The Logos of Antisthenes

An Audience of Shades and Gods? How Droll.

For when I spoke in life I spoke to those

who were not to be seen and not to be talked of.

The Nothos were my friends, my partners and my lovers.

But recalled from final home, I find a throng

much greater than I could have imagined.

What words of mine have you read? What books

that I scribbled between falling and sleep?

None. For none cared to keep them safe from

my fellow soldiers who acted under orders honorable.

My words lost, a truth that was mine muted.

In the service of the everlasting state.

I speak wrongly of those who did what they must.

For that was what I did my long and fruitful life.

I spoke praise to the Gods, not because they demanded

But because they earned it through their inspiration.

I did not speak against the assembly,

For who would tend to the poor if I were abroad,

Joining my teacher on a journey, with a civil toast.

No, far better flourish unseen, far from the fingers

Of hungry men who would ravage my works to support

iniquities dire. A fitting station to only be heard

by those who strain the ear for the distant notes

that sound among the cacophony of dogma.

So raise the sign of the white hound once more

and join me in good cheer. Perhaps you care to

wrestle a bit? A rousing match of body so

that I might know your tricks and adjust my balance.

I jest, for I suspect you are not a wrestler.

And it is a cruel wrestler who lunges upon

the weak to prove his strength. Of course

appearance can lie as well as any words.

So while the muses grant us favor, let me

speak of a day when the ashes of Troy smoldered.

When the Heroes of my mortal home,

arrayed themselves before a fire such as this.

Let Clio tell of what was passed on to learn.

Let Calliope veil well what is not to be spoken of.

And let Euterpe set us a glorious anthem,

To Set the heart alight and the mind free.