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Arianna Feb 27
Granddaughter of the Sun
Scheming with the Moon,
For the lots of Love are cast and thou art betrayed!

Priestess, sorceress, mother —
Garlands of hemlock mark the woman well-tried
Where neither mortal court nor chorus
Can judge the ire of transgressed divinity.

Shame turns to laurel wreaths
In the wake of your wrath:
Resolute, collecting debts of pride
And honor, in blood oaths for justice.

          Your house falls, defiled by impiety,
          But your name shall suffer no infamy,
          And the sins of the father shall not shadow your progeny.
          Savage Phoenix, you will rise the Terrible Victress from devastation,
          The redemption of your ignominy a warning for all time.
She don't play, though... D-:

Inspired by Euripides' tragedy "Medea".
Cynthia Jan 18
Brittle and Bound,
The pain never dies,
Reiterate, reborn,
A sight for old eyes.

A cliff, an edge,
When will it all end?
Halving halves,
The pain never lends.
This is what happens when I spend too much time on Ted ed -- Really good stories out there.
Amelia Dec 2018
I love you like Zeus loves his cow-eyed wife
As Cronos, scared and jealous, loved his young
Like Agamemnon cherished afterlife
And Creon prized his niece’s nimble tongue

My love is like an ocean full of sharks
Where mortals fly too high upon wax wings
My love is Oedipus kept in the dark
The Minotaur to Theseus’ string

I see you with Tiresias’ eyes
A play with no deus ex machina
Hephaestus’ **** to wise Athena’s thigh
My heart as blessed as mother Hecuba

Though from your mythic love I’m left irate
I cannot use a word so strong as ‘hate’
Arianna Nov 2018
Lyre keening,
Alas Fate has spoken:
Insatiable, prevailing over all.
Two hours long, but so worthwhile:
galio Mar 2016
the sailors called the sirens beautiful
they wept, tearing out their hair
and tossed it into the ocean
turning it into seaweeds.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
who then hid themselves in caves, till they passed
their skin growing pale and lifeless
till feathers emerged from their hands.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
who decided to mutilate their legs
and scar their feet
so they would no longer be human.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
and the creatures wailed as loud as they could,
screeching noises, ringing
but sounded only like bells to men.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
but they didn't see beauty or sin
walking vessels
an empty name
and a prize to win.
harpies are described as repulsive half-bird half-human creatures that represented evil. however in early greek mythology, hesiod described them as beautiful winged maidens.
bree May 2018
He touched her richly
like king Midas.
Made her feel like
a queen dripping in gold.  

He made her believe
that she was his goddess.
Until her heart was
in his control.

He tossed her aside
after taking her all.
An unkind lover,
who damaged her soul.

He smiled at her sweetly,
as he took and he stole.
a golden king,
with a black heart of coal.

She cried, and she wept,
for this snake on a throne,
Now like Medusa,
her heart is of stone.
I Anonymous May 2018
i hear my love,
faint to judge.

i hear the young man’s heart through my ears
it is me.
and his mouth is pouring but i hear hers
it wrenches me
i am bitter
i lose my breath.

my death,
the puzzle of puzzles,
which we call being.
part of my blackout poetry exercise. inspired by the tale of hyacinth and apollo
I Anonymous May 2018
To be in any form, what is that?
Mine is no callous shell,
I merely am a new identity.
Flames and ether
My flesh and blood

They with no consideration enjoy to worry me
They all come to assist me
I am carried up by traitors
And the greatest traitor,
I myself
Carried me there.
we did blackout poetry in my poetry class and this came out of a walt whitman excerpt
SoVi May 2018
Like a flower that blooms only in night
Like a small child with cascading tears from their eyes
I always wondered if it will be alright
If I tried to use my smile to hide sorrow

A small shower bathes the flowers in dew
And the smell of earth lulls me to you
Closing my eyes against the harshness of light
All I see are impressions  against my lids

Hoping to feel the summer breeze pass by
But all I felt were caresses of goodbye
Try as I might I never succeed and I cried
But someone heard my futile pleas
And that is how you came to me

You held my hand and lead me to wonders
A blush adorned my cheeks as you whispered my name
I wished to only adorned your head with buds
But I **** them with a single touch
Yet you still held my hands in yours

© Sofia Villagrana 2018
carminayasmin Apr 2018
nurtured in the arms of another's.
birthed in homes inside their minds,
and told to stay low
told we have wings -
not told to use them.
because they might fail us.

our dreams might fail us.

so our sight blocked, to only the
array of sunset.
we sleep through sunrise
- at least they do.

        but see we,
we await, we wait until the
sun breaks way,
swallow the waves
eat another into oblivion.
whisked together as the sun turns to us
when she tires from her previous scene
she livens at us.

            do not anticipate until she bares full.
do not hesitate until she kisses your iris to black.
fly out to her
and see if wings dissolve like we were told they would.
see if you are dreaming
discover if you are awake.

feel how close to death you are
taste it, but swallow your presence.
when she begins to melt you.
remember that they told you that burns will ****.
who told you the sun will ****** our home, when her end comes.

fear not. fear is your friend.
the sun  knows she can impale you so
deep with radiance.
but do not fear,

because last night was when you dreamt of the sun -
and now is when she killed you.
because you were too near.

to the dream.
to follow them will thrill.
and **** once you love them
but what won't ****.

so visit the sun if you dream of her
let your dreams burn you.
end you
because at least you tasted them.
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