Poetry: Fhen M

Fhen M.

Agamemnon, a Cockfighter

On the hilltop, where an altar was built,

a man dressed in black waited for him.

A broken stone staircase, broken Greek columns,

led to a place covered by white smoke.

Birds clashed in a flurry of feathers and beaks.

An animal sacred to the goddess was killed

in a cockfighting arena.

The sea wind was not blowing; sails hung still.

Life's adventure was in another land.

Offering Agamemnon to the gods

would be a fitting and just atonement.

Or, he could turn to a handsome rooster,

and Actaeon's friends would capture him.

Birds clashed in a flurry of beaks and claws.

With a burst of speed, a rooster lunged at him.

Death to the Mycenaean king had come.

The wind started to blow.

***

Importance of Chickens

As the murkiness of night receded,

a plump chicken strutted onto the bed.

With a boisterous "cock-a-doodle-doo!",

the colorful rooster flapped its feathers.

The chicken's clarion call pierced the air,

echoed through the dark trees below the sky.

This friend channeled the spirit of Alectryon,

who watched over the gates of Olympus.

Alectryon fell asleep on the job,

transformed into a rooster by the gods,

doomed to announce the dawn for eternity.

My avian alarm clock reminds me

to leave the place 

before the Sun's chariot hurries near.

My girlfriend's parents were sleeping soundly;

I covered up and got dressed

before Helios told them of our affair.

***

Guido Cavalcanti in Circle 7

The head and torso of a woman

body and wings of a feathered rooster.  

Harpy, with graying hair, 

perched on a gnarled, monstrous-looking tree. 

On the inner bank of Phlegethon 

a wood where trees have their human form. 

Gamblers pursued through the wood by harpies.

***

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Setu, June 2025