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aj Dec 2014
i am in love with the sky and his crown of ichor and heart of plenty.
i am taken by love with the every day shock.
it is to be in love, that you relish in his every heartbeat - many.
i am in that love that makes me perpetually walk.

he slings a spear of singularity,
i am to be noticed.
but he is in the sky of celerity,
and i am grounded.
i take the golden light all at once.
the sun will never set in my soul.

the heavens part and leave an abyss,
the longing for his static lashes makes my sun itch
for his crackling discharge of power. oh how i miss !
the arc and flow of his lightning whip.

i hold my sun to the sky.
its celestial light shall carry me high.
king of killers, teller of lies!
heed the angels' song of wry.
i am the storm, and this time i am also the eye.
writing this was a really pleasing,
outer body experience
axr Oct 2014
I hear thunder
No you don't,
The voices in your head
want some more

You're lying!
I am aware of my blunders.
I can hear thunder!
No,  you can't
you're just deaf
and without a plan

You're just inviting trouble
Everyone is trying to hurt me.
My only defence is the thunder
I hear it. I feel it. Zeus loves me.
Mountains tremble in fear.
He is ready with his bolt.
It's a message
you don't see it
yet
but when thunder shakes the ground
you shall hold your breath.
Talk about Hermes, Apollo
and everyone else.
The thunder shall do us no harm.
Olympus was never safe.
Aphrodite knows how to sell her body
There will be war, my friend.
The titans will rise.
Kronos will escape from Tartarus
and attack in stealth.

You dummkopf,
you have no idea what you have been talking
Don't argue over Father of God's bolt!
God of the skies.
Traveling by air? You might die.
Poseidon can make your way back difficult
This behaviour of yours was very typical.
*You ignore your mind when it plays tricks on you
Oh dear, you really are a fool
I have no idea why I wrote this. Greek mythology obsession perhaps
Dummkopf means stupid head in German.
Luis Mdáhuar Aug 2014
"We can say that we have crossed the threshold of myth only when we notice a sudden consistency between incompatibles"
AB Jul 2014
On this night
The king-god Zeus does battle
With the titans of old.
The sky is livened
By his hurled bolts of lightening.
Their targets simply
Unseen to the mortal eye.

The calm is shattered
By the clash of thunderbolt
On stone and molten rock.
Our protector, he remains.
Though many have forgotten him
To myth, legend, and lore
We have forgotten the safety
That his lightning strikes provide.

On sunny days
Cloudless nights
We are allowed to forget his ways.
But on this night
In these dark and stormy hours,
The true believers remember.
That Zeus has watched over us
For millennia. Battling an unseen
War, waged in the tales of old
But carried out before our eyes.

We must recall that he,
The one King-God, Zeus, has
Watched over us dutifully since time
Before time before memory.
He has kept us safe
From the titans of old.
And the lightening strikes
Remind us of stories untold
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
A bird in an aurulent billed mud-face,Living as a four foot two inch dragon in a San Franciscan cave,
Lifts off from a hot breathed murmur of Gideon.
Even in night the whole grandeur of movement
Soaking in red beeping heart-pangs
Fasten to the thrusts of his arms.
This post of vainglory was the opening of the year.
In July's open pores,
On a spatial plateau of Dodonian oak.
The Penguin
Unveils his weakened voice.
Flattening into a wide arrow
Draped from Carina he
Sails Westward. Barefooted through the Anavros
Molting under deep helplessness and melancholia.
With his inlaid eyes faced askance
The penguin broods
Among the day's songs
Cast into the poetry of the lyre,
Stretched upwards from Paradise Bay to Colchis,
Where his ebony wings
Soak into the palms of Peleus
Suffering only where the arrows have flung.
Downside up, with children in a pocket of blood,
Among supergigantic siren songs and muse poems
Sewing teeth into a spot of Earth
Races towards a column of toppling strakes.
An Interpretation of the Search For the Golden Fleece
KNOWER Apr 2014
Above, beside and way below
Who are we but men to know?
Of three quite strong yet treated wrong
By The Sisters Three, and cruel was their song

The first, the second but not the third,
Mother's love finally bore hard
In solemn jest, she did what need be done
Lest all were lost, leaving her with none

Hædes the first entrée to Khronos
So was the *second of "The In-bred Foes"
Then came Zeus, the third and last
Favoured was he in the days that pass't

Mother Rhea quickly thought out a plan,
She fed a rock to the cruel Titan
In swaddling cloth she wrapped the stone
Then in it went, to Khronos, unknown

Of age came he with rage and wrath
Poor was Khronos, who fell in his path
In awe, he gasped, "How could it be???!"
Then Zeus replied, "Oh yes, 't is me!"

And as per the prophecy, triumphant was he
To then save his brothers and be all he was meant to be
And now we know of Zeus above, Hædes below,
Posseidon with us and together we'll grow
The classic tale of the three, infamous Olympian gods (Zeus, *Posseidon, & Haedes), whose origins hail from ancient Greece, retold as a poem.

I hope you enjoy(ed)!  :)

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