Ant God
a myth of failure, lightning, and Zeus’s heat-seeking dick
i have been very tired—tis why i didn’t post Monday or Wednesday. I also have been writing more lyrics than poetry recently, lmfao.
you've never heard of me i bet you fifty gold that i am a name unmet let me bleed you a tale watch it sparkle like ale as i tell you about my folly fighting on the top of the skies i set light to the diamond rain feel the lightning in my veins a zeus made creation, i embody for i am the god that no one really wanted i fall through clouds tumble down the mountains athena barred me from olympus i've pissed of dionysous-- don't crash his parties unless you bring wine and a good time my lightning fizzles it bursts and sizzles never cracks never roars too weak too thunder too poor too plunder born from the earth and dust zeus fucked an ant hill and out from it i bust fully formed covered in dirt and bugs ants like me i fear them they're terrifying beady eyes-- many legs it fills me full of dread i squeal jump through the seal barring my entry to olympus yet they persist follow me like black mist right at my bare heels the goddesses scowl poseidon howls crackling with laughter smacking his leg faster i am but amusement for these cowards athena stops me the ants crawl up me i scream push her into a stream before tumbling back down the mountain right into the sea the ants build a raft save me from the crabs haul me back to land with a plop very grand i cough and sputter look at the ants-- one is my mother they saved me unlike those rotten gods up on their pedestal drowning in gilded rot the ants, they love me they wipe away my tears-- it takes many, but they succeed their footsteps tapping a hum of dreams a melody of the elders of my ancestors i am their king they whisper secrets lift me up they power me with them i strike lightning burning bright it hits an ant-- it expands growing 1000 times its size ...what the fuck? i try again another expands all because of my hands i am more than a god of man i am the god of ants
Wow, this is salivating adrenaline! Les Murray says something about being stopped in his tracks, while reading poems, and asking "Now why did the poet do that?" This happens all the time. It's part of the code-breaking. When a word or phrase appears that's arresting, it does two things: it challenges my perceptions of seeing/hearing/feeling, and it moves me into new territory. By this I mean an altered state of awareness that's akin to an extenders daydream, where all my senses conspire to provide fertile and syntactically engaging words or lines. It happens rarely, but when I'm there I tend to make the most of it, for days sometimes.
Perhaps I'm not the only reader who finds this poem a cacophony of jubilation, in a ghoulish way -- like a stand-up vampire!
Awesome work.
Alright. I would like to connect, read eachothers on a consistent basis. Subscribe, I imagine our bonded willpower with these exercises will bear much fruit. I'll be in touch!