This poem is the result of me taking a poetry class and a classics class simultaneously during college and wishing I could write something as beautiful as Neil Gaiman’s “Instructions.” It’s very, very similar to “Instructions,” actually, and I like to think of it as an homage to both my favorite poem and my love of Greco-Roman mythology. I don’t write poetry often, and when I do, it’s usually very personal and hard to share. This, however, is different from my usual poetry, and as such, I’ve decided to include it here.

Enjoy.

Katabasis

By Kodi Gonzaga

First, bring two coins

(drachma is best, but any gold will do).

Do not place them over your eyes;

rest them beneath your tongue

to hide them,

to silence yourself.

Go west,

sail until you reach the cave

deep in the mountains, jagged and dark.

Charybdis herself desires this majesty,

was fashioned in honor,

in mockery.

Bring, also, a black wool sheep,

its blood sweet wine, libation

for the dead.

Spill its life over honey and barley,

and the desperate

shall let you pass.

Follow the river.

Pay no attention to what floats in the water,

tickets and trinkets, tests

failed in life above, forgotten

lockets and toys, the detritus 

of unfulfilled dreams.

The shades will reach out to you, and you’ll wish

to help them.

Don’t.

Do not stop until you reach the humble ferry

that sits, patiently, at the bank.

Give the ferryman a coin from beneath your tongue.

He has done this dance many times before.

The path leads to the Gates,

wrought iron, silver, intricate and cold.

Cerberus’s three heads will growl as you approach;

play with him.

He’s lonely.

Follow the poplars to the obsidian palace.

There you will meet the Queen,

wreathed in flowers, sweet, soft,

but do not be fooled,

for her thorns are sharp, and her scythe

sharper.

You may meet her husband, brooding and dark,

his throne bones

and blood silks

and velvet.

A helm of shadows and a cloak of gold

and eyes

that betray the softness of his heart.

Tell them your tale, what you wrought, what you seek,

and the Queen may take pity,

or the King may agree.

Be honest and kind and you’ll find what you wish,

Almost free, you may think.

But not quite.

Now return how you came,

through the fields and flames,

past the poplars and punishment pens and the bottomless pit,

boulders and Furies and low hanging fruit.

They’re not yours to save, but remember their pain.

Pass through the Gates where Cerberus waits,

give the boatman your second coin

(he will ask questions now, curious,

but keep your silence;

he asks not for himself),

climb through the mountain to the mouth of the cave,

and the sunrise will kiss your skin.

Do not get lost in the shadows and caves

and the shades, remember your gifts

and your face

and your name,

have faith in your quest and your love and above all,

do not look back.