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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TITANS IN CHAOS, by JOHN P. C. MCCARTHY
First Line: No equal hath each small eon
Last Line: Slowly enchroach these fates.
Subject(s): Titans (mythology)
First Line: No equal hath each small eon
Last Line: Slowly enchroach these fates.
Subject(s): Titans (mythology)
No equal hath each small eon,
Each world no ruling power,
As silent as these fading men.
With potential Titans
Prometheus, the earth
Filled against long struggles.
All men precede their sons;
All sons rise from their sires;
All progeny evolves.
Endowed breeds forget;
Endowed breeds admire;
These Titans we copy.
Generations unborn,
By their adverse goal won,
Struggle on encouraged.
From Appalachia
On to Cascadia,
In short jerks they conquer.
Some talents lie in books,
In work, in farms, in plants;
And every man his work.
The prairie-grass leaves they bind
To draw out new homage,
Should unwitting men mock.
Their breasts hath Chaos quit
For an Olympic home;
So, the first Greek fathers.
Likewise grow these men's sons,
And in each new pattern
Breathes that first life phyla.
Old plans new children bring;
New thoughts echo old;
Man is both old and new.
On Cascadia
From Appalachia,
Slowly enchroach these fates.
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