Give Me Thy Hands Poem by Aloke Mukherjee

Give my thy hand, great anarch!
Give me thy sinews with power stored
in my fiber to fiber synapse to synapse,
to defy the Olympian order, or give me Hemlock
to die bound on a rock before they can eat my heart.

I have a soul to live with, a heart to love my woman.
On the sky, I see the eagle circling, swooping down to
burn my soul, your slave, making excuses to eat my
heart! what do you think? I am whimpering wimp
'cause I am a poet, 'cause I paint the beauty of this
magnificent earth on a big canvass- you know, I brought
the fire for the dreamers, I tilled the virgin soil for the
green. lo, the glaciers are drifting down on my little valley
to suck in the little warmth I brought from Olympian dale

My sweetheart, before the end closes on like a vicious darkness
I want to enter your young beautiful body, love will burn in the
in the crystal, split into many hues of rainbow and tide will swirl
in my arteries, for world will watch for a while as I rise from
the ashes like a titan challenging my gods on the Olympia!