I am Penthos (Grief)

I am the way into the doleful city, I am the way into eternal grief, I am the way to a forsaken race. Dantes Inferno.

Angel of grief, a 1894 sculpture by William Wetmore Story which serves as the grave stone of the artist and his wife Emelyn at the Protestant Cemetery, Rome. Photograph by Alessio Damato (http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Alejo2083). This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/)

 

 

I am Penthos¹ (Grief)

 

"I am the way into the doleful city, I am the way into eternal grief,

I am the way to a forsaken race...Abandon all hope, ye who enter

here."  -- Dante’s Inferno. 

 

 

Recollection has paled.

When did I arise?

In ages dim, I think.

But I awoke with Man.

The Greeks did first name Me.

But I was here before then.

In darker ages I arose.

In deeper mists I was formed.

I remember not,

But now I am here.

 

 

...And here I live and feed on Man!

 

 

I burst full formed onto Life.

I am Penthos.

I am the despair that men fear.

I am grief.

I am utter abandonment of hope.

 

I am worse than death,

For I give no mercy.

I am relentless.

I revel in despair and wailing.

Sweet is the sound of gnashing teeth.

Sweet are the sounds of beaten breast,

The palpitations of unending pain.

 

I am death without release.

I am suffering without recourse.

I am pain without redress.

I wallow in utter ruin to person,

Dissolution of hope and humanity,

Reduction to hovelling mass,

Ruination for ruination’s sake,

Beyond any hope of reprieve.

 

I AM GRIEF!

And I cannot be defeated.

 

I have crossed the river Acheron

And walked the circles of hell,

Sucking marrow from bones of men.

I make men hollow.

This is to my liking.

Hopelessness sweetens the meat!

Despair sings to Me.

It beckons “Satisfy your hunger!”

And I feast.

 

But bring not hope!

Bring not love.

Bring not that which lifts the Spirit.

I like them not!

Love’s hope, it burns Me.

Bring not that which harms Me,

That which pushes back my darkness.

 

Still, Man is weak.

Many have tried to contain Me,

Many to defeat Me.

But my power is old.

I cannot be vanquished.

 

I am your own.

I live in your fears.

I thrive through heartbreak,

And human condition.

You can’t dismiss Me,

For I am within you.

I am part of your soul.

You have fashioned Me

And I am fully yours.

 

I am Penthos,

Last of the gods to answer Zeus.

Through world of Man I roam,

Suckling on Man’s weakness.

 

For I am GRIEF,

And in life you cannot escape Me.

 

 

 

 

©2009, Richard Puetter

All rights reserved

 

Notes

 

^[1]Penthos is the greek god of grief. He was the last god to answer the call of Zeus when Zeus was appointing responsibilities to the gods and so only grief and despair were left when Penthos arrived.

Reviews

[The Hampstead Poet]

Superb! This poem shows such a complete understanding of Grief, one of the rawest emotions that can be felt. It is true, that in any life Grief cannot be avoided. I love especially that you personified this, and referenced it to the Greek myth of Penthos. It just enforces the feeling of how inescapable it is, and how deeply tangible it can be. An awe-inspiring write, thank you.

[Scott Free]

You learn something new every day. I had never heard of Penthos before this; but now I'm glad I know, because he comes often when you don't expect him.
^ Personal experience.
This was really well written. I like the classic verse a lot, and I love the mix of Greek mythology. Very good, Rick.
So sorry its taken me so long to get to this nugget of gold.
Love what you've done,

~Scott

[spence]

Ah! Sweet grief! If not for its bitter embrace the joys of life would be taken for granted- or so the buddha presumed. But how about striving for a world of minimal suffering in the knowledge of how devestating it feels to grieve? Now there's an aspiration to aim for!
On the poem though- what can I say without looking like a pure brown nose, suck up, a*s kisser? It built powerfully to a crescendo of certain mayhem- from consequental powers to an ominous unstoppable force hell bent on spreading chaotic anarchy. The flow was magnificent, as always, and your penchant for writing mythology is nothing short of awesome. I'm never short of compliments for great writers and I love your work! Just the truth : ) take care, spence

[Marie Anzalone]

"When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight./Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."/But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed. "- Kahlil Gibran

This is a very skillfully presented ode to a sentiment we'd rather not think about. Who among us has not felt the grips of despair and grief, those moments when all seems lost, and that the light of day cannot penetrate the darkness within? It was stroke of genius, I think, to deify that feeling, for it is such a powerful teacher in the world. if it were not for grief, from where would our joy truly arise?

[Andrew (not Andy, A.J. ..]

Very interesting.
I started out kind of being sad for Penthos, but then he started getting demonic. And by the end I'm like "What a creep!"
Good job. I don't have any criticism, really.

[Legion]

I like the monologue feel of this. Have always been fascinated with mythology (Greek or otherwise). This is exquisite. Well done Rick. Well done.

[Aiden- Aiko- Kiyomi]

Very well composed. You put an ancient age into the writing which made the god of grief seem so well versed and so properly composed that it seemed as if you could read the thoughts and feelings of Penthos himself. I wish you luck in the competition.

[jenniewren (J.W. Bouwma..]

what a perfect way to discver your words..

i love the classical framing you use, yet with a modern sparsity of of words.

the subject it relevant, and , for me, timely, and even better, visceral. (my but that's a lot of commas to use so early in a morning)

i could hear this proclaimed by Penthos in a big booming voice, as he sruts around the well-worn sufferers..... wonderful

[Fernando Pessoa]

You write with a gripping power that fills grief with a hunger that cannot be satisfied. Your imagery and all you composed here is brutally brilliant.

William Shakespeare: Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.

[C.T. Bailey]

It is...inescapable. The talons of grief latch on to those many who, once stricken, find themselves "shoveling sand" in order to emerge from the pain. Rick, this descriptive work is very good and well follows your pattern of historical revalations. You seem to excell in free verse and the more grand the subject matter the more "Everest-like" is the finished work. I like this. The use of all caps was a departure for me...but after re-reading and absorbing the context, I felt that I need to think out-of-the-box a little more in my own writing. Very nice Rick, and as is all of your work, very thought provoking.
Todd

[Greg Close]

I really enjoyed this. You have done the Greek mythos proud, as well as the classical style of verse that you seem to employ so effortlessly in your work. Again, you somehow pull this off without the stigma of "corny" that so often attaches itself to this style, and I remain amazed at your proficiency with the language. Reading it flows naturally; it's not forced or weighed down by needless pretension at all. In a couple of words... "Good Grief!" (I am truly sorry, it was impossible to resist that horrible pun).