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B Condon Mar 2017
You, clipped little fragments
divided and crumbled
as the asymmetrical pinions
of the Winged Samothrace,
I spoke “****** soft spoken”
unedited, fluid, effortless,
aroused by Fortune
and I was christened
within rapture, your creator’s
“poisoned wounds” and “secret pains”
electrifying my heart and mind
inspiring such a preface
such a volatile violet passion
and I am moved by this color
by this flower
by this name
those fragrances still pouring
centuries after decimated
marble, demolished syllables
slaughtered by gender or genius
status or progression
(Instantaneously after five years of having lessons in the Greek language, English expatriate and poet Renee Vivien began to translate Sappho’s works into Sappho: A New Translation with Greek Text (1903) consecrating the ****** inhabitant back into her original Aeolian name, Psappha.)

“Renee Vivien begins her work with a Preface and a biographical note in which she seeks to introduce two images of Sappho: the Poetess and the ‘lesbian.’ In order to celebrate the first, Renee Vivien masculinizes Sappho with an expression which constructs her as an alter ego of a male poet […] (“The work of the divine Poet makes one think of the Victory of Samothrace, opening to  the infinite her mutilated wings”). The comparison invites the reader to visualize the famous statue of the female Greek god of Victory, an imposing second-century BC Parian marble sculpture generally  regarded as a masterpiece of Hellenistic art […]. The choice of this female statue can be explained by its mutilated wings which can offer a symbolic counterpart to the fragments of (mutilated) Sappho’s work.” (Wyles, Rosie; Edith Hall.  Women Classical Scholars: Unsealing the Fountain from the Renaissance to Jacqueline de Romilly. 2016)

https://bcondonbard.wordpress.com/2017/03/02/preface-to-sappho-1903/
K Balachandran Mar 2017
He dreamt he was Sappho's trusted companion,
To whom she shared her love's poetic lessons.
And then came this moment of revelation;
He longed to be a woman and make love to her.
Things are not as they seem  at the outset,
That part of him madly in love with Sappho"s secrets
Didn't really know is it her body, soul or poetry
That made him go mad with an intoxicating pleasure.

The other part of him in love with himself  more,
Protested"I desire her like a man does a woman"
Love is insane often, it is hidden within the masks worn.
In every passionate love affair, is a river of fire to cross.
Love puts him in a dilemma,without any resolve at sight.
In a life ensconced in fantasy, he is steeped in a  love stupor
If ever he again wakes up, he'll try to make lasting peace,
Slosh in the poetic wine of Sappho and desire her all the more.
requiEM Feb 2017
Sapphic sapphires glisten in the moon
These ladies say that Hades makes them as dry as a sand dune
Maleficent and Cruella mark their spells on their heads
And quietly they tiptoe and sneakily their treads-
Move with a rhythm only grace can create
Enchanting are these women, seeing them is fate
To be an audience member to their auras and their moves
Is an opportunity that is divine, spiritually proved
Indigo in color, L words leave their lips
Straight and curvy bones and fat   vibrate from their hips
They mesmerize, they enchant, they let their inhibitions soar
Until they dance away, unhinged, and you can't see them anymore
Remember this encounter, it is one that will inspire
It will make you feel a type of way, it will ignite a fire
I read the word 'sapphic' and it alone inspired this entire poem
M L Soo Dec 2016
They laughed as
I leaped over holes
looking down,
feeling like I'd
never fall in love.
Then
you fell from the sky
... and I'ad neverbeen-
crushed so sweetly.
Amanda Newby Dec 2016
I am soft-hearted,
And Sapphic.
But she is not a human girl
Anymore.

Every time I lay her to rest,
She rises
Like a phoenix.
Or a zombie.

She is soft-bodied.
Empty-headed.
Empty-hearted.

She is rotten to me.
All memory of her,
Warm woman,
Is gone now.
Her body is a dead thing.
A shell, only good for gutting.

