Go Tell the Greek

by Tony Grannell   Mar 3, 2020

From oils on canvas framed in teak,
a goddess spoke to me in Greek.
A tale of light, the journey there,
seductions, greed and dark despair.

Of pages flicking ancient verse
though dead the bards, they still converse.
Where beauty waits, where I should dare
to face the storms to weathers fair.

Of those who sing, the light, rejoice;
to seek, I must, to find my voice.
To follow through, a song to where?
Whatever music brings to bear.

But where to look, so vast the land,
to dig a well in desert sand?
In hopes, a spring, the truth, declare,
to breathe the light from honest air.

I've searched, I've journeyed, how I've aged,
how I have hated, thieved and raged.
How I have faked the grand affair;
of pretence, I'm a connoisseur.

Traversed the lands and sailed the seas,
I've kicked the dirt and lost the breeze.
I've played the pimp, the debonair
and coward from my nom de guerre,

Temptation's lure, of vice and whim,
how easy to succumb to them.
Enthral, entwine, entice, ensnare
whilst angels cried, 'Beware, beware! '

I've spat on beggars and watched men bleed,
heard children cry yet paid no heed.
The light from coin, that manmade glare,
my everything, my everywhere.

To hell, be damned, the devil's bent;
well, so be it, I shan't relent.
How dare you ask, a moment spare,
to mend my ways, my wear and tear.

What of it then! It's my disgrace
if power's won by trailing grace.
What breaks the soul let hope repair,
who hopes in wealth, who'd even care?

Am I not of the light of fame,
deserving praise, I've won the game?
Frame me in teak, let trumpets blare,
where seated on my lofty chair.

A form in stone of chiseled pain,
from quarried years, she waits my name.
She looks at me, that sculpted stare,
'Go tell your masons to prepare.'

Of nightmares, ghosts unearthing guilt,
out of the empire I have built.
For coin and light can never pair,
there's only light without compare.

Of money's worth, a hollow might,
and nothing thrives in phoney light.
My kingdom come, in disrepair,
I should have shone outside the square.

I hear the scythe, the reaper's toil,
let not the undertaker spoil.
There must be light, on this, I swear;
go tell the Greek, I'm nearly there.


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Latest Comments

  • 4 weeks ago

    by Milly Hayward

    Wow! This is brilliant. From start to finish great imagery, rhyming, and a great rhythm. I'm not one who enjoys long poems normally but I couldn't stop reading. Well done on an amazing piece of prose. I loved it and would have nominated it but Brenda beat me to it. Definitely one for my favourites. Milly x

    • 4 weeks ago

      by Tony Grannell

      Hello Milly,
      Yes, it is a tad long, but you persevered and for that I am grateful, so, too, for your lovely response. Thank you ever so much, most kind of you indeed.
      Kind regards, Tony.

  • 4 weeks ago

    by Maher

    Another of the kind of rhyming poetry I love. Beautifully written with plenty of colour and depth. Thank you for sharing, good Sir!

    • 4 weeks ago

      by Tony Grannell

      Hello Maher,
      Delighte to hear from you again and you are most welcome. Your words are very much appreciated.
      Kind regards, Tony.

  • 1 month ago

    by Blake

    This is beautifully made and I imagine took a long time to write. Hopefully I’ll be able to make art like this in the future.

    • 4 weeks ago

      by Tony Grannell

      Hello Blake,
      Delighted to meet you,
      Yes, indeed, it did take a long time to write, as do most of my poems. 'Beautifully made', what a lovely thing to say, I'm honoured. Thank you so very much, very kind of you.

      Fond regards, Tony.

  • 1 month ago

    by Brenda

    Nicely rhymed and flows beautifully, nominated-

    • 1 month ago

      by Tony Grannell

      Hello Brenda,
      Most kind of you to read and respond, I do thank you ever so much.

      Regards, Tony.

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