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aegis of the achaeans

the sun is risen again
like how alexandrus set Venus his altar
and fatling illumined for Menelaus , Minerva

... and Saturn's eldest daughter, spake of Mycenae
for ferns over the hills of a Shepherds palms
over summits in the wasted wake of mariners
in requite hetacombs of a winged archers frond
that salt the throng tassels of the circled sky
before the sleeping whisks of the waxing knight
as nectar in the cup of some great immortals
meteor and pyres of the grounded ox horn

and the shaft of grazing unicorn are burnished
that the purple Ivy's of the glorious sun acquits
the field uprears her jowl with the serried blueberry
crests on the glamour of wielding glistening rays
laughter amiss ire conurbations of joves meadow
aegis bearing the victorious valour,as darkness veils
poplars in the perishing warmth of gleaming sunshine
by the waterside of the jagged gorges
poises amidst the gushing thrall of corpulent corpses

stoops as the mighty tower roaring at the banks
sang of the infuriated displeasure embedded in bronze
full chrome unprotected of the brash suns ways
and on the turf hillside of the Merino
the cattle bridled defenceless to any danger
chariots to steam for the stars of heaven
in frolic homestead and celestial inhabitation
surly of an equivocal emptiness to come
when the fraught opalescent meteors concede...

it found him gazing furious amidst the Brink's
the string of gold arched by the creature of Prometheus
fulfills the wounded herbs torn from the soothing stems
with empty and dazed concoctions screeds the slackened ranks
in older things subjugated by tarnished gradation
memories full,but sacked of allowance to viaticum
in furtherance to cuddle the strained epitaph.

cantata uno : The solitude of clemenestras may I lie
Dappled In the vaults of some cataracts
are fays of shadows who die too often
and have barely immemorial of ostriches
they flea like hungry flies with backbone cramped

and the geode was for their prospering crystals
the brief parturition of canoemen with oars
and paddles of the drenched eagles
beneath the earth of carbozylic rendering kind

another set was in a human made lagoon
when four poor children mudslided
into the bankrupt essence of blood
in an irreversible magnitude to morbidity

now the kingly crown is buried alongside incontrovertible
the warm grass blades grew on the doomed box
doused with chloroform in a self mirror
making the blemish incalculably of orgies

breath was ransacked awning of the canvass
mauling the derisory beleaguered deprecatory extensor
the gnostic recognition of the swine hallucinates
rhombus in difficult grime of the mortuary

that you will plunder with the shame of living
in arsonist of the ricochet cupids eyes is blessed
o great king, towards the tarantula
and tourmaline replication of catastrophe

Editing stage: 


I have some problems with the poem. First of all it is all one sentence which gives the reader no opportunity to catch his breath. It is a Wall of Words that I found difficult to read. You use a lot of references to Greek legend. Some of it is clear to me, but not all and most readers will know less (but that's not necessarily your problem).
It feels too much like prose with line breaks.
I did like the language use even though some was confusing.
Nevertheless, I hope you will continue it and I will come and read it.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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