once you take that first step down the path
the decision has been set upon and you cannot go back

now it is up to trust, that invisible demon or angel in waiting
right or wrong the pendulum will swing in either direction

time a curse or a blessing guided by a compass
beholden to no one it has its own destiny

for love once betrayed is a vengeful enemy
setting off a cornucopia of storms of anger

unleashing the torments only goddesses can bestow
their ire ****** forth like a thunderous lighting strike

wishing to smite those that have broken her heart
there is no hiding from the maelstrom your betrayal has unleashed

bringing embarrassment to those that inhabit castles
a dire misjudgment in a moment of voluptuous temptation

is there now regret to having succumbed to human wontedness
it would appear so, hands now tied striding towards the inevitable

step by step moving closer to the sentence handed down
the walled fortress now a corral with no escape

and then I am there, she and a legion of men in waiting
a gilded sword sharp as any in the kingdom prepared

her golden hair blowing in the wind, delicate features revealed
utter beauty astonishing in the backdrop of a scorching sun

how could I have traded this for a night of passion with another
now I am pushed down to kneel before her my heart racing wildly

she is judge and jury and as she draws back the sword
I wonder if there is one morsel of sympathy in her repertoire

so I close my eyes and ponder why has my lust brought me here
all the whilst listening for the whoosh that will end my days or not

Andreas Simic©

the myths of birth and rebirth
are as old as humankind

scratched onto cave walls,
tablets of stone or clay,
scrolls of papyrus or  parchment,
for hundreds of years on paper,
and nowadays typed onto backlit screens
   that are recycled faster
   than old hieroglyphs were understood

in our time
when refugees are tens of millions
on our globe

let us remember that these myths
have celebrated for millenia
    not battles, war, or death
but the survival of the human race    
the joy we feel when new life has arrived
   often against all odds
the hope that emanates from godesses
    or mother saints of yore
    who symbolize fertility,
    have brought forth saviors and new tribes

these are what has propelled us to our current state

and we do well to not forget that our fate
does not depend on people slain
but on how we can save the joy of life
and celebrate all humankind again

Oh goddess
Let me kneel before thee
in supplication
Arms outstretched
the temple's forbidden smoke
burning in the brazier
is your perfume
How may I best worship thee?

In the summer we shall
paint your alabaster idol
Her lids be the color of bruised fruit
She is nameless in our tongue
but the people called the Greeks
name her Aphrodite

The farmers pray to you for wet summers
the masters beg you let them cling
the dregs plead for full bellies
They do not know you
They do not commune with you
in your temple
and yet they have the audacity to lament
when you turn your face from them

What brings the rain and corn
Is sacrifice and devotion
it is the doorway you enter through
But even that is meaningless
for your beauty is a mask
and you are not your face
or your idol
behind it
is your divine truth, secrets lie there
gods demand beauty in spirit
so if they be hideous to mortal sight
they will still be beautiful
to Aphrodite

So bring the oil
cloying to pillars our garlands
touch our forehead to the cold stone
and lift our spirits
to meet your painted own