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fray narte Dec 2020
I remember the days when
a broken glass was just a broken glass,
a poem was just a poem,
a wrist was just a wrist  —
and not a headstone for
sunlights, melting;
flowers, wilting;
mirrors, breaking.

Now, it shows half summer smiles,
half dead and sunken cheeks —
an oddity that is Persephone, unhinged
and descending into darkness
and maybe one day,
I'll feel the haunted murmurs beneath my feet
and not in my head —
not in the poems
I cannot write again,
Now, the mirror shows
my aching — it shows my waiting
for death to show up at the doorstep
as though it was an estranged husband
finally coming home.

Slip your grief into Demeter's hands —
lithe. Graceful, and drenched in sunlight.

I remember back when this was an abduction
and not a quiet, slow dance with death.

Slip your sighs, carefully now,
into Demeter's forsaken hands —

I remember how breaths
ended in mine.

// "Maybe Persephone chased her death."
I wasn't taken, Mama.
I went willingly, pomegranate
juice staining my lips ******.

I am not helpless, Mama.
I am darkness, power, a Queen.
You gave me flowers and he gave me
his everlasting worship.

I am his queen, Mama, his goddess.
He says that I am the one that
brought him to his knees, Mama,
and he is right. I am a terrible
beauty, and oh, I put him on
his hands and knees in worship.

Do not come looking for me, Mama,
because your innocent flower is
nowhere to be found. All that is
left is blood and bone and
pomegranate juice staining my
hands and mouth and setting me free.
Another one that I've had in my notebook that I never got around to posting.
Mark Parker Sep 2020
Woe be to the lady of seasons!
Persephone and Demeter argue.
As neither can forgive dear family,
we are lost! We are sunk! Polar icecaps
melt to the tension of their bickering.

Poseidon’s domain increases ever more!
His power does drive our beaches and shores
higher! Higher! Higher ever more!
I’ve lived my life in a fancy with the Greek gods. Just recently, they erupt when I write.
Julia Oct 2018
i want to grow like flowers towards the sun
paint me in the image of a
(daisy/water-lily/hyacinth/poppy)
so I may always bask in light,
kissed by sacred bees
I might be vain but I long to be beautiful and without a care in the world.

the sun-warmed dirt would be a lovely place to plant my tired feet
and rest for a spell, nothing more and nothing less,
to be a blessed child of gaia,
protected by demeter
dmperez Oct 2018
white world in wild winds
the one fair sun repelling
when Persephone rose

              #dperez
Published in Four Hundred and Two Snails, HSA's member anthology 2018. All rights reserved.
Brandon Conway Aug 2018
You don’t walk but slither
You don’t talk but hiss
Your tongue only blithers
Coiled in bed with a monster so venomous
Your a real man eater
I, another mouse in the field
Running in the harvest of Demeter
While you strike, going for the ****
RyanMJenkins Jul 2018
I'm all too used to the touch of your absence.  Your mother's wrath in that time can be a death sentence so tragic.  But when you come back, Demeter returns to her senses expressing light magic.   Life springs through the darkness, and flowers race to see who can reach the farthest.  Lovers emerge to nurture their gardens, and soak in sun to thaw out the hearts that hardened.  Birds sing songs highlighting your arrival.  Trees breathe easy seeing what their last set of leaves died for..
Yet when you retreat, mother again takes away her warmth.  The high-flyers no longer soar, and some paths feel too bitter to explore.  Bone-chill zones, a frozen reality stream.  I can't blame anyone for what's a part of me, as we fall into winter's annual dream.
Queen of the Underworld, I appreciate your harmony.  Thank you for teaching me to see the depths of my own duality.  Still, I can't help but wonder how existence would be had you not eaten those pomegranate seeds.  In the darkness of winter I want to curse Hades for his greedy need to leach on life through trickery.  Though to curse him I'd be cursing myself and ive had it with the blasphemy.  Besides I too know what it's like to rely on the dead as your only company.  I ride ebbs and flows of loss and hope, but I know your presence promotes healing.  So again I'll remain as the seasons change, taking layers and peeling.  I've found in light and dark we can succeed in setting our bound spirits free.  Communicator of both worlds, I want to Thank and honor you, Persephone~
Brandon Conway Jun 2018
Fuzzy orb so small and sweet
      Plump succubus plucked by hand
      Orange pink and yellow treat
      To fulfill a hungers toothsome demand  
                          
Demeter's gift, O' how ripe
      Put the flesh between my teeth
      Ears delighted with phoebe's pipe
      Lounged lazily listening in edens wreath

Juice streaming down my face
       Junes comfort, worth more than gold
       Sleep coming to make its dreamy embrace
       Hammock sway, as I slowly cross the threshold
Nothing like laying in the hammock, book in hand with a sweet treat, letting mothers poets drift you off to a slumber.
Stars gleam -night/snakes run their races,
Rain always seems/to find our faces,
Drowning deep abyss/those dark and evil places,
Wanna' die, release/trapped time, a Beast,
....come end this stasis,
....come end this stasis,

I wanna' die,
Transpose,
I wanna' die,
Cosmos!


We have eyes/still won’t see it,
Hearing without hearing, ears won’t believe it,
Argo, course, pivot/never touch, feel, regret,
Hunger boils feel/pain, life, hurts, reveal;

I wanna' die,
Transpose,
I wanna die,
Cosmos!


I wanna' dine at the table of Kro-nos!

Grinded, gnashed, sliced, eaten/devoured as a Cretan,
Die, soul to fly/meet in the sky,

I wanna' die in the cosmos,

I wanna die,
Transpose,
I wanna die,
Cosmos!


Trapped mill machine/they eat, they gleam,
Meet for the feast/Almighty beast, Almighty Kronos!

I wanna dine,
It a crime?
Swallowed by time,
In the cosmos,
I wanna die,
I wanna dine,


I wanna dine cosmos/retch my body, I transpose,

I wanna dine at the table of Kro-nos!

*I wanna die,
Transpose,
I wanna die,
Cosmos!
Leo Oct 2016
we walk with faces to the sky
the goddesses on earth
our words from a breathless heartsigh
we appear with old grecian beauty
and not such modern masks
it comes in hand with our ancient virtues
true to our everlasting tasks

hera; dark curls and flaming passion
striking down all who cross her
thin and wary is she

artemis; earthy flesh and midnight coils
gentle to the wild and bow-weilding
athletic and kind is she

demeter; flaxen tresses and tenderness
protecting her wards
mothering and calm is she

athena; thick legs and honey hair
raising blood-soaked war flags
wise and fearless am i
my small company fits perfectly to four goddesses
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