Poeta Laureado De la Ciudad de San Jeronimo Peru
The Ill-omen of Istanbul
[A Dramatic Macabre Mythos in Poetic form;
About Achilles' Arrow]
I heard of a fable if I was in Istanbul, in 1996, it was of the Arrow of Achilles, absent achieve in Asia Minor; again I took a cruise into Asia Minor, and went to Troy, and several added cities, appropriately comes this Poetic Mythos,
Part V
End: the Parting
It was raining, aqueous apocalyptic red rain

If I awoke age-old in the morning—

Then, searching out my window came

A gray, gray dawn—ascending

Rising with the shadows,

Helen by their sides:

Happy I was, night had lift,

Took the cold, algid abhorrence with it

(That brought me cold, algid sweats)

Shadows, shapes, imps and alike:

Like broken curtains, alive away

All, now, in the adulterated atmosphere

As I Looked out my window—gray light…
This algid abhorrence that was abrogation slowly

This red, red apocalyptic rain: gray shadows,

Brooding: bouncing decrepit bodies:

I saw them arresting Achilles’ arrow

In a a lot of beastly adamant arresting way:

This red, red apocalyptic arrow,

That brought horror, ringside:

Area aural it, resided a countless of beings?

Of aroused raving, inept beings!

This red, red apocalyptic arrow

That casting its spell on me…
Part VI

The Afterward
I sucked in my breath, bankrupt up a bit,

And went down stairs for morning breakfast—

To accompany the group, with floundering suspicions;

Who never knew the accomplished of it,

Only that abeyance that acerbic larboard jabs,

Like a complaining sponge,

Never added to know

But the anguish of the heart!…
Part IV

Night Arrows
I’m not sure, but I acquainted I was hallucinating

Or was I absent in my sleep—?

Brooding over the atramentous of the cliff,

On its plateau, amidst by its woods

Aural its cave, area caliginosity afraid like bats

Afraid over me, incessantly, as I ducked,

Area resided Achilles’ assaulting red arrow.

Silent, I acquainted my red beef absorb me

The blackout became Deafening

(Bewildered, bemused, and confused)!
Ineffectual pawing, were the shapes

Hammering, as if I was the stake—

I approved to agitate them off:

Eerie evil: —I told my physique to awake

At the bend of my bed stood several

Of these Bluff dwellers, faceless:

Was I still in a dream state?
—Sleeping, the Bed and Morning
I took a additional glance at the clock

It was 3:30AM, area did the time go

Morning was abutting at hand, as this

Ghostly band did their demonstration.

Again I heard a whisper, murmur:

“Where is the red, red Arrow?”

An angry face echoed with it—.

The accent about battering me,

Impervious to my brain

It casting it spell on me—hostage

To arctic terror, arresting me,

Algid diaphoresis decrepit off of me,

Their that appears to smell rippled, swelled over me

With wild, Rhythmatical movements

Invoking: claret amazing to my heart

A active force accommodating to annihilation me.

“Where is the red, red Arrow?” they cried,

[huskily] in this amazing game.
The Arrow, Murmur and Helen
Under the bed went my duke in search

And begin the accursed arrow—at last

The arrow had a murmur: in a language

I had never heard, said, in alcove tone:

“We are the countless that Christ casting into the sows,

Taken out thereafter, now casting into this abandoned iron

Red, red arrow!!” so coiled this aural drum

Of a voice, that begged to be released,” and there

Beside my bed was the admirable and Helen naked.
As the woman lay on my besmirched bed,

Chanting to the arrow, as it inflected slashes,

Painful scratches, gashes: she bore them all:

“This was not a dream,” said the adorableness queen,

Helen of Troy, dancing, agrarian and chanting,

As the slobbering beatitude went on, with the

Blemished, devilish atramentous browed abrupt ghouls.
Gray Dawn
I did what I had to do; gray aurora crept near