My heart is spilling.

My insides are gooey.
They slip between other girl's hands-
Repulsive.
Hazardous.
A lost cause.

My heart is a terminal case.

Until it's replaced,
I am all robot.

Hard-bodied.
Hard-headed.
Empty-hearted.

Every girl
Who gives me the kiss-of-life
Is cursed.

I search for a shell
To put my dead into.

But she is in cahoots
With the rotted.

All I want
Is a soft-hearted girl
To lay with.

To lay me down
To rest.

To love to death.
M L Soo Oct 2016
You melted
in my hands
and then I
drank you up.
Now you've
turned, to
ice and stone
-and I
can't help
but choke.
K Balachandran Sep 2016
He dreamed he was Sappho's one true friend,
whom she trusted to share her amorous secrets,
And soon this revelation; his point of no return !
He longed to be a woman, to let her make love to him!
Is it her body, soul or poetry,don't ask him
what made him truly crazy,triggering unnamed pleasures
The other part of him, in love with himself, relentlessly protests,
"My desire for her is that of  a man to a woman"

In every passion filled story of love,there is a river of fire
to cross, a challenge to to take up with a 'do or die 'spirit
Love puts one in dilemmas without resolve, and observes,
declares  one as a winner or a failure,  at the long last!

A life steeped in a fantasy, even in sleep,he is entangled
in hopeless love,which makes him a martyr, victim or hero
When he wakes up, he dreams, he'll bring about lasting peace.
By reading Sappho, till the time he decides it's enough!
K Balachandran Mar 2016
To her he was love personified, sweet lover
but if you think there ends his troubles of amour
you need to read this narrative to the end.
He would make her bathe in cranberry juice
and feed her the juiciest of peaches and plums
from morning till night, if strawberries and
luscious mangoes become too much for her.
She made him read poetry aloud till their
hearts break in sweet pain,Sappho's poems made
his eyes moist, but she cries aloud, often inconsolable.

At one point fed up being his lap dog
she attacked him tooth and nail, still her love intact,
showering kisses all over his naked chest down.
He laughed taking credit to be the cause
of her true enlightenment,letting her to be herself.

Night was spreading her venom in their veins
and it started to show it's effects as animal instincts
the tigress in her woke up, stretching to full length,
stared at his flesh, hairy broad chest, athletic legs, and groin
then after the play thoroughly exhausted and drained
she rolled to the other end of the bed, the monster
named angst keeping awake in the darkest corner
taking in all  with fluorescent eyes, sprung up on him
bit, scratched, mauled and wounded, as much as it wanted,
he was dazed, didn't scream, fought bitter tears like always.
I said "Go and be happy
but remember(you know
well) whom you leave shackled by love"
Sappho(Circa 630 BC)
MegAnne McNally Feb 2015
I did not intend this,
A lust for soft hands, lips like rose.
I woke with it already in my veins.
But my love is not my own; they stole my reigns.
After taking what was left of my voice.
It isn't my choice.

Slowly the fear of myself becomes too strong.
Lost in the rhythm of this sapphic song.
I was bred from the blood of a great poetess,
A Greek Goddess who loved both Zeus and Aphrodite ferocious.
Unashamed of the lust in her hips,
Born to a world who saw no difference.

Daughter of Sappho why do you cry?
Please don't lose your life to a lie.
You can do nothing wrong in love,
Pray that Aphrodite is generous from above.
May she show you that true love transcends gender.
Dare Cupid to prove the existence of such splendor.

May the Goddess in your bones,
Find refuge on the beaches of ******,
The people who disagree fear your unknown,
They cannot comprehend the grandiose.
When they demonize you,
Remind them Lucifer was once angel too.

Be too large in love for them,
Do not succumb to their strange,
Better yet prove that you will not be condemned.
Be the catalyst of change.
Being gay around Valentine's day has always been difficult, especially living in an area where homophobes prevail.

— The End —