Young Prometheans

This post features the latest poem by a dear friend and gifted poet, duly published and awarded, Craig Helms. He told me that that final stanza of his poem was "inspired by John Waters' book Beyond Consolation." The accompanying photograph was taken by another gifted and dear friend, Sharon Mollerus.

Whispers in the grass fade into nothingness.
Between the light and dark of twilight, stars
explode and disappear without a sound.
Savage colors dance on grim cathedral walls,
spin ever faster in the silent, sapphire night.

The gaping mouth of desperation
howls like a wounded phantom
tortured screams that echo deep
into the chasm’s hollow blackness,
and swallows fire as if to still
a hunger only love can quench.

Mendocino Rock, by Sharon Mollerus

We shine like martyred prophets, broken
as fragile ships cast upon jagged rocks.
We reach in vain for ways to conquer death, to
sidestep pain. We are more than men, but less than gods;
young Prometheans bound to our presumptuous dreams.

Poem published with permission of the poet who retains the copyright: © C. F. Helms 2016. The photograph posted with the permission of the photographer, ©Sharon Mollerus 2016.