The Death of Zeus
Throughout the heavens
above each snowy peak,
the glimmer of the distant
beacons of morning and of dawn,
The Great Zeus nested calm in the serenity,
on both cloud, mount, and whipping winds.
Days bled like the beads of the salty
brine upon sand and rock askew,
the rivers pored sweetly through his toe,
they poured sweetly though his heel, calf.
Gentle sip of the wine of Dionysus
threaded the parchment of his throat.
Days sauntered, days flooded,
the heavens smoothed across his skin.
From the cove of the crooning nymph,
Zeus fed softly upon their breasts
and suckled feverishly their tender thighs,
born into the crisp jest of laughing skies, winds.
Loved and beloved, the days were lucid,
the time of Cronos wrapped about his breast,
age came, the stars caved beneath him,
he slipped into the chimes of the elder.
Sinking beneath the waters of the broiling sun,
Zeus had fairer days behind him.
The hair of his head slipped from him,
each strand there fell a hundred million spears
as the winds carried his thread to crush.
The Earth was pummeled to grain and pebble,
the Earth destroyed in a moments touch,
the haven, Mount Olympus, severed to crumbs.
Zeus, looked to the moon, frantic,
fled to his old love the Moon, Selene.
She bid him softly and so they made love
heavily for two Eons.
The threshing of their mouths
opened the sky in a fraction of a gilded kiss.
They made children, the numbers of the sky,
each twinkling Zion patterned the night’s heavens.
Their sweat made the rock
their sweat made the waters of the newborn universe.
The oceans came from the creams of their love,
and the milks of Serene poured vivaciously.
In the last moment of Zeus’ breath,
he kissed the mouth of the moon,
let out a lucid moan,
dipped his motions in a flurry
and his last breath gave air to the new universe.
He slept forever, peacefully.
Donny Barilla has been writing poetry for over three decades and had maintained a passion for poems of nature, love, mythology, and intimacy. He lives in the state of Pennsylvania and draws from the landscape which continually surrounds him. His first book, “Treasures” has been released in August of 2016. He lives a reclusive lifestyle and finds great inspiration in the beautiful nature that surrounds him.
Alex Duensing. Graduate of William Paterson and Columbia? Yes. Ran for St. Petersburg, FL City Council? Yes. Won? No. Stopped Mayan Apocalypse on rooftop with performance art? Yup. Strange but nice fellow? Clearly. Protégé of Arakawa+Gins, masters of the architectural body? Ongoing even after the supposed end. Able to create mechanical engines that run completely on the energy a person creates while appreciating a painting? On delightful rare occasions.