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#heracles
The Gods once sang hymns of Garland twined Dancing nymphs steadily seducing Zeus’s mind They sang about love, passion, and a woman scorned For Hera, wife of Zeus, Hephaestus, his brother warned “Aphrodite may be sweet, ***** and supple But the two of you together will bring only trouble” Brooding Zeus sulked, like the heroes of old Alexander may be great but he will be BOLD Ignoring the warning, to the glade he went Sending a message with Mercury, his love he sent Luna hung low over the trees that night Fireflies flashing accenting the light There she strode, Aphrodite the beautiful Come here to meet Zeus, lord of the thunderbolt “My king, with Mercury your words I read Sweet nothings echo in my heart that bleeds In wanting for you, I bellow the forge of my heart My longing for you had me longing to depart” Zeus rushed to his muse, his body filled with lust Never stopping to consider he was betraying Hera’s trust For the queen had played mighty Zeus, an illusion she wore Aphrodite in image but in Hera her SCORN Together they lay in lust passions raged To feel his love again being all that she craved Her moans turned to laughter, her plot complete The nymphs turned to vines snaring his feet “Hera, my love, do not be angered My feelings for you were never endangered I knew it was you from the very beginning I was just simply curious to see the ending” Hera wasn’t interested in any more of his lies Like Uranus before him she would cut off his pride Never again would he sire another ******* She would remain queen on Olympus from here on after In celebration she cast the ******** down the mountain Into a babbling spring where nymphs danced ’round a fountain When suddenly an infant sprang from holy water deep A boy was born immaculately complete Raised by the dryad’s a man he grew Through labors of love to prove his due Ignorant of the boy, Hera jealously ruled Olympus With Zeus crippled her power now limitless Until a prophecy was issued by Apollo’s oracle “A child born, he who is destined to wear the purple” Worried, Hera sent Mercury down to Gaia’s shores His mission to find the boy before he could wage his war Too late he was, for once, he was too slow The boy (now a man) was already in Olympus with his father in tow “Hera, I’m here to claim my throne, father as my witness From him I was born, a product of your sickness Your husband you tricked, maimed, and usurped That throne is mine and Olympus will never be yours Then he called forth his first thunderbolt Casting Hera into the void and ending her revolt
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Jun 26, 2024
Jun 26, 2024 at 2:17 PM UTC
Olympian Love
The Gods once sang hymns of Garland twined Dancing nymphs steadily seducing Zeus’s mind They sang about love, passion, and a woman scorned For Hera, wife of Zeus, Hephaestus, his brother warned “Aphrodite may be sweet, ***** and supple But the two of you together will bring only trouble” Brooding Zeus sulked, like the heroes of old Alexander may be great but he will be BOLD Ignoring the warning, to the glade he went Sending a message with Mercury, his love he sent Luna hung low over the trees that night Fireflies flashing accenting the light There she strode, Aphrodite the beautiful Come here to meet Zeus, lord of the thunderbolt “My king, with Mercury your words I read Sweet nothings echo in my heart that bleeds In wanting for you, I bellow the forge of my heart My longing for you had me longing to depart” Zeus rushed to his muse, his body filled with lust Never stopping to consider he was betraying Hera’s trust For the queen had played mighty Zeus, an illusion she wore Aphrodite in image but in Hera her SCORN Together they lay in lust passions raged To feel his love again being all that she craved Her moans turned to laughter, her plot complete The nymphs turned to vines snaring his feet “Hera, my love, do not be angered My feelings for you were never endangered I knew it was you from the very beginning I was just simply curious to see the ending” Hera wasn’t interested in any more of his lies Like Uranus before him she would cut off his pride Never again would he sire another ******* She would remain queen on Olympus from here on after In celebration she cast the ******** down the mountain Into a babbling spring where nymphs danced ’round a fountain When suddenly an infant sprang from holy water deep A boy was born immaculately complete Raised by the dryad’s a man he grew Through labors of love to prove his due Ignorant of the boy, Hera jealously ruled Olympus With Zeus crippled her power now limitless Until a prophecy was issued by Apollo’s oracle “A child born, he who is destined to wear the purple” Worried, Hera sent Mercury down to Gaia’s shores His mission to find the boy before he could wage his war Too late he was, for once, he was too slow The boy (now a man) was already in Olympus with his father in tow “Hera, I’m here to claim my throne, father as my witness From him I was born, a product of your sickness Your husband you tricked, maimed, and usurped That throne is mine and Olympus will never be yours Then he called forth his first thunderbolt Casting Hera into the void and ending her revolt
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What have I done... I curse thee, Nessus, for your evil wits! Your wicked whispers deprived me of my Sun His soul departed from the pyre Philoctetes lit And I am the assassin that is to blame I cannot live with this burden of my ****** My body will soon, too, be engulfed by the purifying flame! Thanatos, come, I won't delay our meeting any further
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Jun 5, 2021
Jun 5, 2021 at 6:42 PM UTC
Deianira
