Cyclops 

When days of distress 

fell upon my head 

without delay 

from dawn to dusk, 

then waylaid my brain 

without hinder let 

from dusk to dawn 

a pure, sheer pointlessness 

minus reasons or 

regret 

or cause, as though I'd 

broken karmic law 

or escaped by leap 

some omen claw. 

Or spent too long 

forgetting that God 

long forgot 

just this gnawing 

thought of sudden 

sadness felt 

from unknown spot 

deep within 

that told me gut of 

truth of guilt 

unsought.

 And showing me why Odessey's Ulysses

along with friend

and foe alike conceived the locus of thought to be

not head nor heart 

but solar plexis 

with cloudless night