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Lyn-Purcell Aug 2020

Light strokes her cream thighs
Gift of foresight on her lips
Her truth disbelieved


BONUS HAIKU!
This one is in link with Clymenestra's story. [Link: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3980318/clytemnestra/]
Somewhat of another layer of tragedy in the story. Kassandra (or Cassandra) was a Trojan Princess who became the lover of Agamemnon. But before he brought her to his kingdom, before their subsequent deaths, she was a Priestess of Apollo.

Apollo was said to be so enamoured by her. In exchange for the gift of seeing the future, she promised him favours. In one variant, she broke her word after he granted her the gift (something he couldnt revoke to his chargin) and he cursed her further, no one would ever believe her prophecies. Another variant is that he gave her the power to tempt her into his bed and that didnt work, and he cursed her.

Either way, much like Clytemnestra, she too is a tragic figure. She had told Agamemnon repeatedly of the danger to come but he never believed her. And she too was resigned to her fate, she fully accepted it. But at least she was accepted in Elysian despite it all.

The first line does allude to Apollo and it's very much a euphemism.
The rest, highlights her power and tragedy to come.
Anyway, thank you all for growing followers, I'm forever humbled and grateful for the support🙏🌹💜
Here's the link for the growing collection:
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/132853/the-women-of-myth/
Be back tomorrow with another one!
Much love,
Lyn 💜
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2020

Prophecy foretold
When golden rain meets her womb,
a hero shall rise


New day, new haiku!
This one is for Danaë, the mother of Perseus, one of the greatest heroes of Greek Myth.

Long in short, her father, King Acrisius was visited the Oracle of Delphi due to not having any sons and wanted to know if it will change in the future. It was not to be as the Oracle prophecized that the King will die at the hands of his daughter's sons. Hoping to avoid this, he imprisisoned his beautiful daughter in a tower of brass [it was either that, a tower of bronze or chamber of bronze depending on the myth].

It was a prison of great fineries befitting her regal right, but a prison none the less. There were no windows or doors. Of course, Zeus saw her and desired her as she was a great beauty and through a tiny crack of the ceiling, became a shower of golden rain, impregnating her. When her father found out, she had already given birth to Perseus. And of course, he didnt believe the story behind his conception either. Furious by the child, and fearful of the prophecy [as well as stirring the god's wrath should he harm his own kin], he sealed his daughter and grandson in a wooden box and cast them into the turbulent sea. By Poseidon's hands, the chest eventually arrived safely to Seriphos, ruled by Polydectes. And the king's brother, Dictys, found them, took them in and raised him as his own. And well, the rest is history, I guess! ^-^
I've always liked Danaë and frankly, the story of her father can be condensed into a quote by Oogway, "One often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it." This quote can apply to other myths too so it's really apt. I played around with the haiku with this quote in mind!

Anyway, thank you all for growing followers, I'm forever humbled and grateful for the support🙏🌹💜
Here's the link for the growing collection:
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/132853/the-women-of-myth/
Be back tomorrow with another one!
Much love,
Lyn 💜
Jade May 2020
Atlantis shall rise again.

She will spear through the currents,
until the helms of her cityscapes
cleave the tides
that have entombed her.

In the beginning,
it hurts
as she guillotines
the barnacles
and bottom feeders
congealed upon her brow.

In the beginning,
she bleeds--

she bleeds--

but

she heals.

Shrugs the brine
from her rooftops
and hails over
the men and women
who sunk her Queendom
all those millennia ago.

As the moonlight
crescendos through
the stained glass,
timeworn prophecies
written in the jagged contours
of greek lettering
reveal themselves upon the pillars:

Atlantis shall rise again.

Ophelia's throne reclaimed
only by the one
who has treaded
The Great Deluge
and survived it

only by the one
who is fluent in
the language of drowning
but has not bowed
to the hurricanes

by the one
with hair like raven feathers
and dark eyes spun to gold
when they look into the sunset

by the one
who is named
after a gemstone,
the most precious
of them all--

Atlantis shall rise again

and

I shall rise with Her.
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

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Mobile Site: notapreciousgem.wixsite.com/purplemobile
Andrei Marin Apr 2020
There is a sign in the sky,
the winds are changing,
flags are set to fly,
people are raging.

Stars are falling down,
people receive visions,
everyone is fighting for the crown,
marching divisions.

And as the dust is rising,
among the cries of war,
there comes a lone traveler,
never seen before.

He speaks of the future,
of destruction and death,
he says this could be,
humanity's last breath.

His words are wise,
will no one heed, but,
the people are enraged,
they attack with speed,
yet the traveler is gone,
he is nowhere to be found,
but on his way to others,
of minds more sound.

In the meantime,
the wars go on,
brave warriors proven,
yet still none won,
the battle of futility,
of empty pride and shame,
hoping all along,
someone will remember their name.

Why are all people so proud?
Why are all so desperate to stand out from the crowd?

Is it because they're afraid of oblivion?
The traveler asks himself.
They seem to want to become another book on the shelf...

So they sign their name in fire, blood and steel,
forcing thousands of innocents to kneel,
thinking by this they will be remembered as great conquerors, chosen by destiny,
truly they are wanderers,
soon to be forgotten...
This is just a rhyming prophecy/ballad leftover from a story I'm writing.
Ylzm Apr 2020
Nations writhe in horror before them;
every face turns pale.
They charge like mighty men;
they scale the walls like men of war.
Each one marches in formation,
not swerving from the course.
They do not jostle one another;
each proceeds in his path.
They burst through the defenses,
never breaking ranks.
They storm the city;
they run along the wall;
they climb into houses,
entering through windows like thieves.
Joel 2:6-9
Matt Bernstein Mar 2020
The Lord whispers prophecies to one to hear.
"Heal thy neighbor" he commands of the sleepwalking dead

At the temple, a candle still flickers,
and a scholar works out what was said.

"But Lord, I am but a priest.
What miracles can I divine?"

The ***** idles in silence,
but the candle will burn through the night.
Michael R Burch Feb 2020
Listen to me now and heed my voice;
I am a madman, alone, screaming in the wilderness,
but listen now.

Listen to me now, and if I say
that black is black, and white is white, and in between lies gray,
I have no choice.

Does a madman choose his words? They come to him,
the moon’s illuminations, intimations of the wind,
and he must speak.

But listen to me now, and if you hear
the tolling of the judgment bell, and if its tone is clear,
then do not tarry,

but listen, or cut off your ears, for I Am weary.

*

Published by Penny Dreadful, The HyperTexts, the Anthologise Committee and Nonsuch High School for Girls (Surrey, England)

Also published by Michael R. Burch writing as Immanuel A. Michael and Kim Cherub

Keywords/Tags: Listen, heed, prophet, crying, wilderness, voice, prophecy, black, white, gray, moon, wind, speak, speaking, speech, instruction, teaching, warning, omen, illuminations, intimations, ears, hear, judgment, bell, toll, tolling, peal, pealing, tone, I, Am

Note: The poet as a “madman, alone, screaming in the wilderness” is likened to John the Baptist, foretelling a momentous “second coming”: his own, with no other Messiah in sight.
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