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Odysseus Begs?
He’s leaning on a Pluto niche machine:
an ATM, balanced on his good leg—
a fresh appearance in an ancient scene—
a bandaged hand gropes slowly out to beg.
Was he Odysseus, sail raised to breeze,
carving current never plied before?
Herodotus, or old Diogenes?
Or mad Colombo raiding tropic shores?
Or did he fall apart in modern war,
from Agent Orange, or deadly roadside bomb?
He could be forty, could be eighty-four,
could be Gulf One, or Two, Nam, or Taliban.
Or was he coughed here by some other cause?
Lost child, hard times, lost job, hard drugs, divorce,
lost god, lost friends, an avalanche of loss
till all that’s left is liquor and remorse.
We stride along, we all avoid his eyes.
Can’t let him go and ruin our busy day
of stocks and bonds, of loans to amortize,
of spreadsheets, legal briefs, and roles to play.
We turn, we gaze down at our shining shoes,
content to know we’ve got so much to lose.
.
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The Poet Who Saw Almost
Nothing and Said Less
Obituary for a W.C. Williams Wannabe
His lyric scope was scrupulously narrow:
He shared the pangs of difficult divorce—
whined a bit when nicked by Cupid’s arrow—
mourned his late dog with understated force.
Chickens pecking under wheel barrows called him
to celebrate quotidian events.
Old gals with bags of bleeding plums enthralled him.
Ideas were of little consequence.
His simple lines were touted as a virtue.
His lack of daring hailed as bold, refined.
His genius? That he’d never try to hurt you,
and heaped no troubles on your troubled mind.
.
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Bob Schildgen is a poet and environmental writer who was managing editor of Sierra, the national magazine of the Sierra Club from 1997 to 2005. For 15 years he was author of a popular column and blogs, “Hey Mr. Green,” and published a collection of the columns in 2008.
A neat and well-executed mixture of classical and eternal themes in ‘Odysseus Begs’ and a call for poetry of consequence in ‘the poet’. I like both. Thanks.
Two amazingly thought-provoking reads, Bob. I found your closing couplet of ‘Odysseus Begs?’ very poignant.
Your second poem suggests that perhaps, since it’s such an important topic these days, you would be able to share some of your environmental writing.
Thanks for your take on homelessness, compassion, and on the power of the word.
The second poem has nothing whatever to do with environmentalism. It’s a sharp satirical commentary on the clipped and reticent nature of modernism, as represented by the work of William Carlos Williams and his disciples.
Bob, I liked your poems. “Odysseus Begs” is particularly thought-provoking. Too often we simply ignore the downtrodden.
Both are fine poems. Thanks for sharing them. The first one indeed is particularly cause for thought.
Desultory also has a place in classic poetry.
Hey, Mr. Green. Here’s another take.
Zarathustra Speaks
by Acwiles Berude
In the great hall, he found himself amongst the trenchermen.
Athena cleverly disguised him as a beggarman.
The suitors there were feasting on hogs, cattle, goats and sheep,
as he began his rounds of asking for handouts to eat.
Most of the suitors gave a scrap of meat or crust of bread,
but arrogant Antinous heaved a stool at his back.
Odysseus did not attack; he kept his calm, his head;
but wished before the brute could meet his bride he’d meet his death.
And that he would, when later all the suitors came to grief.
He’d be the first to get an arrow to his neck, Siegfried.