Le Temps Revient...

Poetry, Music, Art & Ideas for the Archaic Recurrence...

sábado, 31 de agosto de 2013


Restricted thoughts of a forgotten race
Eumenides chase us from place to place
Apollo leads us on to waste
Dionysus set the pace.

Destruction was wrought by Furies far and wide
Bliss in negations, never besides
Ulterior mind frames, all can be left to pride...

Kostas: Pontian lyre
Leigh: Guitar & Vocals

viernes, 16 de agosto de 2013


An ancient bard makes his debut at the sanctuary of Epidaurus...

Frail uncertainty of future life 
   Has no bearing on an opponent’s fight, 
   Many noble souls’ unrepenting strife, 
   Each attempt descends into darkest night, 
   Every free spirit enchained, denied sight
   Of passions, took us away from that bond,
   Servitude has known not of wrong nor right,
   Deep embittered patience still remained fond
For conceptual beauty! We forever longed!

Then as now stumbling through an era, 
   Eventually to go by the name, 
   A classical age, Apollo’s lyre, 
   Or affinities holding true, the same, 
   Reminiscences, most have always been tame
   Followers, few deserve remembrance, 
   Those who invent another type of game, 
   Set the dice rolling until decadence 
Misuses cultural riches through fat opulence!

All institutions plagiarize anew, 
   Give ethical clarity, sense denied,
   The family where sons & daughters grew, 
   Was founded on a stone deep red blood dyed, 
   Against the instincts obligingly lied, 
   Suit propriety, avoid provocation, 
   True loves passion, forgotten, pushed aside.
   Deadly union, honour’s destitution, 
Mutual wealth poached into cold extinction!

Our world is abound with divine pretenses, 
   That have always sought to hold their harsh sway, 
   Divide unequally, raising fences, 
   To show who is banished and who can stay, 
   Invoking difference between those who’d say,
   That we have no quarrel with each other, no!
   Rather they would try to keep us at bay. 
   Final indictment their weak powers show, 
Lofty in abundance! Yet spiritually low!

High-minded princes, bravery’s fountain, 
   Not always the case we see poets told.
   Men suspicious, unbelieving, doubting, 
   Mythology cut off in days of old.
   The relevance that such tales should hold, 
   Over disparity of meager ways,
   Not caring for eloquence unless sold.
   Something fit to wile away idle days,
The genius amongst us grudgingly displays!

The now ruined city of Mycenae
   Was once founded by Perseus of fame, 
   Who rode the wingèd horse elegantly
   And the snakes of Medusa’s hair did tame, 
   He brought low the Kraken, that very same
   Threat to Andromeda, African bride, 
   Whose former suitor he was forced to maim,
   Only the hauntiness of such Greek pride, 
Could indulge romantic rivalry to be set aside.