1821 Hellenic Blues
In Crete and in Mani
No cannon ever finds me…
-popular Greek song
Some call the blues uniquely
American, from the
Muggy Mississippi delta to the
Daunting nighttime streets of
Chicago, repetitive,
Progressive, peaking
& releasing & rife w/
heartfelt woe, at
Once springing from and revealing the Soul.
But the craggy peaks of Hellas cried a
similar strain, when
Ottoman occupants seized the
Cities, songs of loss,
Lament &
Anguish, as old as sin & fresh &
teary as the original composer, &
equally ephemeral, a
song enduring tho neither
Classical nor recorded, of proud people herded to the
mountains like so many
Sheep, never losing sight of
Their shepherd- w/out
Want-
Hopeless but for an indefatigable
Hope, based in
Faith…
Byron and Shelley found no Achilles reaming a musket nor
Alexander severing the Gordian knot, only
hungry, huddled masses waiting a fruitless wait on
great Catherine the blond for liberation, driven to
Fratricides between gasps on
Psiloritis, precursors to the mass exodus to
Chicago not to hear the
Wail, but to
[...] Read more
poem by Cretan Maineiac
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
