PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

[After the style, subject matter and

several specific poems of Constantine Cavafy]

Elderly and afflicted by those

conditions that the years of old age impose,

he sits---on a public bench, outdoors---in the

seedy part of Alexandria.  The warmth of the

noontime sun, well past the equinox, dispels the

sudden stabbing aches that haunt and harass

his failing joints:  a welcome, but temporary,

relief from the accumulated but quiet agony

he must endure.  Despite the sprawling, decrepit

appearance of this part of the city---the

city of Alexander's memory and the Ptolemies'

splendor; the city of the Mouseion and the

very prominent lighthouse---some beauty (oh,

such exquisite beauty) remains in that unkempt,

untrimmed garden, open to anyone passing by.  The

small plot is occupied by a marble statue of the

beautiful Antinous; a splintered, rough-hewn roof

prevents bird droppings and other falling

debris from degrading or damaging the statue.  This

amazingly accurate and precise likeness of

Antinous presents his gorgeously adolescent

physique in very erotic nakedness, and fully

engorged and erect as if ready, even now, for love.

Commissioned by the grieving Emperor Hadrian,

sculptures like this can be found all over the

Empire; but only this one in Alexandria.  And

here, many couples whom male to male love has

brought together come. often holding hands, to

gaze upon Antinous, the great---perhaps the

supreme---epitome of juvenescent male beauty, to

which desire gravitates like a planet to a star.

Sometimes these couples (long-haired, often barefoot,

lithe and slender in their youthfulness, and

rejected by their respectable families because they

love each other) exchange a kiss in homage to

Antinous; and later, in their comfortable and

welcoming beds (although their apartments are

shabby tenements always in some disrepair), they---

bestirred by the thought of Antinous and their

own shared fantasies about him---make love.  The

glistening sweetseed they release on to or into

each other, at the simultaneous moment of pleasure's

ultimate peak, becomes like an offered gift to

Antinous, to whom they come eagerly and as often as

possible.  The old man, still seated on the ancient

bench, manages to smile at the thought of the

intimate joys these lovers share, just as he once

shared them with the Emperor, before the jealous

rage of Vibia Sabina, and the ravages of time and

ill health, made him a refugee---from Rome,

Bithynia, and Hadrian's gentle need for him; and

struck even his own name away.  But gorgeous young

men, in love with each other, keep the name alive

between themselves, although they do not usually

noticed the gnarled, crippled, dying old man to 

whom their passing by has brought a smile to the 

midst of the monotony of his hopelessness. 

Starward-Led