Hence, I aerial up the arrow

Unmistakably, they chock-full chanting,

The arrow had a murmur: Helen, in my bed,

Now she pulled me in, Death was immanent,

I had done what they wanted—sinned,

—I again threw the Arrow at the six,

All choir emerged with, a salivating madness.
Part III
Alien Artifact: Achilles’ Arrow
The arrow was but an antiquity to Solomon,

Old Solomon the Muslim, from Cairo;

One with a bloody, baleful lineage, and legend;

But I capital what was above the myth,

Above the access of the Trojan War,

That had asleep Achilles’, and brought Troy’s ruin:

This Alien artifact, with beastly ken.
As we catholic through Asia Minor, aberrant were

The days, nights, visions and dreams:

Coming repeatedly, hideously active at times,

And there we were in the drums and fire,

Arrows cutting everywhere—so the battles

Bellowed above my mind, hour afterwards hour

As we catholic to acquisition the ‘Cave of the Arrow.’

And in accomplishing so, I larboard my bout of sorts,

Those association I had appear to know, in Istanbul.
I had larboard the bout for a spell, and if I had

Returned, was asked, “Did you acquisition

What you were searching for?”

And I said, “Of course!”
The Cult/Aboriginal Ghouls
The actuality roused, that we were getting followed

Uneasiness came to us—tourists on the bus!

No one fabricated a affiliation to me, with them,

With these abominable black-clocked barbarians;

This chase afterward the bus, from far abaft

Afterward us, these age-old ghouls, unfazed:

The arrow was conceivably their amulet for witchcraft

And the confined aroused beings, but toys!

—the captured active dead, Amulets to worship:

In this a lot of frightening, concealed hypogeum.
Perhaps they acquainted I ability set them free

For I had taken their Pandora’s box (you see);

But my interests were not in rituals, or alike:

Such as dancing in auberge corridors, as they….
In my sleep, I still dreamed of red apocalyptic flesh

Burning broiled to oblivion; atramentous magic;

Slaughtered women and babies, nightmares.
[Then:] while in Samaria, I absolved apace

By the docks: Merchants swayed,

Eyes silently engulfed— eyes belief me

Followed by the cult’s argent anemic moo.

Their Voices, angry— decreed:

‘The Arrow’s not castigation to keep.’
Part II
Haunted, and Old Solomon
The morning afterwards my arrival, I set out

To the basin area within, resided

A aerial cliff, in seek I went

For this allegorical red adamant arrow,

A few hours up and over the bouldered slopes—

In the basin above Troy’s reach

Here, contiguous I stood in the cave

Douse in sweat: Solomon pointing to the arrow

Underneath the rock—protruding…

There I pulled it out, took it, paid my adviser well,

As he accursed the arrow from hell,

Again left, as he had appear [Solomon]—.
There in the cave: signs of ancient feasts

[Sacrifices: had taken place]: animal, beastly bone
s,

Bits of rock weapons—broken Skulls…all around;
Skulls, bare bones; carvings on the walls

An age-old accounting language, to me unknown

Accounting in red flesh, by beastly bones.
Part I
The Aroused Arrow
I was continuing below the bisected broke walls

Of the city-fortress, fable calls Troy—

Acquainted the atmosphere of the armament that already fought here

The asleep seemed all around, red apocalyptic flesh

Cloaked with abashed visions, and the arrow

That abuse arrow, central my mind.
I had abstruse the present basin citizenry

Bisected invisible, ghoul abounding souls, accouchement and all

Were the age-old cults, Troy’s leftovers?

A base aboriginal race; so others told me:

But Solomon knew well, they had a backpack with hell

They were the keepers of the arrow.
“I told you, it’s a aroused apparitional item,” said

Solomon, of Cairo.

“What is so angry about it,” I exclaimed.

“Yes,” said old Solomon, “I will yield you to

the slopes, to the cliff, to the woods, to the

cave, there you will acquisition your mad dream.”
And so it was [and so it began]: the Journey.
Part one and two accounting 6/25/06, evening; allotment three and four 6/26/06, at EP Caf้; Allotment 5 and six, accounting 6/27/06, at home in Lima; revised 1 & 2 July 2006.
See Dennis’ web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Author: Dennis Siluk
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