ends in tears,
as most things do.
(the only difference is the space between.)
Blue-blooded tears soak the cracked, dying ground at the end,
a mockery of the years and the fears.
The sphere of influence is a joke,
because anybody knows that nothing matters but for the will of the gods.
Some learn this the hard way.
Past, future,
Always these and nothing more.
and, above all, never forget-