Icarus

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Since Icarus was just a boy, he dropped

Straight down to salted death.  His plummet yelled

Straight down, no gracefulness involved.  He plopped

Straight down.  Aegean waves then malest swelled.

Since Icarus was beautiful, he fell

In spirals, spirals, spirals with the swerve

Of gods since gods are ever in the spell

Of beauty, even in the arc of curve.

Since Icarus was silly with new hair

Upon his chest, testosterone compelled

His recklessness.  He fell through god-like air.

Immortal gods all die, their lives dispelled.

The father of this swerving, willful boy

Knew well that gods laugh low when they destroy.

©  Phillip Whidden