Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Perfect creature
shining sky eyes
of fulfilling life a teacher
of the sweetest smiles
that taste like cherry

Forever held in that moment
like a Goddess
with my feelings growing
even more for every promise

and your arms closed around me
as you teach me how to dance
and for your beauty has no end
i bow down to your every glance

sand flows down from your head
in curls and sways that pool on your bed
where we laid in friendship as we promised 'cause my heart was on fire but you didn't notice

your smooth ivory fingers
would comb through my hair
and your touch still lingers
but to reciprocate i didn't dare

I was fine with just your eyes
though I shied from them all the time,
your love afterall couldn't possibly be mine
all my time wasn't worth a dime

And I miss your warmth and tears
I miss your smile and your fears
And now I think if we'de been here
we would have stayed a hundred years
Is it pride month yet?
lurking behind
that nervous but sensual laugh
hides an exotic goddess
pretending to be
a die-hard feminist

was it the regimen of a demanding mother?
was is it the separation from your misunderstood motherland?
is it the distance from your chosen lover?
or simply sadness from an unrequited love?

toss away the jin guo
and let the river flow.....
for this world to see
the true guan yin
rising within you

© 2021
guan yin : goddess of  love and compassion
jin guo:a hair pin worn  by. women
Shadow 4d
A beautiful smile
Radiates the energy of the sun
Green eyes fueling the source
With the shape of a goddess
Oblivious to his truth
And unwanting of his intentions
What is to be done
When there is no control of the situation
M R White Apr 14
What do you hear of me?
What rumors slip from others’ lips?
They speak of me, evil mistress, eyes that pull in, and a body that gets caught in your windpipe.
You are unable to swallow me. You chew on me and hastily spit me out. You choke on me.  
The wit I possess is too quick for your bruteness. You dismiss my thoughts.
I am just a woman, nothing less, and nothing more.
Bore to serve you and bear your seed.
What do you hear of me? What slips from others’ lips?
Am I a murderous harlot? A bitter witch with nothing better to do.
Do serpents sit atop my brow, shall I turn you to stone?
Am I Charybdis, shall I swallow you whole?
They are unable to chop me up into bit sized pieces. For some reason, they do not love me as a collective.
What do you hear regarding the treatment of me?
You only hear yourselves, deafening my point of view.
I hear I have scorned every one of you. Do you hear of who scorned me?
Have you ever questioned what may have made me this way?
What makes a mistress so vile?
The mistreatment of a loving deity can mangle many.
I was hanged on a hook, a piece of meat left to rot.
I was once pure and heavenly.
I will ask once more,
What have you heard of me?
What tales have slipped from others’ lips?
Have you stopped to think what created me to be so evil?
I am the evil mistress. I will chew you up and I will eagerly swallow you in all your whole.
I know my motive. What is yours?

These are translations of ancient Greek poems about Eros. Eros was the Greek counterpart of the Roman god Cupid. While today we tend to think of Cupid as an angelic cherub shooting arrows and making people fall in love, the ancient Greek and Roman poets often portrayed Cupid/Eros as a troublemaker who was driving them mad with uncontrollable desires.

Sappho, fragment 42
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eros harrows my heart:
wilds winds whipping desolate mountains,
uprooting oaks.

Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eros, the limb-shatterer,
rattles me,
an irresistible

Sappho, fragment 54
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

descends from heaven,
discarding his imperial purple mantle.

Sappho, fragment 22
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

That enticing girl's clinging dresses
leave me trembling, overcome by happiness,
as once, when I saw the Goddess in my prayers
eclipsing Cyprus.

Sappho, fragment 102
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Mother, how can I weave,
so overwhelmed by love?

Sappho, fragment 10
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I lust!
I crave!
Take me!

Around the same time Sappho was writing in ******, in nearby Greece, circa 564 B.C., we have another poem about the power of Eros:

Ibykos Fragment 286
translation by Michael R. Burch

Come spring, the grand
apple trees stand
watered by a gushing river
where the maidens’ uncut flowers shiver
and the blossoming grape vine swells
in the gathering shadows.

for me
Eros never rests
but like a Thracian tempest
ablaze with lightning
emanates from Aphrodite;
the results are frightening―
violently jolting me from my soles
to my soul.

I hate Eros! Why does that gargantuan God dart my heart, rather than wild beasts? What can a God think to gain by inflaming a man? What trophies can he hope to win with my head?
―Alcaeus of Messene, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Have mercy, dear Phoebus, drawer of the bow, for were you not also wounded by love’s streaking arrows?
―Claudianus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

In Greek mythology, Cupid shoots Phoebus Apollo to make him fall in love with Daphne, then shoots Daphne with an arrow that prevents her from falling in love with her suitor.

Matchmaker Love, if you can’t set a couple equally aflame, why not ***** out your torch?
―Rufinus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I have armed myself with wisdom against Love;
he cannot defeat me in single combat.
I, a mere mortal, have withstood a God!
But if he enlists the aid of Bacchus,
what odds do I have against the two of them?
―Rufinus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Love, if you aim your arrows at both of us impartially, you’re a God, but if you favor one over the other, you’re the Devil!
―Rufinus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Either put an end to lust, Eros, or else insist on reciprocity: abolish desire or heighten it.
―Lucilius or Polemo of Pontus, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Steady your bow, Cypris, and at your leisure select a likelier target ... for I am too full of arrows to take another wound.
―Archias, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Cypris was another name for Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. Here the poet may be suggesting, “Like mother, like son.”

Little Love, lay my heart waste;
empty your quiver into me;
leave not an arrow unshot!
Slay me with your cruel shafts,
but when you’d shoot someone else,
you’ll find yourself out of ammo!
―Archias, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You say I should flee from Love, but it’s hopeless!
How can a man on foot escape from a winged creature with unerring accuracy?
―Archias, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Many centuries later, poets would still be complaining about the overpoweringness of ****** desire, and/or the unfairness of unrequited love, by which they often meant not getting laid!

by Charles d’Orleans
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Young lovers,
greeting the spring
fling themselves downhill,
making cobblestones ring
with their wild leaps and arcs,
like ecstatic sparks
drawn from coal.

What is their brazen goal?

They grab at whatever passes,
so we can only hazard guesses.
But they rear like prancing steeds
raked by brilliant spurs of need,
Young lovers.

Fast-forwarding again, we find the great Scottish poet William Dunbar, who was born around 1460:

Sweet Rose of Virtue
by William Dunbar
translation by Michael R. Burch

Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness,
delightful lily of youthful wantonness,
richest in bounty and in beauty clear
and in every virtue that is held most dear,
except only that you are merciless.

Into your garden, today, I followed you;
there I saw flowers of freshest hue,
both white and red, delightful to see,
and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently,
yet everywhere, no odor but rue.

I fear that March with his last arctic blast
has slain my fair rose of pallid and gentle cast,
whose piteous death does my heart such pain
that, if I could, I would compose her roots again,
so comforting her bowering leaves have been.

Keywords/Tags: Eros, Cupid, Phoebus Apollo, Cypris, Aphrodite, love, blind love, cute love, love god, love goddess, bow, arrow, arrows, desire, passion, lust, heart
I've got the power to create
The hips and thighs
Perfectly voluptuous

I've got the power to birth
I've got the power to make life
I've got the power to make breath

Don't tell me that I am powerless
Don't tell me to do what you said
You answer to me

I am The Goddess
you answer to me
Next page