we die forgotten

Cunning, not the feat of arms, brought fair Ilium low,

Unmasked Achilles gambit leading him to Troy,

Drove the swift knife into Iphigenia's breast

To ply cruel Artimus for fair following winds.

But the fates cut many lives short on Ilium's shores

Hopes of glory dashed for thousands who fought and died

Their shadows haunting Hades’ dark, lifeless halls:

Noble Hector no match for enraged Achilles,

Nor the son of Peleus, Paris' swift arrows.

Who won the laurel of Achille's golden armor

And was named Greatest of the Greeks if not Ajax?

But he who knew no honor save ruthless cunning,

Wily Odysseus, gained both, and the better man,

Mighty Ajax, fell upon his sword in sorrow,

His soul traveling the lonely roads to Hades’ keep.

But the gods' wroth did not end at the sack of Troy,

Agamemnon would rue his daughter's sacrifice

When his wife and her lover knifed him in his bath.

But he who deceived Troy with the horse filled with Greeks

Would spend ten long years trying to return to home....

...

Danger dogged our poor ship at every turning,

And after each our numbers shrank, first the cyclops

Then facing the ravenous six-headed Scylla,

And when we foolishly raided Helios's cattle.

But Circe's isle led to all the hell that followed....

...

Ravenous, like wolves, they entered my lodge, wretched

From suffering and want, wide eyed at my bounty

Meat and drink beckoned, yet their eyes strayed to my breasts.

But serving them Pramnian wine potent with herbs

I touched each with my wand, and lo, transformed to hogs,

Drove them with my staff to the pig sty for slaughter.

After, their captain, a lean, wily veteran

Entered my palace, the intent in his gaze veiled

And I passed a golden goblet of tainted wine

From which he drank deeply, before drawing his sword,

Pinning me to the wall, shouting ‘Restore my men!’

For some conniving god protected him with magic.

“I am goddess and cannot die though thy blade pricks,

Great King, sleep with me, which no man may dare refuse

For I can give thee pleasure thou hast never known.”

Slipping off my shift, his sword clattered to the earth

With my sorcery, he saw his wife Penelope,

And he wept as I led him captive to my bed

Till the dark shadows fell in the twilight gloaming,

And I restored his men to weep at their king’s feet....

...

Madness, blinding like a forsaken lover’s tears

Bridled Odysseus, and after, we his men .

Fair Circe’s magic bade us to forget our woes

And there long lingered we, shipwrecked by wicked spell.

Whilst we languished, Odysseus idled in love,

A long year mislaid, trapped upon her haunted isle

Feasting daily on meats and the sweetest of wines

Till evening when Circe bedded our captain

Whilst we dreamt of home, they lay in blissful embrace.

Eurylochus pled with Odysseus, ‘depart!

Beg Athena fair passage, for we long for home.

Ten years fought we in Troy and more did we survive

Poseidon’s wroth at sea and grave dangers on land

Have pity brave lord, remember Penelope

Let us set off for sea and fill our sails for home.’

Mighty Odysseus’s sanity returned

And begged Circe’s release and fair following winds

But in answer she gave a most perilous task

Her features shone Godlike, trembling he at the change.

‘King Odysseus, to house of Hades thou must go

And within its dark and terrible walls, a shade,

Of blind prophet Tiresias shalt thou inquire.

Dread Persephone hath whispered to him the means

For thou to return to Ithaca and thy home

Since wrothful Poseidon has sworn thy death at sea.’

But this learnt not I, till hearing my stout fellows

Prepare for sea whilst I lay drunk upon her roof.

Fearing they would depart and leave me lone behind

Leapt to my feet, slipping, fell and broke my poor neck,

Wraithlike I roamed, lost to oblivion’s terrors

Till finding Hades dark halls, and my way to thee,

Queen Persephone, fount of spring and light to all.

Whilst my brothers yet live and journey to these shores,

All cursed men, I fear they shalt soon join me in death,

Fools like me, followed Odysseus's mad quest,

Lo, my body unburied, my spirit unmourned

I beg thee upon my knees, let me be the first

To speak when my dread lord makes sacrifice to thee

Lest Thou also condemn me to lie unburied

And consign me to the depths in pain and sorrow....

...

I am the spirit and life of spring, Elpenor,

Birthed from my belly like a new babe from the womb.

Though wedded against my will, I am virgin still,

No prayer whispered in my name is left unanswered,

And no sacrifice of ewe nor bull unrewarded.

Though both fallen Greek and Trojan crowd our dark halls,

Neither Hades nor I deceived nor slew any.

Men should not be playthings in the god's petty wars,

Nor compelled to follow their kings mad for glory.

Thou alone, of both great and small shall entreat first....

...

Weeping my men unfurled the sails and let wind guide

Rudderless, our heading known only to the gods.

On board one ram and a single black ewe, a gift,

An offering to Hades and Persephone.

Entered we a terrible, forbidding darkness

And saw the dead lands, the bourn from which none return

Where we made our sacrifice and called out its ghosts.

Lo, they came, moaning with pain and frightful to see,

Pale with fear I drew my sword and let none draw near,

The blood from the sheep for Tiresias alone.

But Elpenor’s spirit pressed through the moaning wraiths,

And I cried out with grief when I beheld his tears,

Elpenor, how come thee here through the great darkness?

For we came swiftly as if winged by a god's breath

Yet not as swift as thee whom waited to greet us.

‘Persephone, guided my terrified spirit,

And though I entered a trackless waste at my death

Her heaven born voice called my name and I followed.

Mighty Odysseus, listen now to my voice

Give heed to my speech, do not leave me unburied

On that wretched, evil isle, abandoned to woe,

Return to give proper burial and burn me,

With my breast plate, spear and grieves lament my passing.’

I wept with his poor ghost and swore to make it so.

He returned from whence he came; and saw him no more….

...

Entering again Hade’s broad, forbidding gates,

I saw King Agamemnon naked and cast down

His chest boiling with blood and cruel shame forever,

And mighty Achilles and Ajax together

The greatest warriors of the Greeks, denied their due

When death and Odysseus’s wiles conquered both.

The hope of glory, not the beauteous Helen,

Launched a thousand ships to the shores of Ilium

Where no glory would be found, only brute slaughter.

These horrors witnessed will torment me forever:

Poor King Priam’s ancient head dashed upon the wall,

Hector’s son cast from Troy’s heights to the rocks below,

The Trojan women raped and their children enslaved.

They slaughtered bulls to the dark bloodlust of the gods

Whilst the mighty strutted and preened, divided spoils,

held games for the greatest to win Achilles armor,

holding tight to their breasts the widows still grieving

The wine flowing like blood once had on Ilium’s shores,

The greatest crying out ‘We are the only men!’

Whilst we die forgotten, their names live forever….