Headless Idol Of Helios

Headless Idol Of Helios
© Surazeus
2025 10 23

I hide regret for how I lose my brain 
when it detaches and floats among clouds 
with haughty disdain of the red balloon 
that drifts down to the hidden Cyclades 
to visit strange land where Poseidon rules 
through azure waters of unyielding hope. 

Since I am admired son of Helios, 
removed from political games of power 
long fought between contending gangs of thieves, 
I never meddle in daily affairs 
when money clerks shout in grand temple halls 
for whose social program defines the state. 

Though I have no idea what to do 
with bag of wind Aeolus sold to me 
to send our merchant ships across the sea, 
I give my precious pearls of solitude 
to every goddess I meet on the beach 
where they dance with abandon of the lost. 

From Babylon to Phoenicia to Rome 
I build great empire with the golden sword 
that Justice wields according to my whim 
to track where rebellious Icarus flies 
in revolution of the working class 
against divine kings in castles of glass. 

Shocked by the ardent gaze of holy fools, 
who replace my will with communal rules, 
I coil aggressive sorrow of my heart 
with lithe serpentine grace of honest greed 
around the Tree of Knowledge to proclaim 
that I will sell my kingdom for your horse. 

Entangled by confusing states of mind 
between empire and local farming rights, 
I gather trash of lies strewn along roads 
while reciting riddles of social codes 
designed by Homer to explain why gods 
deign to play with proud humans in chess games. 

Stuck somewhere deep in maze of national myths 
about superior wisdom of my race, 
I study headless idol of Helios 
that toppled from its lofty pedestal 
when silver airplanes of angels dropped bombs 
in world war that shattered Kingdom of God. 

Wandering with my Muse in pine-thick hills 
around holy Mount Takoma white with snow, 
I find the long-lost lyre of Mercury 
so I walk east along ancestral roads 
from Oregon to Avalon to Rome 
and sing about the Fall of Icarus.