A Homeric Ode for Your Friday


Went with a Homeric ode for today’s assignment (rhyme scheme: Abab cdecde) and reworked a poem I wrote on a tour bus in Scotland in 2001 because it was so damned close to a Homeric ode. Figured I’d go the extra mile and push it over the edge into Homeric ode territory. I painted the accompanying picture in my very brief, artist stage. Enjoy!

Riding through a painting where mountains sprawl
and the heart of Scotland beats.
Across fir-lined pelts, mists do crawl
o’er humped back Scotland down to its streets.

The sun kisses snowy peaks, whose tearful eyes
lock forever upon its saw dusted scars.
Where the logger raped, the old stumps sit rotting.
Tears freeze on every mountain, when Scotland cries.
Mournful winds sound out its suffering
as Scotland copes beneath the stars.