For Max

O cruel, drunken soul, darling tigress,
Come to my heart, you lethargic beast!
I long for my trembling hands to caress
Your thick and glossy fleece.

In your petticoats filled with your scent
To bury my poor, aching head,
Inhaling your flowery fragrance;
The sweetness of love now dead.

I wish to sleep, to dream perchance
As sweetly as death’s embrace,
Without remorse, my tongue will dance
On your coppery body and face.

To bury my sobbing for hours
Nothing equals your bed’s abyss,
On your lips lies oblivion’s power
And Lethe flows in your kiss.

Like one resigned to meet his end,
I’ll face my fate delighted;
Docile martyr, innocent condemned,
Whose fervor with pain is ignited.

I shall suck, to drown my malice,  
Nepenthe and hemlock blessed;
Placing my lips upon the chalice
Of your pointed, heartless breast.

s Veazie 6d

Dear Alectis,
You are
an ancient feminist
an empowered woman trapped in a world of patriarchy.

From the beginning you were dismissed, resigned to be chattel.
You were ordered, pushed, directed by the males around you to latch on.
Ensnare him in a your feminine web.
You're not strong enough alone.
You're just a woman.
Why should you-
Stop.

You find it all in Him:
Shock, love, strength
you are finally balanced, equal.
You are happy.
But Fate holds a bed of snakes for the forgetful and He is stolen from you.
Apollo cannot help you now, and you see only one option.

Once again a primal privilege arises,
But you must win, you must succeed.
You sneak away, so desperate to see the world, be the change, be the solution for once, you sacrifice yourself-
Hades.
You are floating, falling, frightened-
Stop.

All you know is-
Someone carrying you away, rushing-
Stop.
You are handed back to Him- you are limp,
helpless.
You are more than that.
Damn Hercules.

You are the distressed princess, the fair maiden, and still the hero of your own story.

Eugène Delacroix, Hercules and Alectis
PJ Gonzalez Apr 16

who would have thought
that his smile
and soulful eyes
could bring Achilles
the mightiest of heroes
to his knees

certainly not Patroclus himself
for the sun does not know
that it shines so beautifully
it just does

dang.........I just re-read The Song of Achilles. It's safe to say that it's by far, my favorite book. My heart aches and I find myself crying every time.

I’m Medusa, yes Medusa
Not long life that was Methuselah
Vile violent visage I am the muse for
Gorgon legend is my future

I’m abused and an abuser
I am used and I’m a user
Magnet to so many suitors
Once a beauty now a bruiser

Myth: Just deserts for killer cougar
Truth: Raped then accused as a seducer
Athene was my disapprover
Sisterhood is just a rumour

Hair curled tight it can’t get smoother
Locks they’re snakes crawled from a sewer
Lovers now they’re getting fewer
Call me mad it’s only lunar

Perseus my persecutor
In slaying Titans he’d been tutored
He is blessed, I’m outmanoeuvred
My death births Pegasus the wing’d hoofer

Seem to have lost my sense of humour
Need more than a troubleshooter
Temperature has just got cooler
Turn to stone you’re such a loser

anna jones ©2017

I am not Atlas
I cannot bear
The weight
Of the skies
That I am
Under

Lani Foronda Apr 2

My dear Icarus,
Have you brought tales of gold for me?
You-- the master of self,
The one who held his own thread and shears.
Don't share of how hard you beat your wings
But how the air beat against your brow.
Don't echo your father's faded cries
But sing the songs of the Aegean sea--
Sing them only for me!

My sweet Icarus,
Is the world as grand as the travelers say?
Are crumbling maps and hand-spun tales nothing to compare?
I've read of Sicily, where your father rests his mourning head.
I've traced its rivers as they curved against my torn papyrus.
Sicily, the land of Aetna.
Oh, to watch the land shake at the beckoning of her call
(Oh, to fly free of these labyrinth walls)!

My darling Icarus,
Tell me-- is life better above the blanket of Grecian blue?
Is it better than what the Fates designed?
Is it better than what I hold today
(please, let it be more than today)?

My beloved Icarus,
Will you give me your wings--
The mingling of feather, wax, and dreams.
Will you give me your wings and
Your will to yearn higher and higher

So that I too can reach the city of gold.

May 24, 2016 + March 3, 2017

Collapse, bed
sound increasing.
Tired, so tired...
crash, roof.
Oak, -snapped.

Rain pouring
showers, showers
Python chest
ink pours
into heart.

Vines unfurl
flies, strange
flowers heart
sounds, nature.
Ocean nearby.

Storm again!
Scattered, clothes...
...breathe mourns.
Eyes trail.
Mountain/waters.

DESCENT

Cindered heart
pages, fear
Awake! Awaken!
Creature's breath.
Searing heat,

Open! Eyes!
is, -there
ancient tale
translated? See?
Apollo a serpent...

...and me.

A fountain,

rose

George Anthony Mar 21

with the weight of the world on my shoulders,
hands scrabbling at my back,
i wonder when i stopped being icarus
and took on the role of atlas
and if it was foolish of me to wear wings of wax
and expect them not to melt

i miss that flying freedom.
feeling on top of the world, soaring through a blue sky
with you, my apollo, a guiding light;
an enveloping warmth,
it felt like nothing could touch me
even on the coldest nights

i knew enough of science and mythology
to know i'd fall hard,
that candles drip and melt
and when they melt, your skin burns;
i knew that looking into the sun
would surely make me blind

it didn't feel like such a hazard at the time
i've never had 20:20 eyesight.
the blindest man is the one that refuses to see
and why see when i could feel?
throw caution to the wind, take flight...
i flew and i fell and i loved so i drowned

B Condon Mar 18

Through silky grass and waters blue
Do the joints click into
Shapes of knowing wing or bone
Stretching, enchanted
And nerve and vein hums, pulses
An ancient tune between
Breathless heaves
The trembles of heartbeats
For a simple reflex of a finger to lips

MP Martinez Mar 18

She wears the golden ray of sun on her dress
Her laugh so sweet any man can't resist
Flowers bloom on her every step
As she smile the world celebrates
Oh daughter of spring
You even melted Hades heart of solid ice
His monochrome kingdom burst into colorful hue
And because of that he won't let you go
Your disappearance payed a price
Now that you were gone
The world turned frozen and dry desert

Beloved daughter of Spring, Hailed queen of Underwold
Dedicated to one of my favorite greek goddess, Persephone. Worth a try
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