A son of Phylacus, (or alternately, Thauma-cus), and husband of Methone, by whom he sired Philoctetes.
His main claim to fame is his service to Heracles, (or Hercules). Heracles found himself in a bad way, being poisoned by Centaur blood. He requested his men light the pyre upon which he was about to cast himself to put an end to his suffering. His loyal fellows refused, having no heart to set their leader on fire. This is a really endearing quality to have in followers. I mean, what would happen if they misunderstood orders, and oops, there ya go, the general goes up in flames. Darned poor morale builder for the officer corps, I'd say. There were also paparazzi hiding in the bushes nearby, ready to get the money shot of the pyre lighter. Who wants that on their resume?
Anyways, Poeas, ever willing to lend a helping hand, accepted Heracle's request, sets the pyre ablaze, and in turn was rewarded by the hero, receiving his bow and accompanying poisoned arrows. The sad occasion went down as the first time the phrase was uttered "Hey buddy, got a match?"