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dilemma Jan 9
i was beautiful
once upon a time
but don't mistake this for a fairy tale
this is more of a cautionary tale
more of a beware
of the glory from which you will fall
beware of the day on which you will lose it all
they used to call my name on the street
f**k the beauty of the stars and the sea
they mistook me for Aphrodite herself
my parent's pride and joy
a china doll living on a glass shelf
oh how the drop shattered me
and Athena, with her all-knowing glory
could not see that i resisted
that i did not choose to be enlisted in this odd torture
they couldn't hear my cries from within the temple
how careful i was locking up for the day
they couldn't hear my finger nails
scratching against the metal
and the last thing i remembered
was him dragging me out to the balcony
and seeing stars

a while has past
still the pain lasts
from an event that happened
so long ago
but oh
look at the stars
how they brighten the sky
blinking their lovely signals to me
never ending symphony of light
and the waves
they slip from the rocks
scrambling for a grip
how i wish i could walk upon them
across the lapping sea
to my lovely home
does it still await me?
among the fluffy green hills
and the faded blue sky
candles in windows
flickering late into the night
but i cannot go back
the warm yellow lights do not welcome me
and therefore i will not cross the sea
to go and see my beloved family
do they still wonder what has become of me?
these are the questions i ask the moon
she simply stares back at me
unmoving and unyielding
queen of mystery
oh light divine
tell me, will I stay here until the end of time
left alone to whine my insecurities
to moonshine
allowing my years
to wax and wane with hers
until i am just another
amongst the stars?

the scars do not fade
with each dying day
i come awake
and watch the sun fade
along the the edge of the sea
whispering her goodbyes to me
it's quite lonely on this island
my days are repetitive
fractured like shards of diamond
that blink at me from the cool deep sky
i sleep through the day
only do i rise at night
so i may wander this island peacefully
(without any sailors spotting me)
and babble to the graceful lady in the sky
she moves so precisely across the sky
lighting each star aflame as she dances along with the lights
through the vast, vast sky
tonight is no different than the others
i pace along the rocks
staring out at the great expanse of deep blue
and that is when i spot him
at first he is just a speck
a dot on the horizon
i honestly thought he was a star at first
falling from the sky
perhaps a gift from Artemis?
but alas no stars fall for me
only an angry boy zipping across the surface of the sea
(how i envy him
for all of my time here
i have wished i could walk on water)
bearing a grotesque sword and shield
he nears my island
and suddenly i understand
why(?)

he lands
a look of pure hatred
sprawling across his face
i do not understand
what have i done?
he attempts to
gather his bearings
fails, and charges
screaming at me of
his mother and
his home and still
i do not understand
he is crying as he
runs across the rocks
towards me and
now the world is
screaming with him
the moon and stars and sea
to whom i had pledged my
loyalty to long ago
run alongside him in
silver white streaks
bullets manifested
from his anger
anger that
i do not understand
and i have no time to fight
no time to move
no time to say goodbye
to my stars
he is upon me

in the seconds before death
there is much to think about
but all i can think of is beauty
they loved me because i was beautiful
but what is more valuable than beauty?
wits, they argue
pride or dignity
and once upon a time i might've agreed
but now i see with unclouded vision
what i should've before
the greatest characteristics have no more
value than a pretty face
and mine has gone to waste
because of the reckless pace at which
i took the world
you see i was vain
practically begging for karma to rain
down upon me
balance the scale with which i had counted
the many luxuries i had
but never thought to share
and only now
seconds before the end
i think to care for this
but a few seconds
can last for as long as you wish
so i look up at the sky
to my stars
and



how sweet does air taste
split with the spilling scent of life
Amelia Sapp Dec 2019
aphrodite gifted me her beauty
but i call upon her to let known,
the smoke that fills my lungs
and the fire that lies in your wake

ares gifted me her ruthlessness
but i call upon her to let known,
the war you started within me
and how untamed i became

athena gifted me her wisdom
but i call upon her to let known,
the thoughts i still have of you
and how skilled you are at being persistent

eleos gifted me her compassion
but i call upon her to let known,
how i still feel pity for myself
and how i wish to mercy you for your misdeeds

these women do not live within me to make me
a weaker version of myself
they live within me
to make me strong
in your absence
Ackerrman Aug 2019
I am anxious to look or to caress
A beautiful, blooming, illustrious
*****. Vibrant; sumptuous red flower,
I would steal your time if just for an hour.
I swing between clovers, petals shelter
Forever. Woodlands help her. Athena:
Towering stature- plethora- no measure.
Tiny spots, flicking hair, untamed treasure.
Beneath inconsequential ethereal
Is something smaller, a single blue thrill-
Charging through empty halls at solid walls.
But the Devil smiles when an Angel falls.
This was something I wrote for a woman. I never gave it to her. Timing was always wrong.
Athena Feb 2019
Olive branches lay nestled at the foot of her alter
Give your respects
to the wise mother
Hold her in careful regard
but keep in mind
that an intellectual challenge
might not be so unwelcome
Jade Jun 2018
The eye of the universe

bats its lashes at a

a single sliver of splintered light

blinking boastfully in the opaqueness–

a crescent m☽☽n is birthed,

carved by the Huntswoman’s

      ➳silver tipped arrows➳

on the night I–

a demi-goddess-

am born.



And this Hunstwomen,

my heavenly mother,

my celestial nurturer,

Artemis

plants antlers atop my

hairless skull in the hopes that I,

her daughter,

will grow wild

as the deer Her Greatness

has vowed to protect;

as the cypress whose limbs

swell with greenery;

as the moon who must wax

as surely as it must wane;

as Artemis herself,

whom they call

“Lady of Wild Things.”



And I too

am a Wild Thing,

for I am a women

of extremity.



