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Go Tell the Greek

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  • Go Tell the Greek

    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.
    Enthrall, 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.

  • #2
    '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....'

    What a hauntingly beautiful piece!!! You had me hooked from the first line, weaving a fantastical atmosphere - and I had goosebumps by the last line! I wish I could give this a thousand likes.


    • Tony Grannell
      Tony Grannell commented
      Editing a comment
      Hello N.Y. Sonnet, I am very much pleased you enjoyed this one, goosebumps and all. It is a deathbed scene really, the pangs of guilt of a life misspent in the pursuit of money, power - too late to repent, too late the Greek, if you like. Your response is lovely and so very much appreciated. Regards, Tony.

  • #3
    I just love this Tony!! You kept the story and flow going. Just wonderful.


    • Tony Grannell
      Tony Grannell commented
      Editing a comment
      Hello AlexandratheLate, How delighted, I am that you loved this tale of greed and ghosts. It took me a while to complete, as you can imagine so your response has made it all worthwhile and for that I am most grateful. Regards, Tony.

  • #4
    Tony Grannell Another magnificent one, Tony. A real treasure we have here. Enthralling, engaging and I could feel the words.


    • Tony Grannell
      Tony Grannell commented
      Editing a comment
      Hello Suz-zen, Magnificent! I'm over the moon, a full moon at that. What a lovely thing to say. I'm humbled, really, as I am overjoyed. Thank you very, very much indeed. Regards, Tony.

  • #5
    Splendid! What a tour de force! I feel like giving a standing ovation. Powerful stuff, Tony.


    • #6
      Hello grant, Well, What can I say, if I could, I'd shout you a dozen beers, a baker's dozen at that. A response to treasure and treasure it, I surely will. Regards, Tony.


      • #7
        This is like waves of undulating truth, Tony!

        Not a squandered syllable!

        Top drawer!



        • Tony Grannell
          Tony Grannell commented
          Editing a comment
          Hello Dwayne, Lovely to hear from you again and as always your response is so very much appreciated, you are always kind. Regards, Tony.

      • #8
        wow Tony. Go Tell!!! the four winds are not enough to carry praises for this one.


        • Tony Grannell
          Tony Grannell commented
          Editing a comment
          Hello lunar glide, Such praise, I'm flabbergasted, truly. I do thank you ever so much. Kind as always. Regards, Tony.

      • #9
        A tour de force of reflective mastery. I applaud you my poet friend - this is wonderful.


        • Tony Grannell
          Tony Grannell commented
          Editing a comment
          Hello RhymeLovingWriter, Such a lovely response and so very much appreciated, it surely is. Your words, 'poet friend' warms and gladdens me. Regards, Tony.