Jason, leader of the Argonauts writes in his log, ‘We have come far & yet have only found discarded pieces of her garment floating on the current as if leading us on to her lavender abyss; Asclepius, much like Hart Crane gaily diving off the side of the ship fishes her sandal from the waters; Asclepius sniffing the well worn footwear; his healing eyes ignite, ‘These surely were worn by the Goddess; Her foot-odor is all over them’, the divine doctor says Stroking the abandoned enchanted instep Heracles wonders if this is a sign Or if the doctor simply has a shoe fetish; Tiresias telling the strongman that Every fetish has its purpose & this will reveal the direction her steps have taken & that it was Prometheus himself Who gave sheer lingerie to women To catch the scent & hold men spellbound After some basic Homeric conversational one-upmanship & Socratic back-and-forth, Tiresias succeeds in convincing Heracles of the rightness of drooling Dr. Asclepius’s perverted actions; The Argonauts are destined for success By decree of Zeus, father of the gods;   Calliope, a giant who blows the clouds into shapes & makes the four winds sing like a boy band; can become human size whenever she desires & ****** mortal men w/ her song I would think right there on the temple floor on mats softer than any fur, We are destined to spend 40 nights as captives of her furious wrestling tiger-women whose roar is so loud the sound roils through the vined jungle and across the tops of the darkest trees and every living creature goes into a heat and goes to ground To mate driven lustily insane by the unearthly screams, and just then growls rang out Her blood boiling hot, No one had ever come so near, it was as if a fight to the death was on, but no death seemed clear Of all the heroes on the Argos Only one truly worried; Calliope's own son would have to endure witnessing yet again his mother ****** his shipmates; the muse of epic poetry inspiring love visions in their heads, meaning Orpheus, greatest poet & musician of the ancient world would have to yet again wield the eternally perfectly tuned lyre given him by his muse-mother's master, sun god Apollo for just this cause; Another painful reminder that his mother was a **** who molested him when he was but a singing child; she had taught him the ways of poetry & music but at the price of his sympathy & as if embracing the death of love, it would be Orpheus' task to yet again bewitch his own mother Intrigued, Calliope bursting mortal chains asunder grows into who knows how tall Only to dissolve from sight into a swarm of sea creatures; Calliope, beloved mother of Orpheus casting bones as the ship goes over the edge of the world; As if from two separate points of view the hero embarks on his Quest for the majestic crone, Only to find his ship navigating through Amazon territory (so Freudian, so Jungian) where he searches for the temple of the mythic mystic female; Every legendary goddess has heard of him From still-more ancient legends known only to them; the hero whose name is as yet unknown goes to the prow of his ship, at long last seeing her white mountains & following her thunder By Medusa & Johnny Noir
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Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 5:21 PM UTC
Calliope & Orpheus
Jason, leader of the Argonauts writes in his log, ‘We have come far & yet have only found discarded pieces of her garment floating on the current as if leading us on to her lavender abyss; Asclepius, much like Hart Crane gaily diving off the side of the ship fishes her sandal from the waters; Asclepius sniffing the well worn footwear; his healing eyes ignite, ‘These surely were worn by the Goddess; Her foot-odor is all over them’, the divine doctor says Stroking the abandoned enchanted instep Heracles wonders if this is a sign Or if the doctor simply has a shoe fetish; Tiresias telling the strongman that Every fetish has its purpose & this will reveal the direction her steps have taken & that it was Prometheus himself Who gave sheer lingerie to women To catch the scent & hold men spellbound After some basic Homeric conversational one-upmanship & Socratic back-and-forth, Tiresias succeeds in convincing Heracles of the rightness of drooling Dr. Asclepius’s perverted actions; The Argonauts are destined for success By decree of Zeus, father of the gods;   Calliope, a giant who blows the clouds into shapes & makes the four winds sing like a boy band; can become human size whenever she desires & ****** mortal men w/ her song I would think right there on the temple floor on mats softer than any fur, We are destined to spend 40 nights as captives of her furious wrestling tiger-women whose roar is so loud the sound roils through the vined jungle and across the tops of the darkest trees and every living creature goes into a heat and goes to ground To mate driven lustily insane by the unearthly screams, and just then growls rang out Her blood boiling hot, No one had ever come so near, it was as if a fight to the death was on, but no death seemed clear Of all the heroes on the Argos Only one truly worried; Calliope's own son would have to endure witnessing yet again his mother ****** his shipmates; the muse of epic poetry inspiring love visions in their heads, meaning Orpheus, greatest poet & musician of the ancient world would have to yet again wield the eternally perfectly tuned lyre given him by his muse-mother's master, sun god Apollo for just this cause; Another painful reminder that his mother was a **** who molested him when he was but a singing child; she had taught him the ways of poetry & music but at the price of his sympathy & as if embracing the death of love, it would be Orpheus' task to yet again bewitch his own mother Intrigued, Calliope bursting mortal chains asunder grows into who knows how tall Only to dissolve from sight into a swarm of sea creatures; Calliope, beloved mother of Orpheus casting bones as the ship goes over the edge of the world; As if from two separate points of view the hero embarks on his Quest for the majestic crone, Only to find his ship navigating through Amazon territory (so Freudian, so Jungian) where he searches for the temple of the mythic mystic female; Every legendary goddess has heard of him From still-more ancient legends known only to them; the hero whose name is as yet unknown goes to the prow of his ship, at long last seeing her white mountains & following her thunder By Medusa & Johnny Noir
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