How can I not be,

when I come from a long line

of deities,

whose veins palpitate

with the very atoms of chaos?



How else am to explain the fire

the seethes inside of my soul?

A fire kindled by Zeus,

the Lord of the Sky,

the God of all Gods.



Lightning bolts play hopscotch

across my collarbone,

crack against my ribcage

like Poprocks crack against tongue.



Some days,

these flames enable

the crusade of my passions,

accelerating me onwards,

like the wheels of

pegasus drawn chariot.



But there is such as thing

as being too passionate,

for with great passion comes

great emotion,

and with great emotion comes

the capacity for great heartbreak.



I love with the catastrophic magnitude

of a category five hurricane;

it ’s no wonder any other mortal man

is capable of reciprocating my musings,

for there is no emulating this storm,

there is no matching the desires

of Aphrodite’s offspring.





And you should see my heart

when it’s broken–

the way it snaps so eloquently

like the neck of a swan,

how it metamorphosizes,

scorching itself

to a point of  αγνώριστος

(unrecognizable)

blackness.



In the pit of my

cracked palms,

I hold the charred

f

                     r

         a

                         g

m

              e

n

                  t

s

of my heart–

kaleidoscopic shards

jagged enough to draw blood.



When the palpitating ache

in my chest proves to be unbearable,

I sprint to the riverside,

well aware that it is the closest

I will be able to get to the ocean

on such short notice.



I take off my socks and

my worn down Doc Martens

and wade into the water.

Entranced by its

refreshingly cruel coldness,

I baptize myself in its

precarious currents and beg

Poisedon to extinguish the fire in me.



He douses me in his spirit

in an attempt to console the embers

that lick at my heels.

But this attempt proves

to be unsuccessful;

for there is no way of curing

the daughter of Olympus.



Fire and water merge,

imposing on to my being

a molten existence.



I    l~i~q~u~e~f~y.



Tendrils of lava crawl

up my oesophagus,

sear the impression

of a laurel atop my head,

burn so violently,

they turn purple.



“Dear Gods,”

I plead

“Take away this body,

this mind,

this soul–”



“Child,”

a lyrical voice

echoes back to me.

“You must not forsake yourself

like this, ”

she declares.

“The mark of the Parthenon,

of I,

your third mother,

Athena

dwells among your fingertips–

There is

p

o

e

t

r

y

in your bones,

an emblem of my wisdom,

of Apollo’s bestowal of enlightenment.



And so you,

my demi-goddess,

must carry on the legacy

of your ancestors through

your wildness

your extremity

your chaos–

your poetry.



For you were made

in the image of the Gods.”
Niobe Feb 2018
SOS
My brother is a drama queen with no morals.
He cheats on his wife with everything with a pulse.
So many of my nephews are the result of my brother’s lust,
I would be surprised he is still married
If I did not know his wife as well as I do.
His wife is over possessive, and angry,
However she is righteous and fair.
Forgiven on that front.
However she is also our sister
And if I had any right to judge, I might.

My other brother has no cares.
He has had an ongoing competition
With our niece for ages,
Since the spring and the olive tree.
My nephew enjoys arsonry and war
And I wonder if he is a sadist sometimes.
He is my other niece’s side piece, essentially,
Whom is married to yet another nephew.
Our history is riddled with ******,
And I wonder if we are really all powerful gods
Or just afflicted by advantageous birth defects.

I am the most normal of us all
And I spend my time with dead people.

We need help.
Send your best therapist.
Maybe send multiple,
The first few might meet an untimely end.
Sincerely, Hades.
Rose L Jan 2018
I feel the old gods in me breathe.
Subtle hands, contracting intercostals,
feminine fingers that scream and wail when I let men with ill intent come near me -
feminine fingers that announce themselves as Athena, Diana.
Do you have a legacy?
I feel Nefertiti, Osiris, Iris, clench their fists in my gut when I cry in my sleep and wake up angry -
Hecate spits and twitches her paws when my undulating heart lacks the oil that flourished during her reign.
Wings over me, the contorted body of Nike. Protective but irate.
A shout, and a burst blood vessel in the corner of my eye -
by the aging moon this tumult of Dido's wild ichor inside me grows...
Have you ever used your voice?
Athena's words in my head telling me to scream -
Roar of the old gods telling me to run -
Their tongues in the sand and in the grass blades.
Child of flesh and hard times.
An unknown voice from the mouth of my mother commands me - 'take firm grasp of the magic within you'
Perhaps I am too afraid to reply.
Every maiden should severe their wrist
to taste the blood of supremacy that obscure
by the darkened green of connecting veins
like a circled labyrinth that blended with lies—
and hiding the things that they should know.

The reason why they are still living with fear;
fear of touching the grayish blade of the sword
fear of seeing Hades or the gloomy underworld
fear of wearing metallic suit from head to toe
fear of showing braveness and fight like a girl.

Are they afraid to die and meet the hell?
the hell— what's the comparison and contrast
of their living world from the underworld?

I, Athene, the Goddess of Intelligence
can able to answer it with my ruthless words;
nothing—there's no difference between the two
due of their world that filled with darkness too.

So you, mortal, listen to the words of wisdom
it's not bad to taste the red liquid of the art
in your personify that pumped by your heart
telling you to craft it into phrases in your skin
so that you'll know the importance of the pain.

Stand up, use your voice and rule your city
girls are not just girls, would you believe me?
if you don't trust me then learn how I fight
for a resplendent city that named after me
feminism is not a bad thing, young lady—
it's your voice to have freedom and equality.

I''ll end this message with a simple question
would you mind to stick with my footmark
or you'll just go and follow the wrong path?
Mythology inspired! My fourth poem <3 Hope you'll like it yay
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