Notes About The Poem
An extract from my epic poem The Way of Trilobites, available on Amazon. See PS classified.
Apollo and Dionysus: A Debate
Fair Dionysus, friend to all that’s small,
Rememberest thou 'divinity' at all?
Amidst thy congress here with drunks and whores,
Does any finer thing escape their roars?
The greater beauty lies in greater thought:
So, bless the seeker, not the stolid sot!
And do they ever look upon a star
As aught beside a torch to find the bar?
Thou tends thy flock and I tend mine.
Thine are dreary, mine love wine.
Thy flock and mine, they do abuse the wold.
Why, greater gods than we would wish them cold.
I can but save them if they’re in my fold.
Yet thou, of all the gods, they hold most dear.
I preach horizons, thou the pleasures near.
And if I congregate their youth to teach
That greater glory discipline may reach
Wouldst thou destroy the purposes I preach?
Though we are gods, we’re only gods, my friend.
I do not preach, I leave them to their end.
And if, on some occasions, I opine,
‘Tis but the passing comments of the wine.
If thou thy fine philosophies wouldst sell,
I’ll hold my feasts, and may we both do well.
For all thy feasts, yet sorrow’s still thy name.
This pleasant world we claim’s not whence we came.
Add not, to bitter memories, our own blame!
Float not our sorrow on a sea of shame!
And these, our drunken wards, we swore protect.
Nor does our duty die of their defect!
Before they and this planet shall be wrecked,
Must we as guardians act to some effect!
And so support the school I shall erect.
If not by hands of gods, by men they’ll die!
That Earth is mud that does not face the sky!
There is a little worm within this mud
That may survive the Heavens and its flood.
I hold my feasts, yet cannot taste my wine.
Thou guides the sun, yet walks not ‘neath its shine.
Zeus flings his bolts, yet never sees their rays;
And so for all us others, in our ways.
And when the dreams of gods awake the Earth,
Anesthetized, we cannot judge their worth.
Where thou admires in men what makes thee god,
For I, ‘tis deeper currents we find odd.
‘Tis but a deeper ruin that they reach.
‘Tis but one end, if not restraint we teach!
Too sober thou to see what’s true.
Thou sees but once, where I see two.
The day is near: I’m needed in the East.
Thou mightst work less! ‘Twould lengthen then my feast.
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