[Nietzsche Circle][Hyperion]

The Muffled Lips of Apollo

a poem by

Rainer J. Hanshe

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Published in Hyperion: On the Future of Aesthetics, a web publication of The Nietzsche Circle: www.nietzschecircle.com, May 2010. Copyright © 2010 Rainer J. Hanshe and The Nietzsche Circle. All essays, interviews, and reviews are shared copyright between author(s) and The Nietzsche Circle. All rights reserved. Please contact editors for any concerns or for usage rights.

For J, of the invisible choir…

I found Apollo deathly pale,
his hair cut from his skull;
his body, like the bow of a ship,
hammered by an indifferent sea.

Bound, not free to roam
under the blazing stars,
arrows lay at his side
like flightless birds.

“What has become of your bow?”
I asked, carrying his slain body
in my hopeful arms.

“It is useless,”
he gently groaned in my ear,
“there are no more Olympians.
Never before have I bent
back my bow to come to . . .”

The sun fell from the sky
like a cold and barren rock
as Apollo’s lips muffled
these last words into my heart:

“Destruction!” he cried. “You shall know
it as never before——man.”

Staring into his deathly eyes,
I heard music pulsing in his chest,
his ivory pupils as pallid
as the moon’s eyelids.

“I blot all stars from the sky,”
the weary god clamored furiously,
collapsing at my feet.
“I render music senseless
to your insensate ears,— —
I cast you into pitch!”

“But Apollo,” I implored,
“what of us who urgently go down,
what of those who incubate
and hunt after the moon,
knowing time is but vapor?”

Deep within my propitious eyes
he peered, yet did not speak;
his breath whispered
as if to say good night ~

(published in Hyperion: On the Future of Aesthetics, a web publication of The Nietzsche Circle: www.nietzschecircle.com, May 2010)